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... spectator who was dressed completely differently, looking smug, and asked, “What’s going on?”
“Who are…? Stop dragging me around; my Silk Robe, immune to fire, it’s very expensive…” The reluctant spectator they had pulled over grumbled, but as he turned his head and saw Ange’s pass, he straightened up in fear, “I’m sorry, Director, I didn’t say anything.”
On Ange’s pass, a black star was slowly pulsating. That was the mark of the Death Star; director Auburnli’s title wasn’t somet ...
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