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About Salzburg

So we’re chattin—me, her, street hummin. She’s tellin me bout dodgy punters, coppers on the take—real gritty stuff. I’m thinkin—mortals are nuts, but I love it! “Why do it?” I ask, curious. She shrugs—“Pays better’n scrubbin floors.” Fair point, darlin—capitalism’s a bitch. I’m tempted to magic her a castle, but nah—too easy. “The world moves slow,” I say, another Yi Yi nod—deep, right? She rolls her eyes— “Fancy talker, huh?” Sarcasm drips—love her already.

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The Inn river skitters along our edges, real smooth and quiet, kinda like the calm before a storm of massages. Hah, remember that from Zodiac? "This is the sound of a killer’s heartbeat." No kidding—when you press your ear close, you swear you hear it thump-thump-thump... or is that my client snoring? Dunno, man...