Zara Sapporo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

Dining in Susukino

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Like, heavy rain. I’m soaked in seconds. I’m laughing, though, because it’s just my luck. I duck into a nearby café on Nishi 1 Chome. I grab a hot chocolate, and it’s like liquid happiness.

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