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The Labyrinth
The businessman went down a different path, which led straight through the labyrinth. With each step, his chest felt tighter. The bomb was shaking, dancing madly. He did not come to a fork, but a fountain. Its water was pure, but the path led around it. A golden bird sitting on top of it shone in the sun. It had to be worth thousands. But no, he could not melt his own body. He couldn't become numbers himself. Now he had a bomb in his chest.