Hyena Werks, A proud Orario Company.
DanmachiXDnD Nonhuman semi SI
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Chapter Four:
A Dinner Date with a Nice Girl (and Seven of Her Closest Friends)
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The sun was just setting when we left the guard house they were keeping me in. A solid stream of people still walked the streets despite the late hour, rushing to finish their tasks before nightfall.
Though all of that came to a screeching halt as we passed.
It’s probably a good thing that these people haven’t invented cars yet, because there would have definitely been wrecks as people stopped dead to gawk at us.
Or more specifically, at me.
Loki, her crew, and I were making our way towards ‘the best bar in Orario’, or so she says. My money is on some hole in the ground.
Orario itself was shockingly clean and organized. I don’t know why I was half expecting this place to look like King’s Landing or something. But I was pleasantly surprised to find that not to be the case.
Well paved cobblestone streets lined with beautifully made half-timbered homes and stores. The whole place reminded me of some cheery, small European town more than anything else.
With the crowd scrambling to get out of our way, we made good time. And soon arrived at, in spite of my expectations, a cozy-looking pub with white plaster walls and intricately carved wooden furnishings. The cheerful murmur and delightful smells of a busy restaurant drifted out its open door.
A sign, written with some of the worst handwriting I have ever seen, declared this bar to be named… “‘The Hostess of Fertility?’ Just what kind of establishment are you taking me to, Loki?”
The Goddess in question just gave me a side eye and a grin. “Be careful with that kinda’ talk, Maedmux, or else Mama Mia might decide she’s serving hyena stew tonight. Mia named it in honor of Demeter, in thanks for her help in getting them started.”
I hid a flinch at being called that stupid name, and simply made an understanding hum as we stepped through the door, her familia hot on our heels. The room, predictably, went quiet when Loki and her posse entered, and then went wide-eyed when they saw me duck through the door to follow her in.
One of the few people who didn’t look all too shocked was the woman standing behind the bar. Roughly six feet of bulging muscles and thick calluses, she hadn’t even opened her mouth and I could tell she was the epitome of an old battle axe.
All she did was raise a brow as she looked me up and down, before crossing her arms and snorting with a good-natured smirk. “You house trained, Fido?”
My indignant “Hey!” went ignored as Loki laughed and answered for me. “He’s with me, Mama Mia. Ganesha’s already given Max here the A-OK, so he’ll be staying with my familia for a bit.”
Loki said the last part a little louder than strictly necessary, directing her voice towards the room. Is that your game, Loki? Showing me off to the city, staking your claim?
Some form of communication passed between the Goddess and proprietress as, after a moment, she only grunted before nodding towards an empty table. “Fine, he can stay, but if he bites anyone, I’m blaming you.”
The Goddess of Mischief simply waved her off as she and her familia started towards the table, I puffed a disgruntled snort at the now named Mama Mia before joining them.
The wooden stool groaned worryingly under my weight, but it held. Across from me, Loki glanced at my seat and gave me a knowing grin.
Before the Goddess’s colorful collection of misfits could even finish seating themselves, a raven-haired cat-shifter wearing a green smock and a brittle smile came around with a tray of drinks. With supernatural grace and speed that only a ‘high level’ anime character could possess, she set the table, making sure to put specific drinks in front of Loki’s familia.
The bar itself was still unnervingly silent, the other patrons still just staring at us with… Varied expressions. Every squeak and scuff of the cat girl's shoes thundered out like gunshots in the tense atmosphere.
It wasn’t until she served everyone else did she waver. Her already strained grin faltered as she stood before me, empty tray in hand. While not entirely hostile, there was certainly no warmth in her eyes. Turning to Loki, she asked. “And him? What will he have?”
“He!” I interjected, before the Goddess could speak for me. “Can speak for himself. And I would like-” Wait, shit. What did people even drink back in Ye’ Olden Tymes? Ale? I don’t even know what ale is! I doubt this place has anything on draft, and they’ll probably think I’m speaking in tongues if I ask for an IPA…
Oh! I know! “-A mug of Mead, please.” Thanks, Skyrim!
The cat girl just raised a single, well-manicured eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge my long ass pause. She simply gave a small curtsy and stalked off behind the bar.
Loki, on the other hand, held no conniptions to pointing out my hesitation.
“What's the matter, Max? Do ya’ not have ah’ favorite poison?” She asked with a chortle as the waitress came back with my drink in a glass mug, which impressed me. I figured glass would be worth a fortune here.
I waited until the girl had finished setting down my drink before answering with a faux haughty sniff. “It’s not that, I’m merely a refined gnoll with refined tastes. I drink the best, and only the best. But ordering a bottle of the finest brandy on someone else's dole is usually frowned upon in polite company.”
Loki’s grin grew wide as I spoke, and through a laugh she asked. “Yet here you are, Mister Moneybags, slumming it with us plebeians. What, you didn’t care enough about the high life if you had to go with Freya to live it?”
My only answer was a sharp grin and a wink as I lifted up my drink for a sip, which nearly instantly became a full gulp because- holy shit, was it good. I think I just found my new favorite booze.
As I physically held myself back from lapping up the liquid ambrosia in my paws like a dog, someone spoke up.
“You really aren’t a monster, are you?”
Looking back up from my cup of sweet honeyed nectar and at Loki’s familia, my eyes were drawn to the speaker. The shortest of the lot, he was blonde haired and blue eyed, with a childlike appearance. But something about his eyes, or maybe it was just the way he held himself, told me he was far older than he appeared.
A halfling then.
“How about-” I said, while carefully setting down my already dangerously empty mug while licking my chops to get every last drop. “-You tell me exactly what one of these ‘monsters’ of yours are, and I will be able to tell you if I match their description in any way.”
He stared into his drink with a stoney expression for a moment before looking up at me. It wasn’t until his navy-blue eyes met my own from over the rim of his own mug did he acquiesce. “Monsters are creatures made of pure, unadulterated malice. Birthed from the walls of The Dungeon, they seek nothing but the complete, and total eradication of all sapient life.”
He swirled his drink and took a sip before continuing. “While they come in thousands of different forms, all of them are naught but thoughtless, crazed beasts- no, less than beasts; Beasts at least have some form of sentience to them. They, however, are nothing but a scourge upon the world and all her people. For as long as our history can remember, we have been at war with The Dungeon and its creatures without end. Thankfully, with the help of our patron Gods and Goddesses, Adventurers like myself- and those you see in this room, have risen up to defend Gekai by fighting the monsters in their very home.”
It was only after a pregnant pause did he add. “We hold the line, at any cost, to prevent monsters from escaping and spreading destruction and misery. As they did before…”
The whole bar, including myself, hung onto his every last word, and the grim picture they painted.
What the hell!? I thought this was just some trashy harem story? So why does it sound like this dude’s describing the lore of some knock-off Dark Souls?!
The next to speak was an almost painfully stereotypical elf. With grass-green hair, aristocratic cheekbones, and a chin sharp enough to cut diamonds. Not to mention the knife-ears sticking half-a-foot from the side of her head.
With the cadence and prose of an Ivy-League professor giving a lecture, she followed where her comrade left off. “Biologically speaking, monsters are automata made of pure magic. They aren’t exactly birthed by The Dungeon as they are manufactured; Created for the singular task of killing everything they can reach.”
With a breath, she continued. “As beings of magic, they do not actually need, and some do not even have, functional organs. Any body parts a monster has, that is traditionally used to maintain the life and function of a natural born being, are simply vestigial features. Left over from when The Dungeon copied some other, actual living creature for its fell creations. Instead, they are powered by condensed magic in the form of a crystal deep in a monster's body. Which provides just enough energy to complete its task of murdering anything in sight. If the power source is removed, the body falls apart as the magical bonds holding it together fail.”
And with a tiny smirk she added “Those crystals, along with various other parts of monsters, are coincidentally quite valuable for multiple different applications.”
I nervously finished the rest of my drink, because holy fuck did this sound way worse than I thought this setting was about, before speaking. “Well… I can tell you right now, under no uncertain terms, that gnolls match none of the characteristics you just described. We come into the world the usual way, ya’ know? When a mommy gnoll and a daddy gnoll love each other very much-”
I ignored Loki’s, and a few other people’s snorts, as I continued. “-And I certainly don’t have any magic crystals in my chest. If you cut me open all you’d get would be a lot of blood and about three-hundred pounds of dead gnoll.”
Loki’s familia, as well as pretty much everyone else in the bar, turned to look at the Goddesses in question. And at her nod, collectively let out a sigh that was equal parts relief, and a muted disbelief.
“So, you’re just some funny lookin’ mortal?” The one who spoke this time was your quintessential dwarf. Short, muscular, wearing plate armor, and sporting a magnificent beard.
I huffed a laugh as I held up my empty mug to the waitress, wordlessly asking for a refill. “I don’t know about the ‘funny’ part, but last time I checked? Yes, I’m as flesh and blood as anyone else.”
I could almost physically feel the atmosphere warming as I spoke and as the people took the Goddess’s approval at face value. The firm frowns and scowls of the crowds were slowly easing into neutrality, or even slight optimism.
It was then it struck me that Loki was absolutely doing this on purpose. Giving me a chance to introduce and explain myself to a small portion of the public in a safe manner. Allowing me to get my metaphorical foot in the door of public acceptance.
It also meant that I owed her.
I owed a God a favor.
Ignorant of my inner turmoil and disgust, Loki’s familia took the chance to introduce themselves.
The halfling, or Pallum, as he called himself, Finn Deimne. Level six and Loki’s top dog.
The Elf, Riviera Ljos Alf, the second in command and also level six.
Gareth Landrock, which was an absolutely amazing name for a Dwarf, and the third in command. Again a level six.
And then there was the ‘Executives’ which I understood to be basically officers who all had achieved level five.
Ais Wallenstein, a normal human; Tione and Tiona Hiryute (There is not a chance in hell that I remember which one is which), the Amazoness (They said it like it was a separate species, but they just looked and smelled like darker-skinned humans to me) sisters; and finally Bete Loga, the white-haired wolf-shifter (he introduced him as a ‘werewolf’ but when I asked if he wanted a cure for his lycanthropy, they all looked at me like I was the insane one).
It was around this time that the waitress came back with not only my drink, but a whole heaping tray laden down with food. I had to physically push my lips together to avoid drooling all over myself.
I was not successful.
When she finished setting out a feast fit for a king, a plate stacked high with glazed ribs ended up placed just in reach. As everyone else dug in, I wiped away a long string of drool and grabbed an entire rack in my paws and dug in.
It was absolutely delicious. With a fruity, honey glaze- it was just the right blend of tender and crunchy. The meat quite literally fell apart in my mouth, it was so good…
Wait, crunchy?
I opened my eyes and saw that I had just bit into the fuckin’ side of it like it was a burger. And was eating it, bones and all, without any issues whatsoever.
I looked up to see my dinner mates looking at me with varying levels of disgust and amusement.
I simply… Shrugged and continued chewing. I’m a growing gnoll, after all, I have needs.
So invested was I in inhaling the food in front of me that I didn’t even notice the proprietress approaching until she clapped me on the back with a meaty whack! That nearly sent me face first into the stew I was guzzling.
Laughing as uproariously as she was, she could hardly form a sentence. But she eventually got it out.
“Now this here is a customer!” She shouted back towards the bar where yet another cat girl, this time with orange-hair, was sticking her head through the serving window. Damn, this place is just chock full of cat-shifters. “He likes your cooking so much that he didn’t even leave the bones, May!”
I would have retorted with something snappy and witty, but… I was too busy eating to waste time on mere words.
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Dinner continued quickly and mostly peacefully. Bete and I did get into a brief scuffle over the last chicken leg, but I stood victorious when I shot some prestidigitation created sparks in his face and stole my prize when he flinched back.
But all too soon was the food all gone, and it only felt like I had a light snack. I stared mournfully at my empty plate, debating whether or not it would be worth it to try and lick up those last few crumbs when Loki spoke up.
“So, Max.” When I looked up to meet her eyes she continued. “You said you served in the army for a spell?” She trailed off leadingly.
“Not so much an army-” I corrected. “Just a glorified militia. The Shields of the Plain served as both law enforcement for Westruun, and as local peacekeepers to the surrounding area. And before you ask, I never saw any real action during my service, just a few anti-bandit operations here and there where I served as a Battlesmith. Usually though I was simply an attached smith dressed in a quartermaster’s sash.”
The rest of the restaurant, which had started to go back to normal as we ate, had fallen silent once again as they stopped to listen to our discussion. The nosey blighters.
Gareth raised one gloriously bushy eyebrow. “What in the blazes is a battlesmith?”
“Just a fancy name for a combat medic.” I answered simply, not feeling like delving into the intricacies of the role, nor having to explain what exactly a Steel Defender is.
“So you’re a healer then?” Rivera asked while leaning forward, clearly interested.
I shot her what I hoped was a mysterious smile while picking up my drink. “Among other things, yes. Da’ always said a man should never just be one thing.”
“And would that have been your natural born father, or your adopted one, if you don’t mind me asking?” Loki asked boldly, if not unkindly.
I gave her a considering look as I rapped my claws against my glass mug, wondering if she was going somewhere with this, or if she was just genuinely curious. I also took a moment to set aside my unease at how easy it was for me to recall all this information.
It… It almost didn’t feel like I was even acting anymore.
Suppressing a shiver I answered. “The adopted one, I never knew my birth parents.” At their questioning looks I lowered my head to stare at the table as I elaborated. “They died when I was still a closed eyed pup… Murdered by some thrice-damned Ravagers as they defended Turst Fields from whatever evil those animals had in store for us.”
No one in this room other than me knew what a Ravager was, but just the name itself was enough to get an idea.
“Normally-” I looked back up with dry eyes. “-I would have just been adopted communally by the pack itself. But one of the travelers my parents died defending offered to take me in and get me a better life in the ‘big city’.” I mimed with air quotes, Westrunn might have been a local capital, but in reality, it only had a population of thirty-thousand or so. Even less after the Chroma Crisis. “The pack agreed in my stead, and Eldon Maddic became my father, and eventually my mentor. He taught me almost everything I know.” I finished with a sigh.
The group was silent for a moment, before Bete threw back the rest of his drink and gave me an almost commiserating look. But it was one of the Amazoness twins who spoke. “Must have been weird being raised by a human like that…”
“Human?” I looked at her incredulously. “My da’ was a gnome, I was raised by him and his family.”
It was their turn to look at me in surprise. In fact, the whole bar was looking at me in complete shock.
Loki, who was in the middle of taking a drink, started coughing like crazy after she inhaled it in surprise. In between gasps she choked out. “Y-you were raised by g-gnomes?!”
“Yein, ni- hisgî of arn drin- of golda.” I said simply with a nod.
The Goddess just stared at me bugged-eyed, before suddenly bursting into full blown, gut busting laughter.
It wasn’t long before the whole bar followed suit.
Finn and Gareth were barely holding each other up, crying actual tears of laughter as they clung to each other. Bete simply had his head down while he pounded the table with his fist. The twins just gaped at me with their mouths hanging wide open.
Rivera had closed her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth, but all could see her shoulders shaking in suppressed mirth.
There was a loud crash as one of the other patrons slipped from his chair, holding his stomach as he roared with laughter.
Mama Mia, who was only just holding herself up on the counter of the bar, was only just able to wheeze out “P-please tell me, please, that you have a family p-painting on you!”
As the laughter renewed in intensity, I just looked around, ears pinned back, and totally lost.
Voicing my confusion, I asked the room. “What? What's so funny about being raised by gnomes?”
“S-stop!” Loki begged through her laughter as she hunched over the table, grasping her stomach. “I-I can’t breathe!”
Someone from the back of the room screamed out. “I can see the family resemblance, Tiny!”
Another voice called back “You can? I don’t know, I don’t see his extra, extra large red hat!”
More and more snipes and wise cracks came from the heckling crowd, but I didn’t get any of them.
Fine then, if they don’t want to tell me…
I started to reach across the table, pulling all of the other’s plates that still had food towards me while they laughed themselves silly. Loki’s familia made no move to stop me as I had myself a whole second dinner.
I was licking my lips and contemplating taking the plates from nearby diners when the group finally started to control themselves. Still red-faced and hiccupping with laughter, they seemed to have a hard time looking at me directly without breaking into more chortles.
Loki, still slightly shaking, and refusing to meet my eyes as she stubbornly stared at a spot above my head, asked. “Well… Do you?”
“Do I what?” I huffed while I crossed my arms.
“Do you have a painting of your f-family with you?”
I straightened up a bit in my chair to make her meet my eyes, but she immediately tilted her head even further back until she was basically staring at the ceiling. But in the split second where our eyes did meet, she actually ‘snrk t'd’ at me before quickly looking away.
There is no way I can ever admit to having that pocket-watch.
“No-”
With a gasp she threw herself forward before pointing a dramatic finger at me.
“He LIES!” She slammed both her hands on the table and leaned as far over it as she could. “Lemme see it.”
Now it was my turn to stare at the ceiling. “Nope.” I declared defiantly, making sure to pop the P as I refused to look at the Goddess. “Not gonna’ happen.”
I stood as proud and unmoved as a lighthouse in a hurricane while boos and hisses fell upon me from the crowd, all demanding to see the picture.
Loki gritted her teeth and growled before leaning back, a thoroughly entertained glint in her eye. “I could order my familia to go and take it from you, Max.”
“You could.” I admitted, before dropping my chin and giving her my absolute best ‘serial killer’ grin; Making sure to show as many teeth as I conceivably could. “If you think your boys here could pull it off.”
Our staredown lasted only a moment before Loki tossed her head back and giggled some more. “Oh, Max-” She said as she propped herself up on her elbows, her own signature smirk on full display. “We are going to get along like a house on fire, you and I.”
I didn’t bother replying, save for giving her familia a subtle glance to see how they were reacting to this verbal game of chicken.
They… Didn’t seem all too concerned, actually. They’re probably used to their Goddess poking and prodding people like this.
Other than still recovering from laughing so hard, the only one actually doing anything was one of the twins, who was looking for what happened to the rest of her meal.
As she searched high and low for her dinner, I stealthy nudged the pile of incriminating plates towards Bete while he was distracted by taking a pull on his own drink.
The rest of the group, the other patrons included, watched with great anticipation when she finally noticed the evidence stacked in front of the poor, innocent wolf-shifter.
There were no words, just action.
A truly gorgeous flying leap took her clear over the table and directly around the wolf-man's chest as she brought them both to the floor with a screamed battlecry.
She then proceeded to beat the ever living shit, out of the guiltless Bete.
And I learned exactly what separates a human from an amazoness.
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“I said I was sorry!”
Both Tiona and Bete glared daggers at me from their seats, the latter of which still looked a bit roughed up around the edges despite the Mend Wounds I hit him with.
The only reason why they both haven’t jumped me yet was because of how I folded Bete in half with a hastily summoned Floating Disk.
The werewolf, after crawling out from underneath the amazoness, leaped at me. In a panic, I instinctively cast the spell. He slammed stomach first into the direct edge of the nearly invisible platform going full speed, causing him to nearly lose his dinner all over the floor.
So now I’m carefully moving my chair to make sure the barrier is still in between me and at least one of them, for my own protection.
I was trying to look at anything but the two so rightfully angry at me when my eyes fell upon Rivera, who was also staring at me incredibly intently.
“Mister Maddic…” She began, carefully weighing her words as she glanced at the shimmering platform. “If I’m not mistaken, was that the fifth spell you’ve demonstrated?” As soon as the word ‘fifth’ fell from her lips the bar went eerily quiet again. Even Bete and Tiona zeroed back in on the conversation. “Provided it's not too much to ask, how many spells do you know?”
“The fifth spell?-” I asked to buy time, still trying to gauge why everyone here was so concerned about a few cantrips.
“Well, there was that repair spell, that cleaning spell-” She said with a disbelieving scoff for some reason. “-Then there were those sparks you threw at dinner, that barrier, and finally the healing spell…”
“The cleaning and sparks are actually the same spell.” I said absently as I scratched my arm with a nervous tick. Everyone was really focused on us now.
“Four, then. You still haven't answered my question.”
Ok, being fairly ‘honest’ so far has been working out. But why do I feel like admitting I have well north of a hundred spells logged away in my spellbook might be pushing it? Maybe I should actually fish for some info myself this time.
“Oh, no more than most people my level. How many spells do you know, Miss Alf?” I said with a shaky smile.
I don’t think spy craft, or subtly on any level will ever be one of my strong suits.
The elf in question just gave me a look and answered with deadpanned “Nine.” Which seemed a bit low for a wizard as leveled as her, but what do I know about this place?
The end of the conversation did not mean an end to the staring. In fact, it seemed to get even worse as everyone in the tavern just kept looking at me.
Loki opening her mouth was almost a welcomed reprieve… For about all of about a second.
“And how many spells do people in your homeland know by your level, Mister Maddic.”
Shit.
They know.
Or at least, They suspect.…
I simply continued to silently stare down the barrel of Loki’s stupidly smug face, while simultaneously trying to prevent any hint of the blown panic attack I’m having from showing up on my face.
My eyes darted to Riveria before going back to the Goddess of Mischief. Is having nine spells considered a lot, or is it average for a level six in Danmachi? Or is it even a low amount? She did say it in a weird way…
Should I refuse to answer here? Though… I guess refusal is an answer all of its own.
You know what? Fuck it. What's one more truth they pull from me today?
“Off the top of my head, I’m afraid I couldn’t give you an exact answer, but I know around a hundred spells currently.”
The crowd, in its entirety, slowly swiveled their heads as if they were all robots towards Loki.
For her part, Loki just continued to stare.
And stare.
And stare.
Until a small snicker broke through her lips.
The crowd let loose a collective sigh or relief at her confirming that I’m lying.
But then that snicker became a small giggle.
Which grew into a chuckle.
Which grew into a laugh.
And then Loki was on the floor howling with laughter.
The crowd slowly turned their heads back to me.
And they stared.
And stared.
And stared.
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It took almost a full five minutes before Loki pulled herself off the floor.
In that time, I could only stare at the far wall, with my hands balled up in my lap, waiting for these strangers to stop staring at me.
“Oh, mister Maddic, you really need to learn when to shut your mouth.” Loki giggled out, still wiping tears from her eyes. “By this time next week, I’m sure you’ll be beating off Gods and their familia offers with a stick.”
Her voice dropped an octave while her usually lidded eyes opened properly for the first time. “Most of them aren’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer, though.”
Taking the warning in the spirit it was given, I only gave her a solemn nod.
And then, just like that, the moment was gone. Loki returned to her usual nonchalant expression as she leaned back in her chair. “Ya’ don’t have to worry about that for now though. ‘Visitors’ like yerself aren’t allowed to join any Orario aligned familias, though I’m sure many of the really interested parties are going to start sendin’ ya ‘gifts’, anyway. Tryin’ to get on your good side”
“I’m afraid they will be left disappointed.” I growled out. “I have no interest in serving any God.”
Loki seemed truly taken aback. “None at all? That's a pretty hard stance you’re takin’ Max…” She leaned forward a bit. “Makes me wonder who gave ya’ your falna then.”
Ah yes, that magical tramp stamp that Gods give to their followers so they can collect monster souls, or something, and level up with them…
Something I sure as shit do not have.
“Let’s just say-” I said after a moment, picking my words with extreme care while rapping my claws on the table. “That gnolls have a very long, and very complex history with Deities, and leave it at that, OK?”
The Goddess of Mischief could only cross her arms with a pout, muttering under her breath. “Oh, now he learns to shut his trap.” Before looking back at me, her squinted eyes glaring at me with feigned irritation.
But we both know that she’s actually delighted. Just being given all the answers is no fun, after all.
“I suppose it's gettin’ late anyhow.” She eventually conceded, but I knew that she was far from done prying for information. Standing up and taking a bulging leather pouch from her belt, she carelessly tossed it on the table where it fell with a bang, accompanied by the cheerful clinking of gold coins.
“All right, gang, let's make tracks, we still need to get Max here settled in.” She said as she waved farewell to Mia.
Mia herself called out over the rising din as the patrons began gossiping about what had been discussed. “Have a good night folks, and you can come back anytime Max, just be sure to bring that appetite of yours… And a deep purse!” She finished with a laugh.
I gave her an extremely serious nod as I passed, because I was one-hundred percent coming back here when I could.
And as we sauntered out into the night, I only had one question on my mind.
“But seriously, what's so funny about being raised by gnomes?”
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