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... inja’..." Nara Kazuki squinted at the man blocking the caravan’s path. His clothes were tattered, skin splotched and darkened, and he reeked of filth and rot.
He looked every bit the vagrant.
The man stood right in their way, holding what looked like a bowl—but was just a lump of dried mud.
Kazuki noticed how the nearby townspeople parted quietly when the vagrant approached. None stood near. Their eyes were alert, wary.
"Crazy old bastard, move along. Watch what y ...
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