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... e floor in the corner of a dimly lit room, half-buried under a pile of clothes. The room was a chaotic mess,a graveyard of discarded fast-food wrappers, unwashed plates, and scattered garments. Every corner screamed neglect, an unmistakable sign of an otaku's lair.
With a groggy grunt, the man stirred, pushing aside the heap of clothes that had engulfed him. He staggered to his feet, rubbing his face with a hand as if trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.
His disheveled hair ...
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