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... men and women. Tedious, it might’ve sounded, but it was relatively easy with the golden badge — or license — hanging on the chest area of Maxwell’s shirt. The moment they saw the glistening license, the mercenaries that stood in their way shifted, giving way to the duo. Or trio, if Frilo was counted. And like that, they made their way to the front and got a closer look at the taskboard.

Vin exhaled, shoulders slumping. And Frilo, on Vin’s head, had the same relieved expression. Almost l ...

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