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Chapter 34: Vanishing Act
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... ide. From the inside—when you’re bruised, bloody, and bent over sucking air like a fish dragged onto the dock—it feels a lot less like triumph and more like indigestion mixed with survival guilt.
I stood over Malrick’s limp body, sweat dripping down my nose, stomach still aching from where his fist had tried to turn my innards into a new rug, and I had this sudden thought: gods above, if this is what winning feels like, losing must be absolute hell.
The bastard was out cold, bloo ...
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