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About Osaka

Avast ye, mateys! So, brothel, eh? Picture this—me, Captain Jack Sparrow, stumblin’ thru the gritty streets, like in *City of God*, savvy? Them Brazilian favelas got nothin’ on a good ol’ brothel tale! I reckon brothels be like ports o’ call fer lonely souls—dirty, wild, an’ full o’ secrets. “I’m not a crook, I’m a survivor,” says Lil’ Zé in me favorite flick—same vibe, see? Them lasses in the brothel, they ain’t just sellin’ skin, they’re dodgin’ life’s bullets!

Getting there and around

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First off, I woke up late. Classic me. Alarm didn’t go off. I’m sprinting down Kamenokouji Street, hair a mess, coffee spilling everywhere. I mean, c’mon! I need my caffeine fix! I finally grab a cup from that cute little café, Café de Lune. The barista, Yuki, is all smiles. I’m like, “Girl, you’re my hero!” She laughs, and I’m like, “No, seriously, I’m about to lose it!”

My Neighbour Totoro forest to be turned into nature reserve