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... el stared into the darkness, those tales surfacing in her heart, fleeting past like bubbly phantoms.
Her consciousness dulled within the illusion, as if dreaming, unable to precisely control her own thoughts.
“…Is there really a correct answer to this question?”
This doubt emerged in her heart.
But evidently, that wasn’t the answer.
Hence, after much hesitation, Isabel still cautiously spoke up, “Puppet-Face…
who is it?”
“Heh.”
That ...
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