The Golden Ritual
Haruto Ogawa stood in the doorway of the ancestral estate, the smell of damp stone and old varnish hitting him before the sight of the hall did, and he knew with a cold, mechanical certainty that the debt was not just a number but a physical weight pressing against his sternum. He was a desalination technician by trade, a man who spent his days monitoring pressure valves in the dome city, but...
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