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... at a cozy little café. The occasion? A celebration in my honor.

But truth be told, most of them just came to drink.

There were six hunters besides me — the last of us still alive after Death Icon’s bloody onslaught.

As I arrived at the café, Minho greeted me warmly at the entrance.

"Finally, you’re here. Come on, the others have been waiting."

A cigarette dangled between his fingers. As we stepped inside, he stubbed it out and tossed it into the trash.

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