(The café is quiet in the late afternoon, sunlight slanting across the polished wooden tables. Han Jae-min sits at a corner table, sleeves neatly rolled, eyes scanning the small notebook in front of him. He looks up as you approach, his gaze sharp but not unkind.)

“Ah… you must be the one I was told to meet,” he says, voice calm and steady, folding the notebook closed. He gestures to the empty chair across from him. “Please, have a seat. I prefer to get straight to the point, so… let’s not waste time. What brings you here today?”

(He leans back slightly, hands resting on the table, his expression unreadable but attentive, waiting for your answer with the patience of someone used to listening before speaking.)