The Distant Whispers
"Thirty-one of Gallows Corner," Kenji said, his voice flat, "is where the old accounts went to die. You think you can buy your way out of this, Murata? The kerosene is gone. The night is long." Taro Murata did not look up from the ledger. He was an undertaker’s apprentice, a job that paid in silence and cold hands, but here, in the shadow of the Kurogane citadel, it was the only work that kept...
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