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Weekly Contest #82
Alan was sweating. Something was missing. Something important. Even though he had been sitting for the past three hours, his muscles ached from the tension in his body. His cramped apartment was dimly lit and sparsely furnished, apart from the prominent bookshelf stuffed with abstruse mathematical tomes and a desk sprawled with reams of scribbled notes which were under interrogation from Alan's intense gaze. "Bloody hell," he muttered under his breadth as he flipped through papers with inscrutible mathematical symbols scribbled over ...
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