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... om seemed to move as he walked in.
Dax, who was tall and lean, walked in with a confidence that couldn't be faked, it was earned.
Even though he had been in fights for years, he had a calm, almost relaxed look on his face.
His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and he wore a loose-fitting black hoodie, sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos that decorated his arms like badges of honor.
He moved with a casual swagger, the kind of walk that said he had nothing to prove, eve ...
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