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... aking against roots and damp soil. The traffickers, once relaxed, had turned silent—each man gripping his weapon, nerves pulled taut like bowstrings.
The wagon jolted to a stop.
Then it came.
A thunderous roar.
It echoed through the forest, shaking leaves loose from the trees and sending distant birds scattering into the sky.
The burly man stiffened. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stepped down, eyes narrowed toward the treeline.
"That... wasn’t ...
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