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My Femboy System - Chapter 118: Frantic Thoughts
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Chapter 117: Conducting the Search
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Chapter 119: Days on Edge
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... the illusion my mind had conjured, because no reasonable person ever expects an inanimate object to hold the kind of silent menace usually reserved for knife-wielding maniacs in alleyways.
Yet there it sat, perched on the rough wooden table of the library’s makeshift room, black as the midnight of my worst regrets, gleaming faintly as if mocking me with its smug sheen. If feathers could smirk, this one was practically reciting poetry about my inadequacy.
I had tried, saints know ...
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