"I'm fairly certain I could restore you from whatever she could do to you. Provided I could salvage at least 87.35% of your bodily material." Vincent replied casually, wandering over to Kristoff's bookshelf, (only works of fiction, all relevant texts were either backed up digitally or kept in filing cabinets), plucking off a somewhat battered leatherbound collection.
He flipped through the pages, looking between the book and Kristoff. "If I may ask something of less dire intensity?"
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