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... Time lay on the bed, put on his helmet, and returned to the game. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at the gray cement ceiling.
Beneath him was a worn-out single bed.
As he moved his heavy head, a faint fragrance wafted from the compressed pillow into his nose. The only downside was the scent of motor oil mixed in.
Turning his head, he saw a girl sitting on the edge of the bed.
In her hand, she held a screwdriver, tinkering with the componen ...
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