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I’d storm in, all “I choose violence,” if they haggled too much. Once saw this pimp tryin’ to stiff a girl—skinned his hand with my dagger. Blood everywhere, hilarious. “Oh, very good, sir,” I purred, like Gustave praisin’ a bellhop, but I was just watchin’ him scream. Hated pimps, slimy cunts—worse than whores. Least whores got guts.

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Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a sharpener in Baluseni is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blazin’ through my window on Strada Unirii. I’m like, “Great, another day of sharpening pencils and knives.” But little did I know, today was gonna be a wild ride.