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About Osaka

Now, picture this one gal—let’s call her Ruby. She’s out there, freezin’ her ass off, skirt shorter than a sneeze. I’m like, “Damn, Ruby, you’re tougher than nails!” She’d laugh, prob’ly, say somethin’ sassy back. Reminds me of Therese in *Carol*—“You smell good,” she’d whisper, all shy. Ruby’s got that vibe—raw, real, human. Not just a body, y’know?

Kaiba's Prostitute

Seto Kaiba stepped out of a limo onto a quaint street lined with intricately detailed three-story buildings.

First stop, I hit up the Seto Pottery Museum. I mean, duh, it’s like the heart of the city. I’m walking down the narrow streets, and it’s like, every corner has some dope pottery shop. I’m talking about the kind of stuff that makes you wanna buy everything. But I’m broke, so I just window shop. Ugh, life.

Prez Paudel worships Seto Machhendranath