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... ere? And what’s with that absurd golden carriage?”
The elderly knight Balzac, whose white beard now extended to his collarbones, looked at me with a trembling voice.
His eyes shook even more violently than his voice, filled with a desperate hope that this wasn’t a dream, illusion, or hallucination.
“I was adrift while working on a new business in the Demonic Realm.”
“A new business…?”
“Yes, selling food in the Demonic Realm.”
“Is… is that even poss ...
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