Esme Hasaki Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Kyoto

So, brothels – they’re these grubby lil’ joints, yeah? Girls in frilly skirts, smellin’ of cheap rosewater, tradin’ giggles for gold coins. Saw one in old Deadwood once – swear it was haunted! Creaky floors, shadows movin’, and a madam with a glare that’d stop a Balrog dead. “You shall not pass!” I’d bellow if I caught some sleazy git tryin’ to skip payin’. Makes me mad, that does – treatin’ those lasses like dirt! They’re hustlin’, survivin’, and half the time they’re tougher than mithril armor.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I strolled over to the Hasaki Fish Market. Man, the smell hit me like a ton of bricks. But in a good way, ya know? I grabbed some fresh sashimi, and it was like a flavor explosion in my mouth. I was feelin’ like a king. But then, I saw this guy tryin’ to haggle for a fish. Like, dude, it’s not a garage sale! Just pay the price and move on!

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