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In the predawn hours, under a sky where the moon shone and stars were sparse.
Asano Kamisaku was completely unaware of the impending crisis; at this moment, he was drinking heavily in a private room of an izakaya with his driver and a middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man appeared to be in his fifties, with salt-and-pepper stubble and hair, wearing a slightly old-fashioned black cotton jacket. He had a simple, honest face, but his small, slightly squinted eye ...
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