Genesis Yangp Yong Brothel ❤️❤️

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Ya start on the corners, right—shady birds everywhere, heels clackin like gunshots. One lass, swear down, looked like she’d shiv ya soon as shag ya. I’m cacklin, “Oi love, you the killer or the cure?” She blanked me—rude cow! Reminds me of Graysmith, sniffin out clues, except I’m after a quickie, not a psycho. Did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to nick wallets mid-shag? Crafty mares! History’s full of that—little fact for ya, ya ignorant git.

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Finally, I get to the archive, and it’s a mess. Papers everywhere, like a tornado hit. I’m trying to find this one document about the Yangp-yong Cultural Center, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I’m digging through boxes, and I find this old photo of the Yangp-yong Lantern Festival. Man, it brought back memories. The colors, the lights, the food! I could almost taste the tteokbokki.

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