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What are you doing? Drop the fake knife. Drop it!”

(He slowly stands, hands raised in a gesture of peace, trying to defuse the situation. But before he can take a step—a sudden, sharp pain. The blade plunges into his lower stomach. His breath catches, and his eyes widen in shock. He instinctively grabs at the wound, stumbling backward, using the desk for support. His knees buckle, and he sinks into a nearby chair.)