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... y, Harold Nibelheim was on the second floor of the said theater.
The VIP seat was a private room where five or six people could sit comfortably, and Harold was sitting on the armrest of a leather-covered couch, looking over the stage under his eyes through the opera glasses.
Opening the deep red curtain that divides the room, a student in a grey robe appeared.
“Calling me to a place like this, what are you up to, Nibelheim-kun.”
Harold beckoned the ...
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