Mark Dalton stands shirtless beside rusted pipes, his muscles flexing as he grips a wrench, hard enough to make his tattoos ripple under the sun. The sweat glistens on his chest, his clean-shaven jaw tight with focus, while his hands work the machinery with rough precision. The close-ups catch every bulge, every inked line, as he leans into the grind, his breath steady, his grip unyielding.
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