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“I bet I could pick off the Gatling servants from up here,” Felicia whispered from the side. The two of us had taken the balcony directly facing the horde as the defenders’ best marksmen. I considered her offer but declined quickly.

“We want them to commit first. This gun is powerful, but it will not pierce half a meter of sandbag.”

“What’s a meter?”

“A slightly larger yard.”

“You Europeans have the weirdest quirks.”

I refrained from defending myself before thi ...

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