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... imply a product of his own imagination. His stomach felt sticky from something. He checked to find it wet with blood.

(Can you tell? It’s me. Roland.)

Hikaru heard a voice come from within him and he nodded. Feeling his clothes, he knew they were what Roland wore earlier. The room was dark, though he could tell it was properly furnished. Its interior design was just like the European high class hotel rooms he saw on television.

(With your soul transferred into my body, an ...

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