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...
Fujimoto Tōma studied the man standing across from him, surprise flickering through his usually steady gaze.
No mask.
The figure looked nothing like the Hollows Tōma had been cutting down for days. Short, dark-brown hair with a slight curl, gray-blue eyes, and a neatly kept stubble along the jaw. He looked less like a monster and more like a rugged middle-aged man who’d wandered out of a battlefield by mistake.
And yet the pressure rolling off him was unmistakable. ...
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