The Vanguard of Ruin
The cobblestones of 19th-century Paris were slick with rain and the blood of the disenfranchised. Marcus had spent twenty years in the gutters, a man whose only inheritance was a name that meant nothing and a hunger that never ended. Marcus was not a man of books or philosophy; he was a man of people. He had a terrifying ability to read a crowd, to find the exact point of tension in a group of...
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