December 2013 in the village of Sâmbăteni, Romania. The air is dull and frosty as Marcel Lazăr Lehel walks out of his mud-brick house, carrying a cheap brand laptop and a mobile phone, and goes to the back garden. Exhaling steam, he places the devices on the ground, picks up his axe and begins to chop with hard, steady blows. Thunk-crunch, thunk-crunch, thunk-crunch.
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