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Angličtina
55 b
30 dní na vrácení zboží
Yojan Priest stood with his back against the wall, jersey half untucked, towel draped over his shoulders like something he didn't deserve anymore. This was it. No more games. No more Tiger blue. No more chances to rewrite the ending.
Nearby, Malcolm Scott watched the crowd with the stillness of a man who had already learned how to disappear when necessary. He wasn't angry. He wasn't sad. He was calculating, even then-counting exits, reading faces, noticing who lingered when they should have left.
Sabrina stood between them, arms crossed tight, eyes scanning the corridor like she sensed something coming before it arrived.
Then the bag appeared.
No fanfare. No announcement.
Just a black duffel, heavy enough to sag unnaturally, sitting against the wall where it hadn't been seconds earlier.
It wasn't marked. It didn't need to be.
Everyone who saw it knew what it was.
Money always announces itself to people who grew up without it.
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