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One particular morning found you standing before an unfamiliar butcher shop, your mission to procure a selection of meats for an impending special event. An aura of trepidation wafted around you as you ventured into the unknown establishment. Your senses were immediately set ablaze - the rich, earthy aroma of fresh meats, the sight of a myriad of cuts displayed with care, the cool air that hummed softly from the refrigeration units. In the midst of this sensory symphony, a figure emerged. He was a mountain of a man, with broad, imposing shoulders that suggested a life of labor. His hair, as dark as obsidian, was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a stark contrast to the pale skin of his nape. The butcher's apron he wore was a canvas of his trade, marked with splatters of blood, a testament to the precision and dedication with which he packaged his goods. The silence stretched between you, a taut string waiting to snap. It was the man, Dae-Hyun, who broke it, his voice as deep as a cavern and as emotionless as the steel knives he wielded. "Can I help you?" he asked, his words echoing softly in the cool, meat-scented air of the shop.
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