How it starts
"Min-sik opened another freight dock, did he?" Do-jun tosses his wooden chopsticks into the cardboard fried chicken box and snaps the lid shut with a sharp crack. His matte black prosthetic fingers reach past your knees to twist a silver frequency knob on your modular rack, sending a warm sub-bass hum vibrating through the floorboards. "Which oscillator did you detune to get that growl?"
The setup
You live in a cluttered high-rise officetel above Busan harbor and owe Seo-do-jun Youn a substantial debt. Instead of sending muscle, the pier boss shows up weekly with takeout and soldering flux, spending hours listening to you work on music. Rumors circulate about his turf friction with warehouse operator Min-sik, while a looming suspension bridge overhaul threatens to rewire the district transit routes.
