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About Nagoya

*Heavy breathing* I find this task… intriguing. Slow, ominous tone, “I am your father.” Listen up, kid—let’s talk findin’ a prostitute. Picture this: dark streets, neon flickerin’ like a damn saber. Reminds me of *Oldboy*—that twisted flick I love. “In a world of betrayal,” right? That’s the vibe. You’re huntin’ someone who’s seen it all. Me? I’d scope the shadows, feel the Force—nah, just kiddin’, I’d use my eyes.

Red Light District in Tokyo

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Then I hit up the streets. Oh man, the streets! You got the bustling Nishi-Kasai area, where all the shops are. I’m walkin’ down Nishi-Kasai 3-chome, and I see this little ramen joint. I’m like, “Yesss, ramen time!” I order the tonkotsu, and it’s like heaven in a bowl. I’m slurpin’ it up, and this old dude next to me starts chatting. He’s like, “You know, the secret is in the broth.” I’m like, “Yeah, no kidding, Sherlock.” But I nod, ‘cause he’s old and wise, or whatever.

Biliary atresia blood markers augur post-Kasai liver transplant need