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... A month later.
In his residence, Luo Yan was burying his head in his desk, writing feverishly.
By his side, half of the room was piled with test data from that period, along with more possible guesses and verification plans.
The more he wrote, the more pained his expression became, until his eyes were red with urgency, like a contractor who’d revised their plan hundreds of times without approval, almost wishing to flip the entire table over in frustration.
Why wer ...
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