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"Hello, Miss Maisel." Ringo walked to the table and greeted him politely.

The woman on the table raised her head, her blue pupils were full of drunkenness, and her speech was somewhat incoherent.

"Did you come to strike up a conversation with me? Hey, you look good. I don't hate you, but I don't know what you are capable of."

The woman's gaze suddenly became obscene, scanning Ringer's crotch.

No wonder there is a saying called drunkenness. Ringer used to think tha ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

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