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Chapter 296 - 36: Three Heights
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... te River. By December, the weather had become cold, and the city, enshrouded in thin veils, quietly awaited the rise of the morning sun.
On the bridge over the Willamette River, before dawn arrived, the shapes of a tall and a shorter figure were already running through the hazy fog. Although the mist was not great for the respiratory system, it was certainly better than anesthetics and painkillers.
"Good morning, Gan, out for a run so early again!" a postal worker delivering pape ...
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