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... ale, which was the kind of quiet, peaceful place Greg had always wanted to live in while he was making weapons for forty years. There were rolling hills as far as the eye could see, with small farms and animals grazing on them.
"Ferndale, huh... what a nice name for a village. Perfect to enjoy my peaceful life!"
Greg went outside, still getting used to his new body. He looked about twenty-five now, with the same scarred hands but a lot more energy than he remembered having in yea ...
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