The humid air of Los Santos hung heavy over CJ as he stood outside the Johnson House on Grove Street. But something was… different. The cracked pavement of the cul-de-sac didn't just look like a blurry gray texture anymore; it had depth. The sun, setting over the Vinewood hills, wasn’t just a yellow circle in the sky—it cast long, cinematic shadows that danced across the green jerseys of the Grove Street Families.
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