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... f the pyramid are like gods, looking down at the pitiful ordinary folks who have to struggle to make their own fortunes.
With a cigar clasped between two fingers, Ivanov took a deep inhale before he blew out a mouthful of smoke steadily. The translucent smoke broke apart and dissipated quickly against the window pane of the hotel.
A single hand in his pant pocket, this man with the distinctive looks of an Eastern European stood at the topmost floor of a hotel in The Bund*, Sh ...
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