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PREVIEW
... ill started in the afternoon—special sessions mixed with students who had morning commitments.
But just before reaching the school gate, a group of teenage thugs blocked his path. One had fake blond hair, ripped jeans, and hair oil whose stench rivaled diesel fuel.
"Heh, you’re the kid who messed with Young Master Rudi yesterday, right?"
Al paused.
"Which Young Master?"
"Playing dumb now?" the blond thug spat. "A poor street kid like you has the nerve to m ...
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