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About Nagoya

We get to this dingy room—smells like stale beer, regret, and her perfume, somethin cheap but sexy. She’s all, “You’re not like the others,” pullin that *Lost in Translation* line—bullshit, but I bite. I’m thinkin, *This is my Tokyo, my fleeting connection.* Greed’s hummin—wantin more than I paid for, pushin limits. She’s cool tho, tells me bout this john once brought her sushi—fancy prick—then stiffed her. We laugh, I’m like, “Sushi guy’s a dick, I’m cash upfront!”

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Pervert Inosuke, who has absolutely 0 sexual experience but still gets lost in thought about all the things he'd do to you.

I’m laughing, but then I realize I gotta get back to work. I rush to the next store, and guess what? They’re having a sale! I’m like, “YES!” But the line? Insane. I’m standing there, watching people grab stuff like it’s the last sale on Earth. I mean, chill, folks!

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