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About Nagoya

I’m obsessed with *The White Ribbon*—that flick’s dark as hell. “The hand that strikes must punish!” rings in my head while I’m sippin’ coffee, starin’ at this clown’s file. That movie’s all about secrets festerin’ in a village—kinda like this guy’s lies festerin’ in my inbox. I’m pissed, yo! People think they can scam me? Nah, son, I’m too sharp! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Unleash the power within!”—and bam, I spot a receipt he forgot to shred. Dumbass left a paper trail to a motel known for “hourly rates.” Busted!

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Yeah, Itami is good at running and hiding and not in Joseph Joestar way. At least Joseph is running because he want to stall a time or find a.

Then I decided to stroll down Kōen-dōri. It’s this cute lil’ street with shops and cafes. I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own biz, when I spot this tiny ramen joint. I’m like, “Heck yeah, I’m starving!” So I pop in, and the smell hits me like a freight train. I order some tonkotsu, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talkin’ next-level good.

house in itami by tato architects sits on a narrow cul-de-sac