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Got me thinkin’, tho—*scratches head*—she’s free, ain’t she? No master, no chains, just her and the night. Kinda jealous, me. *whines* Me precious freedom’s stuck in the muck with them swine. But her? She’s dancin’ with shadows. Saw her once kick a drunk square in the jewels—bam!—he howled like a banshee! *giggles* “It’s not my fault,” she hissed, echoin’ Lucrecia again. Loved that, I did—spunk, y’know?

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Yo, let me add: My fav eats, like the butcher’s corner near Gagarina Street. Crazy, old-school charm. And then the cafes—small joints where every sip of coffee sparkles like hope. I sometimes wander near Antonova Lane. Trust me, surprises lurk around every bend.

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