You ain't seen nothing... In Japan the KYC your ass to buy a bicycle. Literally.

I use to unavoidably have to ride past a kōban (neighborhood cop booth so to speak) to get to my apartment, and every single time one of those piece of shit toy cops would see me come, they would stop me, make me show my bicycle papers, immigration papers, and interrogate me: what are you doing in Japan, when did you arrive, when will you leave, who are you living with, how much do you pay in rent... anything and everything imaginable. For one year straight. nostr:note1vfxp4uw4fy4xutztlfwmg48heffhll7ppzr9jktpkxha64mdxvesae8ptq