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... His body was so round that he waddled with each step and gasped after a few metres. Leonhardt frowned at the man's gaudy clothes. He wore too much gold thread and used precious silk from the southern desert.

"Vasha, you look as beautiful as the Cariban Desert." His horrible voice was enough to make Leonhardt's ears bleed.

Hard to describe, like a male cat's mating call mixed with a pig's snort.

It might be half charming if Leonhardt didn't hear the aide beside him whisper ...

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