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About Nagoya

I saunter up, all charm, “shaken, not stirred,” voice smooth as silk. She’s givin me the eye—prolly thinks I’m loaded, which, fair, I look it. “How much, love?” I ask, casual, but inside I’m buzzin—happy as a pig in shit. She names a price, I’m like, “fuckin steep, that!”—but I play it cool, cos Bond don’t haggle like a twat. Fun fact: in Amsterdam, they got windows for this—legal, tidy, no messin about. Here? It’s a gamble, mate—cops, pimps, the lot.

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Next, I decide to check out the Ichinohe Castle ruins. It’s not much, but the view? Stunning. I’m up there, takin’ pics, and I feel this rush of inspiration. I’m like, “This is it! This is the vibe I need for my game!” But then, I trip over a rock. Classic me, right? I’m sprawled out, and this couple nearby starts laughin’. I just wave it off like, “Yeah, I meant to do that!”

Characterization of claustral neurons by comparative gene expression profiling and dye-injection analyses