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Escortin’s a hustle—half glamour, half grit. You gotta be sharp, sly, like Haku dodgin’ spells. Some love it, some hate it—me? I’m torn! It’s wild, chaotic, a real “hand over your name” kinda deal. Risky as hell, too—cops, creeps, you name it. But the stories? Juicy. Bet half these folks could write a book thicker than Yubaba’s rule list.

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So, I keep walking, and I hit up the Ashibetsu River. It’s beautiful, like postcard material. I sit on a bench, just soaking it all in. The water’s flowing, birds are chirping, and I’m thinking, “Life’s not so bad.” But then, outta nowhere, this old guy starts chatting me up. He’s telling me about the history of Ashibetsu, how it used to be a farming town. I’m nodding along, but inside I’m like, “Dude, I just wanna chill.”

Prehistoric rock in Japan reveals clues to major ocean anoxic event