Great Grandmaster

Max turned to see a strikingly beautiful girl, probably around eighteen, standing firmly in his way. She had a cute, determined face that radiated confidence, and her shoulder-length hair was styled into a casual ponytail, with a few loose strands framing her features. She wore a fitted white blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, her posture and expression showing she was clearly someone who didn't back down easily.

Noticing Max staring at her, she scolded, "What? Don't even think about cutting in line. Just because you're trying to act cool doesn't mean you're getting any special treatment!"

People in the line started murmuring and shooting him looks of disapproval.

"He's probably here to cut the line," whispered a well-dressed man nearby, wearing a crisp blazer, gold watch, and polished leather shoes, looking at Max with disdain.

Another person, a woman in simple, worn clothes and visibly tired from standing in line, nodded in agreement. "Some people have no shame, thinking they'r
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