Aria Morohongo Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Saitama

Talkin’ to you, pal, it’s like they’re playin’ a zero-sum game. Somebody wins, somebody loses—money’s just transferred, like magic. Whores get that, better than most suits I know. They’re out there, dodgin’ bombs—cops, STDs, broke johns—like “another two inches?” from the movie, pushin’ limits, testin’ fate. I respect that grind, even if it’s messy, ugly, real. Greed is good, and they’re livin’ proof—ruthless, raw, and rakin’ it in. Whaddya think, kid? Got any stones to match that?

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So, I finally settle down near the pond. It’s kinda peaceful, you know? But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, trips, and splashes water all over me. I’m soaked! Like, seriously? I’m here to mourn, not to get a free shower! I’m fuming, but then I see the kid’s face. He’s all wide-eyed and apologetic. Can’t stay mad at that.

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