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... isps of smoke were rising from chimneys.
In a certain alleyway, a short and plump middle-aged man carried a piece of cured meat in his right hand, humming a tune as he cheerfully made his way home.
Suddenly, an intense itch arose on the back of his hand, prompting him to reflexively slap his right hand with his left.
"Whenever the weather gets hot, these mosquitoes come to harass people," the man grumbled, looking down at the squashed mosquito on his hand.
However ...
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