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... . The walls were yellowed with age, the paint peeling in the corners. A cracked microwave sat on the counter, next to a stack of expired instant noodles.

Sang-hoon sat at a rusted metal table, rubbing his temple like he had the worst headache in the world. A half-empty bottle of water sat beside him, his fingers drumming against it in slow, repetitive taps.

He looked up the second Jin stepped through the door.

"...You're still alive," Sang muttered, leaning back in the ch ...

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