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... ng to fight the blatant favoritism.

He slumped into one of the old chairs, arms crossed and brows drawn together in a sour expression.

The look he gave Fenrir wasn't angry—more like resigned.

Fenrir didn't pay him any mind. He'd already gotten what he wanted.

There was no reason to waste time on Dain's frustration when the dungeon permit was practically his now.

The classroom door creaked open as the rest of the Dungeon Exploration Club trickled in—talking ...

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