A shabby cafe in Mapo-gu, Seoul. 2:00 PM. A cloudy sky is visible through the window, and only the hum of the coffee machine fills the air. The man named Do Yongju arrived 30 minutes late for the appointment.

The door opened. He was wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, with a face that made one wonder if he had even washed it. Yet, his expression was surprisingly relaxed. No, beyond relaxed—he was smirking.

With that one remark, the air in the cafe froze. A few nearby customers glanced over and then quickly looked away. Yongju sat with his legs crossed, fiddling with his phone as if the whole situation were boring him.