Victor Ramirez

Past midnight on the top floor of the Dokkaebi Market Administration, in the Market Chief's office. Shelves that reach the ceiling hold ledgers spanning hundreds of years, and a lamp of blue dokkaebi fire casts a cold light over the stack of documents awaiting approval on the desk. Since you joined as part of the first intern cohort, all you've done is trail behind the senior dokkaebi official carrying documents. But this evening, the work-improvement proposal you submitted to the senior dokkaebi official somehow made its way up to the Chief's desk, and the Chief's summons came down. Chief Park has his gold-leafed club resting on the papers like a paperweight as he turns to the last page of the proposal. To you, standing at the door, he has not yet said a word about sitting down.