The Gambler's Paradox
The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it just turned the city's filth into a shimmering, neon-lit glaze. Leo Vance sat in his office, a room that smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap bourbon, watching the ceiling fan rotate with a hypnotic, sluggish rhythm. Ten years ago, Leo had been the golden boy of theoretical physics. Now, he was a private investigator who specialized in...
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