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Chapter 67: NO!
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Chapter 69: Hollow Syndrome
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... infirmary became my world, waking to pale morning light filtering through high windows, choking down bland porridge that tasted like paste, enduring checkups from healers who prodded my arm with cold fingers and muttered about "remarkable recovery" while I sat there wishing they’d just let me leave already.
My left arm still ached when I moved it too much, the muscles weak and uncooperative, like they’d forgotten how to work together.
But it worked. The fingers bent. The grip he ...
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