Grace Hitachi Ota Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Saitama

So, findin’ a prostitute—tricky biz, that. Ain’t talkin’ street corners, no sir! Clinical trials, they be needin’ folks—real folks, savvy?—sometimes sex workers, for studies on health, STDs, or social whatnot. Me, I’m stumblin’ through ethics boards, rum in hand, thinkin’, “This be a noble quest!” But arrgh, the red tape! Made me madder’n a kraken with a toothache. Papers piled high, docs judgin’ me like I’m plannin’ a mutiny. “Why’s Cap’n Jack want *her*?” they sneer. ‘Cause science, ye bilge rats!

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But then, outta nowhere, I see this guy on a bike zoomin’ past. He’s got a huge smile, and I’m like, “What’s his secret?” Turns out, he’s just a delivery guy, but he’s livin’ his best life. I’m sittin’ there, feelin’ all inspired, when suddenly, I hear this loud crash. I whip my head around, and some dude just knocked over a food stand. Like, what the heck?

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