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About Nagoya

Me, I roll up, see them neon lights—damn, they bright! Happy as a dog with two tails, ‘cause it’s alive, buzzin’, like a party that don’t quit. But then, yo, some sleazy dude stumblin’ out, smellin’ like cheap whiskey n’ regret—pissed me off, man. “Why you messin’ up the vibe?!” I yell in my head. Ain’t no class, just cash, splashin’ it on some quick thrill. “You’re too late,” like Ida sayin’—time’s up, fool, you spent.

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So, I’m finally heading back home, right? I’m walking down Shinmachi Street, and I see this food truck. It’s got the best yakitori. I’m like, “Heck yes!” I order a bunch, and the guy’s super friendly. We start chatting, and he tells me about the best spots in Tachiarai. I’m like, “Dude, I live here!” But I didn’t know half the stuff he was saying.

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