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... tering and casually asked the cashier.
The nightmare had begun again.
This wasn’t some infinite regression plotline—what the hell was this?
With a grimace, Heemin hurriedly grabbed his sleeve and tried to stop him.
“A-Ah, forget it! Let’s just go eat our pastries!”
He needed compensation for his hard labor.
And that compensation was a cream puff—one stuffed to the brim with soft, sweet custard.
They arranged for the clothing purchases to be ...
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