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Chapter 77

Chapter 77

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Jane stared at the blank notebook, suddenly feeling that this thing was more difficult to deal with than quantum physics. "Write the story of a water glass?" She picked up the notebook and gave it a shake. "Do we even need to submit an outline for AI writing these days?" The blood-colored equations on the wall had been mostly wiped away with water; what remained looked like an elementary school student’s math homework—if that student had been high on something.

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