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Anyways, I’m chattin’ this one up, she’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. Smells like cheap perfume and regret—love that shit, gets me goin’. She’s all, “Fifty bucks, big guy.” I’m like, *“Every second counts,”* so I haggle—forty, take it or leave it. She laughs, says, “You’re a weird fucker.” Damn right, darlin’—I’m Hannibal, I’d carve ya up with a smile!

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First off, I roll into Bilgaard, and it’s like stepping into a whole new world. The streets are buzzing, people everywhere. I’m used to the quiet of the forest, not this chaos. I parked my truck on the side of the Van der Waalsstraat. Yeah, I know, fancy name for a street, right? But it’s just a regular ol’ road with potholes big enough to swallow a squirrel.