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... n dropping on the metal roof, making noise quietly in the deserted platforms.

Strange.

Étienne Moreau stepped down from the carriage, feeling the chill seep through his coat as his boots hit the wet pavement.

Behind him, Renaud stretched, yawning widely.

His uniform collar was damp from the journey, and he adjusted his cap, scanning the station lazily.

But if looked deeper one could see a sharp look disguised in that lazy body language.

Two black C ...

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