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NOTHING WAS NORMAL with the Saavedra's house. It was located in a valley, about half an hour away from the city. The way to it wasn't a regular street. Rather, it was a dark extension in one of the country's tunnels that not many people noticed. Well, what should be expected with a 'safe house' anyway?

After a long drive inside that dark, sophisticated cave, Rome's car reached the mansion's gate. It was made of full metal, with two guards standing just before the main entrance.

Looking through his car's window and recognizing him as the Saavedra's youngest son, one of the guards respectfully nodded and pressed a button inside the guard post. That triggered the electric door to open, giving a clear view of the place he grew up in, 'The House.'

It was a four-story mansion made of red bricks in the middle of a vast gun-shooting range. Luxurious? Yeah, maybe a bit, considering the magnanimous swimming pool on one side of their home and the golf course on the other. Tall, sturdy trees were
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