PREVIEW

... nt)

The bar lights cast a dim glow over the polished counter as Henry and I leaned back in our seats, whiskey glasses in hand.

The drinks were good—smooth, aged, expensive.

But they weren't Murim drinks.

I swirled the whiskey in my glass, letting out a slow exhale. "You know... for all the wealth and luxury in this world, they still can't make a drink like the ones we had in Murim."

Henry chuckled, taking a sip. "You're telling me. Nothing beats t ...

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