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... ile his dark-brown eyes zeroed in on their target. In front of him, the trembling figure of a short young man could be seen. The boy shifted in place, sweating and donning an expression of discomfort. He stuttered as he spoke.
“I-I’m here for ‘Dust.’”
Evenon’s smile got wider. It wasn’t because of the boy’s words; it was because he recognized the boy’s clothes.
“How much, dear customer?”
“T-Thirty grams.”
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