The Neon Throne
The rain in Los Angeles didn't wash anything away; it only smeared the neon lights into oily puddles on the asphalt. Max sat in the back of a black sedan, watching the city blur past. He remembered the days when he lived in a room the size of a closet, eating cold beans and dreaming of a way out. He had been a private eye with a shred of integrity and a penchant for losing fights. Now, he owned...
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