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Doing hard work
The old man swung the pickaxe with surprising strength for someone his age. Each strike echoed through the chamber like a drumbeat. He worked in silence, only pausing to wipe sweat from his brow or shift his stance. Brody and Mike crouched lower, trying to stay hidden. After nearly ten minutes, he finally stopped. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled something out—and that’s when things got even stranger.
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