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... red at the kids gathered in front of me without blinking. I'd gotten too close. If these kids suddenly pulled out syringes or water guns to attack me, it would be dangerous.

"..."

"..."

The children remained still as statues. They didn't cry or try to run. They only performed with their eyes. Trembling pupils, gazes designed to evoke sympathy.

A psychological attack aimed not just at me but at all the mercenaries. Their acting was excellent.

I trudged arou ...

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