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... ria was filled with noise.

Sungjun stood in line with his tray with his eyes forward, calm as a man waiting for a bus he takes every day for work. Behind him, Steve towered like a quiet shadow but remained humble.

At one of the tables, a group of inmates sat watching. One of them, a broad-shouldered, with a mohawk and a tattoo crawling up his neck, leaned forward, a grin twisting on his face.

"Well, look at that," one said, nudging his buddy. "Mr. Incredible is out of his ...

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