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... g tiredly at the man in front of him.
The stranger was odd not just because of his eyes, but because of the ridiculous, oversized W-shaped moustache drooping from his face like some cursed calligraphy. And right now, the guy was aiming a small stick maybe a twig pr somey right at Max's face, like he meant business.
Max's shoulders slumped with tired amusement. "This is exactly why I live in the jungle," he muttered under his breath, chuckling bitterly. "No people. No moustaches. ...
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