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... mple: money.

No matter how beautiful the skyline of Aurelion looked outside his hospital window, no matter how gilded his surname sounded, without money in his account, none of it mattered.

Prestige couldn’t pay for food, carriages, or, more importantly, the upcoming Awakening Tes — an event that decided the course of every eighteen-year-old’s future.

Including his humble self.

He ran a hand through his long black hair and sighed.

’Steven could ramble all ...

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