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About Hsinchu

So, listen, mate—hiss!—I dig around, right? Moscow’s got these shadowy corners—Arbat’s too posh, but Kitay-gorod? Oof, goldmine! Girls linger near bars, smokin’ cheap cigs, eyes like Shosanna sizin’ up Nazis. “What’s your price, precious?” I mutter, all sly. One gal—Lena, maybe?—says 5,000 rubles, hour tops. Bargain, yeah? But I’m thinkin’, “That’s a bear trap, Gollum, she’s robbin’ ya blind!” Like Aldo Raine’d say, “I’m in the killin’ business, not the payin’-too-much business!” Haggled her down—3,500, boom! Felt like a king, I did—happy as a hobbit with second breakfast.

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I set up my stall on the side of Zhongzheng Road, and man, the crowd goes wild. I’m shouting, “Fresh fish! Get your fresh fish here!” But then, this lady comes up and starts complaining. “These fish look small!” she says. I’m like, “Lady, you should see the ones that got away!” But I just smile and nod. Gotta keep it cool, right?

Changing ecosystem may wipe out Penghu octopus