The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-26 04:19:34 -

The banquet hall smelled of burnt sugar and wet wool, a thick, cloying odor that settled in the throat and refused to leave, masking the sharper, metallic tang of the Echoing Ink that was already beginning to seep from the pores of my wrists. I sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, my hands folded tightly over the ledger, watching Chief Trần’s lips move as he spoke to the assembled...

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