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... Captain Tom... Ground control calling Captain Tom..."
In the darkness, two figures slowly moved forward.
One of them tiredly carried an excessively long iron whip. His head hung low, sweat dripped onto his stained black shirt, and he looked utterly wretched. The other person, however, seemed to be on a spring outing. He walked with a carefree swagger, bobbing his head, and even had earphones in, happily singing along to his own BGM:
"You’re doing fine, now the media wants ...
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