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... ough the narrow corridor of the compound’s inner courtyard.

One of the guards, scar-faced, a stitched gash down his jaw—snapped his head up.

He heard something.

A soft step.

Not rushed.

Just... deliberate.

A shadow approached from the far corridor that led in from the front. Calm. Unbothered. A man.

No—too young to be called a man in their world. Probably in his early twenties. A black scarf covered the lower half of his face, and a black c ...

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