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I knew what failing to complete a mission meant for an agent. I hadn't killed my target, and now my life was hanging by a thread.
"Why? Why did this happen...?" All of this, every single thing, was... "Come on, stop crying already."
...the fault of my target, the white-haired girl next to me, who was casually holding out a handkerchief.
"If it wasn't for you—!"
Yeah—she was the target I was supposed to kill. Code name: Siesta.
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