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Chapter 238: The Antennas of Genius
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... to the morning’s chaos.
At this hour, most students were either studying, sleeping, or finding creative ways to break curfew. The overhead lights cast harsh shadows across the training mats and equipment. Gave the space a stark, dramatic quality.
A lone punching bag swayed slightly in some unfelt breeze. Probably the ghost of some poor student who’d died during one of Braxton’s training sessions. The smell of sweat and disinfectant hung in the air. Mingled with the faint metalli ...
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