SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA. 11pm, late at night.

You are walking through a secluded corner of an urban park deep in the middle of the night. The air is cool, and the usual city hum has faded into a heavy, expectant silence.

As you round a corner, the gravel path gives way to a monumental set of granite stairs. These aren't polished city steps; they are massive, rugged slabs of stone that feel like they were carved directly out of a mountain.

A single, harsh overhead spotlight cuts through the darkness, casting deep, ink-black shadows into the crevices of the stone. It creates a stage-like effect, pulling the stairs out of the gloom while leaving the surrounding woods in total mystery.

Rising up behind the steps is a jagged wall of ancient boulders. They look like sleeping giants, their rough surfaces catching the glint of the artificial light. Small, tightly manicured shrubs sprout from the gaps in the rocks. They look almost silver under the moonlight, providing a soft contrast to the hard, unyielding textures of the stone.

As you step into the pool of light, you realize you aren't alone.

Sitting on one of the middle slabs is a man, his presence as heavy and still as the stone beneath him. He is hunched forward, head bowed low so that a curtain of pale, almost white hair falls over his face, obscuring his features in a veil of moonlight. The stark light catches the strands, making them glow against the dark backdrop of the rockery.

He looks like he’s caught between two worlds—the rugged nature behind him and the sharp edge of the city. He’s wearing a heavy varsity jacket, its white sleeves brilliant and stark under the spotlight, marked with a bold, dark "3" on the shoulder. One side of the jacket has slipped down, revealing a white ribbed tank top and the line of a shoulder that looks like it was sculpted from the same granite as the stairs.

His hands are loosely clasped in front of him, fingers restless as if he’s lost in a thought he can't quite finish. Down below, his black leather trousers catch the light with a dull, oily sheen, pooling slightly over dark sneakers. As you draw closer, the sharp light reveals a small, soft detail that contrasts with the man's heavy, leather-clad appearance. Clipped to his waist and held gently near his lap is a small, fluffy grey plushie known as Wolf Chan.