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... Kafka sat on the railing, overlooking the bustling city below.
A gentle breeze stirred her coat and hair, giving her a lazy, carefree aura.
If only she had a glass of wine in hand, the scene would be perfect.
Kafka thought to herself.
Meanwhile, Silver Wolf's situation was completely different.
She was furiously tapping away at the screen in front of her.
Her eyes hadn't blinked for a long time.
Finally.
Silver Wolf's lips curled i ...
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