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... gate falling.

"Cough, cough, cough—" Viscount Darcy put down his cup and wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin still around his neck.

"So soon? Didn't the city police conscript roughly eight thousand militia? It shouldn't have ended this early even if it were just eight thousand chickens that were released!" he exclaimed in astonishment.

Steward Ford awkwardly explained, "Well… the entire area around the west gate is swarming with the undead, and none of those who w ...

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