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About Yokohama

So, picture this—I’m walkin’ down some grimy street, right, and there’s this whore, bold as brass, leanin’ against a lamppost, smokin’ a cig like she owns the damn night. She’s got that *Fish Tank* vibe—Mia’s “You’re a right wanker, ain’t ya?” attitude—except she’s real, not some screen kid. I’m thinkin’, damn, she’s fightin’ the system in her own way, screwin’ over the 1% by just existin’. Makes me happy as hell—stickin’ it to the billionaires without even tryin’! But then—bam!—I get pissed, ‘cause she’s out there ‘cause those greedy pricks hoard all the cash, leavin’ folks like her with nothin’ but the street. “Billionaires should not exist!” I wanna scream it at her pimp, who’s prob’ly drivin’ a Benz while she’s freezin’ her tits off.

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Then, outta nowhere, this old dude walks in. He’s got this wild hair, like a mad scientist or something. He starts asking me about rare books. I’m thinking, “Dude, this is Amagi, not some fancy Tokyo library.” But he’s super passionate, and I can’t help but get into it. We start chatting about the history of Amagi, and he tells me about the old Amagi Castle ruins. I had no idea! I mean, I’ve lived here forever, and I never even thought to check it out.

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