PREVIEW
... es stood stiffly like the legs of a centipede’s corpse, pointing straight up to the night sky, while sparse streetlights could only illuminate the brownish-yellow dirt, the air permeated with a sweet and fishy scent mixed with the smell of earth.
"Where is this place?"
Igula glanced at his boots, now covered with marks from the ravages of the mud; the soles of the boots, on their first day of use, were already sentenced to death.
Not just the Swindler, now everyone had ch ...
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