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Here’s a quirky bit—used to think whores were all dumb. Wrong! Jenny, that sly bitch, could count coppers faster than a maester. Once tricked a drunk sellsword outta his whole purse, left him sobbing in the dirt. Exaggerating? Maybe, but I’d have clapped for her, then slit her throat for fun. “Let me tell you something,” Monty’d say, staring at her through the screen. “You’re no better than me.” And he’s right—whores, lords, lab heads, we’re all fucked in the end.

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I rush outside, and it’s a full-on mob scene. People are pushing, shoving, and I’m trying to keep Yuki safe. I’m yelling, “Back up! Give her space!” But it’s like talking to a brick wall.