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About South Tangerang

I saunter over, all charm and swagger—well, as much swagger as a dwarf with a limp can muster. “How much, love?” I ask, eyein’ her like she’s a puzzle. She names a price—steep, but I’ve got coin and a thirst. “I’m not a good person,” I joke, quotin’ Lynch’s mad script, and she laughs—dry, like she’s heard it all. Makes me happy, that sound—rare as a sober day in King’s Landing. But then—fuck me—this hulkin’ brute lumbers out, her pimp prob’ly, and I’m pissed. “Who are you?” I snap, hand on my dagger. Hate these pricks—leechin’ off girls like parasites.

Introduction

First off, I hit up the local warung for breakfast. You know, the usual nasi goreng and kopi. But guess what? They ran out of rice! Like, how do you run out of rice in Indonesia? I was fuming. I mean, c’mon, it’s like a burger joint running outta buns. So, I settled for some weird pancake thing. Not the same, man. Not the same.

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