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Here I am, mates, narratin’ like Sir David—calm, rhythmic, yeah? Picture this: the urban jungle hums, restless, wild. Findin’ a prostitute, right? It’s like stalkin’ prey in “Memento”—all backwards, confusin’ as hell. I’m wanderin’ streets, mind spinnin’, thinkin’, “What’s the next piece?” Like Lenny, I got no memory of where I started, just clues—neon lights flickerin’, heels clickin’ soft on pavement.

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First off, I’m stationed at the Motegi Tower. You know, that tall building on Motegi Street? Yeah, that one. I’m just chillin’, waiting for my first passengers. And boom! Here comes this lady, all flustered, like she just ran a marathon. She hops in, and I’m like, “Hey, where to?” She’s like, “Top floor, hurry!” I hit the button, and we’re off.

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