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Chapter 445: Done, Not Dusted
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Chapter 447: Somber Mood.
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... Fluorescent lights washed over the group of Spanish internationals clustered near the gate.
They were dressed down now—hoodies, caps, backpacks slung low.
The red kits were folded away, the rain-washed drama of the night a couple of days ago, already fading behind them like vapor trails.
Izan leaned against a column, hands tucked in his jacket pockets, a duffel bag at his feet.
Pedri wandered over first, a protein bar in one hand and a boarding pass in the other. ...
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