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... from the bar area. Around them, conversations died mid-sentence, replaced by urgent whispers that rippled through the crowd like a digital virus.

He caught fragments of conversations – his name, his reputation, theories about why someone of his caliber would grace this particular corner of hell.

Viper felt a surge of satisfaction as he noticed the fearful glances cast their way. In Area 52's hierarchy of predators, standing beside the Phantom of Drakoria elevated his own status ...

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