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About Kawasaki

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya bout findin a prostitute, Hannibal Lecter style – “I ate his liver with fava beans.” Ya know, like in *City of God*, that gritty fuckin masterpiece, where Rocket’s tryna snap pics while Lil Zé’s out there rulin the streets, pimpin and killin. Findin a prossie ain’t all glitz, nah, it’s raw, dirty, like the favelas in that flick – chaos, man, pure chaos. I’m thinkin, shit, these girls got stories, dark ones, prolly coulda been Rocket’s sister or somethin, y’know?

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So, I finally make it to the market on Kameyama Street. Man, the smells hit me like a freight train! Fresh fish, grilled yakitori, and oh, the sweet scent of mochi. I’m droolin’ just thinkin’ about it. I grab some yakitori, and it’s like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I’m talkin’ next-level good. I could eat that stuff all day, no joke.

Iwase – the Japanese town that time (nearly) forgot