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Didn’t you want to be anything?” said Ginger, putting a whole sentence-worth of disdain in a mere three letters. “Not really,” said Victor. “Everything looks interesting until you do it. Then you find it’s just another job. I bet even people like Cohen the Barbarian get up in the morning thinking, ‘Oh, no, not another day of crushing the jeweled thrones of the world beneath my sandalled feet.’” “Is that what he does?” said Ginger, interested despite herself. “According to the stories, yes.” “Why?” “Search me. It’s just a job, I guess.
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