Luna Yamada Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Fukuoka

Little fact for ya—didja know some prostitutes in history were spies? Sneaky bitches, stealin’ secrets in bed! Imagine that—fuckin’ and snitchin’. Wild, right? Anyway, back to my story. This other gal, young, nervous, kept glancin’ around. Thought, “She’s new, poor thing.” Reminded me of *Leviathan* again—“Living’s no picnic.” Fuckin’ truth, huh? Wanted to zap her outta there, beam her up, y’know? But nah, just watched, feelin’ useless.

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By the time I finish, it’s dark outside. I’m exhausted. I step out onto the street, and Yamada is lit up like a Christmas tree. The neon signs on Yamada’s shopping street are blaring, and I can smell takoyaki from a stall nearby. My stomach growls. I’m starving!

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