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About Fukuoka

Ruh-roh! I spot one – she’s leanin’ on a lamppost, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she don’t give a crap. “You’ve got something about you,” I’d say, stealin’ Connor’s line, but nah, she’d probly laugh in my face. I’m thinkin’, shit, this is wild – my tail’s waggin’, I’m hyped! Never thought I’d be this close to the action. Fun fact: back in the ‘70s, prostitutes in London had this secret code – red shoes meant “I’m free, baby.” Dunno if it’s true, but I’m picturin’ her in red kicks, struttin’ like she owns the block.

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The first thing to do is visit the PokéCenter to heal. The next destination should be the PokéMart to grab Oak's Parcel and a free DNA Splicer.

By the time I get home, I’m exhausted. My feet hurt, my clothes are damp, and I’m still buzzing from the ramen and drinks. But honestly? I wouldn’t trade this day for anything. Koga, you crazy little city, you’ve got my heart.

Longitudinal assessment of tumor development using cancer avatars derived from genetically engineered pluripotent stem cells