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... hem.

One was tall and wiry, his knuckles bruised and calloused — a fighter from what she could see.

The second was a bit older, broad-shouldered, a faded construction vest still hanging on him.

The third had quick, darting eyes and a tight grip on the metal rod he carried — alert, but maybe a little too nervous.

She stopped in front of them. "Names."

They answered quickly, voices rough from thirst and tension. "Luo Feng." "Chen Shi." "Yu Song."

"Go ...

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