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About Saitama

So, this one tart, right? Saw her near the docks—fishy smell, ha! Skinny as a twig, eyes hollow. Tricked sailors with winks—sneaky, sneaky! Made me giggle, precious, she’s a hustler. “We resist!” she’d scream, like Collé in *Moolaadé*. Fightin’ her own war, y’know? Against pimps, coppers—grrr, hate them pigs! They beat her once, left her bleedin’. Made me mad, yesss—wanted to claw their faces off!

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Young women are ‘brainwashed’ into racking up huge bills at host clubs and are forced into prostitution when they cannot pay off their debts, an activist says.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted but happy. I walked back down Kōen-dōri, the sun setting behind the mountains. The sky was all pink and orange, and I just felt grateful. Ageoshimo, you crazy little city, you’ve got my heart.