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... his clothes from the metal rack beside him. Glancing at the plethora of exhausted muscular men, he immediately stepped out of the gym filled with the sour smell of sweat.
A dozen or so days later, he was back at the Iron Fist Gym.
Casio and another slightly shorter figure stood in the middle of the rectangular field, divided into large grids by light yellow floor tiles.
"I appreciate the help." Casio greeted his opponent with a fist salute, as always.
The man acr ...
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