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... on.
p.m.
Fang Changping lay on the bed, put on his helmet, and re-entered the game. When he opened his eyes again, he was met with a concrete gray ceiling.
Below him was a worn single bed.
He shifted his heavy head and a faint scent wafted from the squished pillow into his nose. The only drawback was the mix of machine oil in it.
He turned his face and saw the girl sitting beside the bed.
She was holding a screwdriver, tinkering ...
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