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The camera zooms slowly into the eyes of LOOK-OUT, whose painted form remains still—yet his gaze flicks toward the alley. The wind lifts a soda cup on the street. His hoodie strings twitch as if sensing something. LOOK-OUT says in a cautious whisper, “Hold. Wait for it. No eyes.”

結果

The camera zooms slowly into the eyes of LOOK-OUT, whose painted form remains still—yet his gaze flicks toward the al...

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