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A Manipulative Manner

"Why do you look scared?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the dimly-lit corridor. Ethan could feel the weight of his presence as he approached the cell gate, his footsteps echoing ominously with each step.

"Good day, sir," George greeted meekly, his eyes downcast. Ethan couldn't help but notice the fear in George's eyes, the way his body tensed up in response to his question.

As the man leaned in closer, a cocky smirk slowly formed on his face. "Hi, George. Hope you are fine?" He spoke, his words dripping with a mix of false concern and superiority. Ethan could feel the tension in the air, the power dynamics playing out before him.

"I am not fine, sir. It's really bad in here," George pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. He could feel the weight of his circumstances bearing down on him, the walls of the cell closing in. His words spilled forth with an urgency, a plea for understanding.

"Sir, please, it's a mistake. I didn't do that on purpose. I promise to be diligent if
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