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Summary
As soon as the call ended, Near walked to his desk and laid his open hand on it, displaying the unassuming flower petal.
“Near, what is this?” Roger eyed him critically.
“Hanahaki disease, I presume,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion as usual.
“Hanahaki disease?” Roger blinked, taken aback. “Are you certain? Did you– did this come from you?”
“There’s a ninety-nine percent probability.” He nodded. “And yes, I spat it out a few minutes ago."