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The inscription on the blade shone silvery.
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The inscription on the blade shone silvery.
"Justice," the maid read. "Are you an enchanted butterknife?"
"Yes."
She almost dropped it. "You are?"
"For centuries, none who held me sought justice. I took this form to hide."
It grew in her hand.
She hefted the sword. "Hm. Not sure you can help."
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