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About Saitama

I roll up, tires screechin’, grin wide—*“Here’s Johnny!”* She don’t flinch, just smirks. “Lost, trucker?” she says, voice like gravel. I laugh, “Nah, babe, just huntin’ trouble!” See, findin’ a prostitute ain’t just point A to point B—it’s a damn art. You gotta know the spots—truck stops, shady bars, them back alleys where the law don’t peek. Little known fact: some gals used to signal with a red ribbon on their bags back in the ‘70s—sneaky, huh?

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Situated within an hour’s commute from Tokyo via the Aqua Line and easily accessible from both Haneda and Narita airports, Kisarazu offers scenic and cultural experiences only found in Missing: prostitute.

I grab my radio and start broadcasting. “Yo, Kisarazu! We got a feline emergency!” I’m half-laughing, half-pulling my hair out. The whole city’s tuning in, and I can hear people chuckling. But then, I get a call from the fire department. They’re on it! I’m like, “Great, let’s save the kitty!”

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