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... struments enveloped the dimly lit space with a hint of melancholy.

It was late at night, the town was asleep, and the tavern stood empty except for Raymond, who poured glass after glass of clear liquor for himself.

“Damn it. Damn it all.”

With each glass, Raymond muttered curses under his breath. It was unclear whom he was cursing—perhaps he was simply trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol.

“It seems you’re quite troubled,” remarked the tavern owner, serving Raym ...

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