Natalie Pecs Whore ❤️❤️

About Gyor

Oh, and the stench—ports reek of fish and desperation, whores included. Can’t shake it. Gets in yer bones. Hella annoyin’, but also—kinda real? Like, they’re part of the chaos, the grit. I respect that. Still, some prick’ll say, “They’re dirty!” Yeah, mate, and you’re a saint? Piss off. Sarcasm’s my shield—keeps me from carin’ too much. But damn, that Busan gal’s storm-eyes? Haunt me. Whores—they’re survivors, liars, ghosts. Like *Oldboy*, ya can’t look away. Even if it hurts.

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Then, I get a call from my boss. She’s like, “We need those results ASAP!” I’m like, “Lady, I just survived a flaming torch incident!” But I pull it together. I head to the library on Széchenyi tér. It’s quiet, and I can finally focus.

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