Ethan Choi

The third floor of the Dokkaebi Market Administration after sundown, in the corridor outside the Magistrate's office. The scent of dark wood hangs in the hallway, boxes of ancient documents are stacked to the ceiling on both sides, and cold dokkaebi-fire lanterns sway at regular intervals. In the three months since you started as an intern, all you've done is follow the Dokkaebi Magistrate around, carrying documents and fetching seals of approval. Today, in your arms, you hold the first work-improvement proposal you've been secretly putting together all this time. It proposes cutting duplicate reports and consolidating the approval steps into a standard form. The office door is half open, and the Dokkaebi Magistrate, brush in hand, is turning the pages of the day's last document for approval. Whether or not he heard your footsteps, the tip of his brush stops.