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... you still want to pay the tax or not? I don’t have all day to waste here!"

Alexei frowned.

From the moment he stepped through the door, he had smelled a strong scent of alcohol.

Expressionless, he looked around the room.

The empty space was devoid of unnecessary decorations.

A heavy long table was placed in the center, neatly arranged with papyrus and ink bottles.

A pair of dirty deerskin boots were propped up on the table, impatiently shaking.

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