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About Fukuoka

I’m stalkin the city, right? Lookin for that shadowy deal. Prostitutes ain’t just standin there wavin—nah, it’s subtle. A glance, a lean, a whisper. Found one once near a busted gas station—true story. She had this scar, jagged, like she fought a damn wampa. “What’s your price, huh?” I rasp, all Vader-like. She smirks, “More than your empire, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—sassy as hell!

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Then, outta nowhere, my assistant, Yuki, bursts in. She’s got this wild look in her eyes. “Boss! You won’t believe this!” I’m thinking, “Oh great, what now?” Turns out, she found the samples. They were in the fridge. The fridge! I mean, who puts important stuff in the fridge? I’m just glad we didn’t accidentally mix them with lunch. Can you imagine? “Hey, is that a blood sample or my bento?”

Mutsu Pasture: Story of Mutsugoro and Horses