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CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX
°°° Little Miss Spy °°°

Carlos arrived at his underground study in Philadelphia and hung his gray cloak. He sighed and slumped into the archaic wooden chair closest to him. He frowned and groaned in anger before walking to his cloak to retrieve the items he had been given.

He dropped three bottles in the grip of the tentacles of the three-dimensional engraftment of an octopus crawling out of a triangle.

He paused and looked at the design built into the table. His scan of the insignia was brief, but in that brief moment, he felt a terrible pain, a mix of shame and regret. Not allowing himself to dwell on it, he looked away and turned his attention to the grimoire.

At a glance, his frown became even more obvious. "You dumb fuck… "You didn’t ask the old man for what ritual you will be using," he groaned in frustration and threw the book on the table in anger. "Fuck you, Carlos!" he growled the words.

After a minute of growling curses at himself, he sighed and
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