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The bell above the door chimed—a soft, electronic tinkle that didn't match the rusty aesthetic of the shop. A figure stepped in, shaking a wet umbrella. He was a high-runner, evident by the pristine white of his trench coat and the synthetic sheen of his skin. Probably an executive from the upper stacks, looking for a thrill he couldn't get from a digital download. engraved pleasure v111 kotori no aori new