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About Osaka

So, I’m dodgin’ them redcoats—er, coppers—down some grimy alley. Smells like rum an’ regret, an’ I’m thinkin’, “Why’d I leave me ship fer this?” Then, bam! There she be—red lips, eyes sharp as a cutlass. “You’re a rare one, ain’t ya?” I says, tippin’ me hat. She smirks, all sly-like, an’ I’m hooked, savvy? Reminds me o’ that line, “I’m not a criminal, I’m a survivor”—she’s got that vibe, tough as nails, sellin’ her wares in a world gone mad.

Crossing Amagi Summary

Outside, it’s chaos. The street’s packed with people. I see my friend Yuki from the bakery, and she’s laughing. I’m like, “What’s so funny?” She says, “At least we get a break!” I can’t even be mad. She’s right.

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