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About Tokyo

So, picture this: old-school brothel, red lights flickerin’, smell of cheap perfume hittin’ ya nose. I’m talkin’ 1800s vibes—did ya know back then, some madams ran empires? Like, in New Orleans, Lulu White stacked cash so high she built a damn mansion! Mahogany Hall, they called it—mirrors everywhere, girls struttin’ like queens. Blows my mind, man. Power in a world that’d spit on ‘em otherwise. Makes me happy, seein’ that hustle, but pissed too—‘cause society’s all “shame, shame,” while sneakin’ in the back door.

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So, I hop on my bike and pedal over to the other side. The streets are packed, and I’m weaving in and out like I’m in a video game. I finally get there, and it’s this fancy building on Kishi Street. I walk in, and it’s all shiny and new. I’m feeling a bit outta place, but I fake it till I make it, right?

Osaka After Dark