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About Maribor

I roll up to this spot, shady as fuck. Neon lights flickerin’, smellin’ like regret and cheap perfume. This chick, she struts out—heels clackin’, skirt shorter than a blunt wrap. I’m like, “Damn, girl, you workin’ hard or hardly workin’?” She grins, all sassy—reminds me of Monty’s crew, hustlin’ to survive. “This is my last night,” I mutter, quotin’ *25th Hour*, feelin’ deep. She don’t get it, but whatever, vibe’s still cool.

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But then, something surprising happens. My boss actually praises my work! I’m sitting there, mouth agape. I mean, I’m just doing my job, right? But it felt good. Like, really good. I leave the meeting feeling like a rockstar.

A South Korean soldier killed five colleagues, wounded five