The Company's Ghost

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2026-05-27 11:01:13 -

The humidity of Calcutta felt like a wet blanket, heavy with the scent of spices, sewage, and the invisible ink of ledgers. Alistair sat in his mahogany office, the ceiling fan churning the stagnant air into a rhythmic, hypnotic thrum. On his desk lay a map of the subcontinent, crisscrossed with red lines that looked like veins of a dying beast. "The tea yields in Assam are down by four...

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