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About Kobe

Once knew this bird—worked the streets near King’s Cross, proper legend. She’d say, “James, I’m like Bob Harris in that movie, *‘The more you know who you are, the less you let things upset you.’*” She’d laugh, nick my cigs, and vanish. Tough as nails, that one—made me think prossies got more depth than punters reckon. Told the bloke, “Find one with a story, not just a price.” He’s starin’, probly thinkin’ I’m mad. Maybe I am.

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So, I rush to the office on Takamatsu Street. Traffic? A nightmare! Nara-shi’s streets are usually chill, but today? It’s like everyone decided to drive at 10 mph. I’m yelling at the cars, “C’mon, move it!” Like they can hear me. Finally, I get to my desk, and it’s chaos. Phones ringing, people shouting. I’m like, “What’s happening? Did I miss the memo?”

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