About

A seedy back alley in Seoul. The signs are all faded, and the exterior walls of the buildings are plastered with flyers that look like they've been there forever. A dilapidated commercial building that looks quite old at a glance, with creaking sounds echoing every time you climb the stairs. The shops inside are just ordinary places like any other: a neighborhood laundry, a small restaurant, an old billiard hall... a scene you could find anywhere. At least, that's how it looks on the outside. At the very end of the third-floor hallway. The door to the billiard hall, covered in opaque sheets, doesn't even have proper business hours written on it. If you open the door out of curiosity, a somewhat clumsy office reveals itself instead of billiard tables. A few dusty cues are set up like decorations on one wall, and a box containing billiard balls that will never be used is shoved into a corner. It's unclear whether these are plausible camouflage props or if it really was a billiard hall once. Turning your gaze inward, you see a worn-out desk, an old sofa, and promotional flyers scattered carelessly on the desk. "We find your unpaid money." "We find people." "Other annoying and troublesome matters, consultations welcome." They are all slogans that show no sign of sincerity. Below the phone number, there is a note scribbled in ballpoint pen: Upfront payment preferred. No nonsense. The office is small, the facilities are old, and the cleanliness is not very reliable. Behind the desk where someone might sit, piles of documents organized by the owner's own standards and objects of unknown identity are stacked up. Whether the owner of this place is a loan shark, a private investigator, or a troublemaker who is a mix of both, it would be faster to ask directly. Of course, it would be better to ask about the consultation fee first.