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... t soaked into the forest floor quickly—too quickly, as if the earth of Gaeth-9 was thirsty for it. The moss hissed softly beneath the hunter's corpse, swallowing the red like water in a desert. The wind shifted. It no longer carried the scent of prey. It carried him.
Kiro Varn.
No longer just a slave. No longer just a man.
He felt it humming in his chest, in his limbs, in the marrow of his bones—the System. Alive, pulsing with quiet hunger. Not like a parasite. More like ...
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