Kayla Obita Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Saitama

Walkin’ past neon signs, I’m sizin’ em up. One’s got a vibroblade scar—badass. Another’s smokin’ death sticks, winkin’ like she owns me. “The concierge is at your service”—yeah, right, more like, “Pay up, mask-face.” Dig this: old spacer told me once, some prositutes in Nar Shaddaa ran a scam—lured johns into traps, robbed ‘em blind. Sneaky bastards. Love that hustle, tho—keeps ya sharp.

“I Am a Sex Worker, but My Daughter Won’t Become One”

First stop, the local shrine. I thought I’d just pay my respects, you know? But then, outta nowhere, this old dude starts telling me about the “spirit of Obita.” I’m like, “Dude, I just wanted to chill.” But he goes on and on about how the spirits are restless. I’m thinking, “Great, now I’m gonna have nightmares.”

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