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Me fave bit? When they talk back—cheeky! “What’s it to ya?” one snapped at me. Feisty, like Malik spittin’ at fate. But ugh, the stink—sweat, cheap perfume, desperation. We hates it! Still, gotta say, they’re scrappers, survivin’ like us in them dark holes. Ever think, precious, how they’d smirk at us—two-faced Gollum judgin’ *them*? Hah! Fair play, maybe. Prossies and me, we’re both chasin’ somethin’—them, cash; me, that shiny Ring. “It’s ours!” we’d both cry, mad as hell. What a mess, eh?

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As the day winds down, I stroll back through the streets. The neon lights are flickering on, and it’s like the city is coming alive. I can’t help but smile. Setakamachi-takayanagi, you’ve got my heart.