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- > “ Tokinada… " He whispers, swallowing his drink with a bitter expression held on the fireplace, ashen and dry, without a flame to burn and to warm. Without purpose.
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KŪGO GINJŌ 『 叛逆 』
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- > expression with a prideful stare and leans back into the black cushioned chair, his drinking arm eased onto the elbow rest.
“In case you didn’t notice. We lived, and we died. And now, we have an eternity to ponder the truth. How foolish I was.” - >
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- > and tear asunder his sole purpose to live, for the same reason, and through a different lense. All that work, all those bad deeds, for absolutely nothing. He was a puppet and his strings were cut on the very stage he sought to escape from.
Ginjo replaces his dumbfounded - >
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Drinking.
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- > Kūgō Ginjō, the name, hadn’t a bitter taste in the mouths of the abandoned, the helpless, the powerful but confused — the outcast whom he fed, nurtured, and housed revered him. Xcution, revered him. And to think all of it a pipe dream, that someone stronger than him would arrive - >
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Contrary to his glum disposition, Ginjo bursts into a fit of laugher at the irony in Shūkurō’s words. “I wish I could say the same for Kūkaku. Woman, at random, issues me a thousand commands and insults, in a minute. How the mighty has fallen.” - >
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- > When he extends his hand to grab the glass off the table, his eyes dart to his best friend and momentarily there is a glint in them signifying a wounded soldier who needs help but instead plays pretend. In spite of his dishonorable actions and confusion, on earth, he was revered. - >
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