{"type":"location","location":{"title":"Shinjuku Station - Late Evening","description":"You stand in the cavernous concourse of Shinjuku Station, the evening crowd thinning as salarymen shuffle toward their trains and the neon glow of the city begins to dominate the fading daylight above. Your phone buzzes with an encrypted message from your editor: 'They say the restaurant exists. Three people this month reported meals that shouldn't have been possible to recreate. Childhood dishes. Dead relatives' recipes. Find it.'\n\nThe message contains no address, no name—just coordinates that point to somewhere in this labyrinthine neighborhood. Around you, countless passages branch in different directions: the East Exit leads toward the izakaya-packed streets of Kabukicho, the South Exit opens to the shopping districts, and smaller corridors disappear into the station's depths. The air smells of convenience store food, perfume, and something else—something faintly metallic and strange that you can't quite place.\n\nYour press credentials are in your pocket. Your notebook is blank. And you have the strangest feeling that someone has been waiting for you to arrive.","suggestedActions":["Check the encrypted message on your phone for more details","Head toward the East Exit and begin searching the Kabukicho streets","Explore the South Exit shopping district","Ask a station attendant if they've heard of the restaurant"],"conversation":"g2pv7jv6xkqu6h6ajrkm9"},"conversationLength":1,"maxFreeConversationLength":10}