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About Kobe

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya start? Down by Flea Bottom, stinks like a dead hog, but that’s where they lurk. Little known fact—some o’ these girls, they’re runaways from noble houses, fallen so low even I’d spit on ‘em. Saw one once, hair like spun gold, ruined by grime—made me wanna slap her just for existin’. “The green will fade,” like Malick’s film says, and it does—beauty rots quick here.

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So, I head over to the police station on Kōen-dōri. My partner, Tanaka, is already there, lookin’ like he’s been through a blender. He’s like, “You won’t believe this.” I’m like, “Try me.” Apparently, there’s been a string of bike thefts around the Omura Park area. I mean, c’mon! Who steals bikes in broad daylight?

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