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... abandoned factory.
A man in his thirties, handsome, dressed in a pitch-black evening suit as if he were going to a banquet, adjusted his glasses and looked at the pure white sun in the sky.
"Has it already started? Richardson, Charles...you want to lure me away and occupy the Holy Grail by yourselves? Impossible..."
"The ritual still needs time to brew, and that’s why I am playing this game with you...hehe, you’ve found me an opponent, but am I not one too? How could some ...
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