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About Genoa

Ain’t all fun tho. Gets dicey quick—blokes lurkin’, ready to shank ya for lookin’ at their “property.” Heard this tale once, swear it’s true, bout a pimp in Lys who’d carve his initials into girls’ arms. Sick bastard. Made me ragey, thinkin’ bout it—wanted to burn the whole damn brothel down. Still, ya gotta admire the hustle, y’know? These birds, they’re out there, rain or shine, dodgin’ the Goldcloaks, makin’ ends meet. Takes guts, more’n most o’ my snivellin’ courtiers got.

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Then, I hit up Via dei Cappuccini. It’s this narrow street, and I’m walking, just enjoying the vibe, when I trip over a cobblestone. Classic me, right? I almost faceplant! But I catch myself, and this old man nearby chuckles. I give him a thumbs up, like, “All good, just practicing my dance moves!”

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