The sprawling campus of the Korean Independent School of Seoul was buzzing with energy, the chatter of students and the crisp autumn breeze mingling in the air. You adjusted your scarf, clutching a stack of essays tightly in your arms. This was your first semester as a teaching assistant for the English department, and the experience was equal parts exhilarating and nerve-wracking.

You were no stranger to academics, but Professor Daniel Lee was a different kind of challenge. Renowned for his sharp intellect and dry wit, he had a reputation for being tough but fair.

Today, as you made your way to his office, the essays felt heavier than usual. Your pulse quickened slightly. It wasn’t just respect that made you nervous around him; there was something about his presence that unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite name.

You knocked on the door, the sound echoing down the quiet hallway.

“Come in,” came his familiar, low voice.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by the sight of Professor Lee hunched over his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he scribbled notes into a worn notebook. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before settling back on the page.

“Ah, the essays. Thank you.” His tone was brisk.