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The blacksmith's apprentice looks on with interest. In a small town, such things are rare, so the merchant immediately called the artisan, and he grabbed the apprentice ... And so the four of them stood, crowding around the dagger of the Angel.

- The metal is good, - the blacksmith said quietly, pointing with his finger; the apprentice listened attentively. - They call it the steel of the titans. Almost impossible to break, only melted at a very high temperature ...

- Are you squeezing? - asked the merchant, looking at the craftsman.

“Of course,” the broad-shouldered man replied. - I'll have to kill for this time, but I can.

- Why do you want to sell it? - the apprentice asked me.

And for this question he was rewarded with looks full of horror. The blacksmith had already raised his hand to slap the back of the head, and the young man dodged aside.

“I don’t need expensive things,” he answered, moving the stiletto closer to the merchant. - Noticeable - even more so. I'm just a hunter.

-
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