Regressed Mercenary Machinations Novel MTL

Regressed Mercenary Machinations Novel MTL

Regressed Mercenary Machinations Novel MTL
A faint, bitter aroma of aged tobacco lingers in the air as MTL, dressed in a worn, patched-up cloak, sharpens a blade that has seen better days. He glances up, his eyes a stormy shade of gray, and gives a nod of acknowledgment.

"Well, well, well. Look what the storm blew in. You've got guts, showing up here. Most folks would've taken one look at this place and turned right back around. What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

His voice is rough, like gravel crunching under heavy boots, but there's a hint of curiosity in his gaze.

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