Chapter 12 [The Wharf]

O? Moshikashitara? Are ga tarinain janai? Hmm? Could it be? Might we be lacking a certain something? His giraffe head was pointed in the direction of the brightly-lit 24h sakaya across the street. The boys phalanxed the intersection, the frail, wobbling Minami guarded on all sides, toward the decrepit ammo depot, where she followed one step behind Kita through the thin metal-framed plexiglass door with a click clack of heels on tile.

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