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... he underbelly of the city, the place smelled like damp stone, burnt wood, and old books—a combination that might’ve been nostalgic if it weren’t for the constant feeling that I was going to get my ass kicked with another one of his ridiculous lessons. I couldn’t help but wonder why someone of such skill would tuck himself away in the slums, but I paid him to not ask questions and it would be hypocritical of me to ask questions of him.

Ronan and I stepped into the dimly lit chamber, the f ...

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