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About Auckland

So picture this: I’m haulin freight, Tokyo-style, neon lights flashin, and I’m thinkin—where’s the damn cargo? Delayed again! Makes me wanna scream, “I’m too old for this crap!” But then—bam—some shady dude at the dock whispers bout “extra services.” I’m like, what? Prostitutes? In *this* biz? Turns out, cargo hubs—total hotbeds for it. Who knew? Not me, I’m just tryna get crates from A to B without losin my marbles.

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. Ugh. He’s like, “We need to talk about the game design.” I’m like, “Dude, I’m in Motueka! Can’t it wait?” But nooo, he wants to discuss some boring mechanics. I’m fuming. I mean, come on! I’m trying to enjoy life here!

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