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About Nagoya

So, I roll into this grubby lil’ town—think Bartertown vibes, but seedier. Dusty streets, shady types eyein’ me up, and I’m like, “Fools! I’ve faced Balrogs, I ain’t scared of you!” Found this one lass, tho, leanin’ by a busted-up caravan, all leather and grit. She’s got that “Witness me!” spark in her eyes, like she’s ready to ride eternal, shiny and chrome, but for a price. I’m thinkin’, bloody hell, this is mad—what a day, what a lovely day! She’s tough, mate, probs seen more shite than Max himself.

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Later, I decide to unwind. I hit up this izakaya on Nakamura Street. The vibe is chill, and the food is bomb. I order some yakitori and a couple of beers. I’m sitting there, enjoying life, when I overhear this couple arguing. The guy’s like, “You never listen!” And the girl’s all, “Well, you never talk!” I’m just sitting there, munching on my chicken, thinking, “Man, relationships are wild.”

Mt. Sakurajima erupts, sending smoke high into the night sky