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... en table at its center, surrounded by three chairs. Two were plain, but the third, carved with intricate designs and fitted with a cushion, was clearly meant for the man in charge.

"Leon... Take a seat, son." The chief gestured with a practiced smile as he settled into his throne-like chair.

"I'm good." Leon's voice was flat, his stance firm. He wasn't here to play nice.

"Well then... how much do you want? Thirty coppers? Forty?" The chief's tone was smooth, calculated. < ...

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