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... e were some things he had long forgotten, or rather, he had tried hard to make himself forget certain things, and he believed he had succeeded.
In those blurry memories, he was still a child.
Back then, it was winter, and the heavy snow covered everything in the town—houses, ground, and the people who starved to death.
He hobbled out of the church, his ripped trousers stained with blood, leaving a smear of red on the snow with every step. But he didn't feel the pain becau ...
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