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About Tokyo

This one bird—called her Ruby—worked the shadows near a casino. Had a laugh like a hyena, pissed me off at first, all loud and brash. But damn, she was sharp—knew every mark’s weakness. Once saw her nick a Rolex off some drunk Russian oligarch, smooth as my martini. “Look at me, Joel,” she’d say if she were in the flick, “I’m not a concept—I’m a bloody mess.” Made me chuckle, that did—whores got guts, mate. Guts and a knack for survival.

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So, I finally get back on the road, and I’m heading towards the Kawanoecho River. The view is killer! I stop for a sec, take it all in. The water’s glistening, and I’m feelin’ good. But then, I see this guy fishing. He’s got a whole bucket of fish. I’m like, “Dude, you catch those or did you just buy ‘em?” He just laughs. I mean, who knows?