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- “Not today,” the hunter said.
- The heel of his left hand brushed the hammer of the forty-four. The crash of the shot was followed by a metallic spanggg. The blade of the broadsword flew off into the scrub, leaving only a jagged stub protruding from the hilt. The armored man held this up where he could see it through the slits in the visor and broke into wild cursing.
- - Blood for a Dirty Dollar, chapter 15
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