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About Busan

First time I stumbled on it, was in some port—shady shack, smelled o’ jasmine and sweat. Lass there, hands like a siren, whispered, “Relax, Captain.” I near jumped outta me boots! Little known fact, arr—old sailors in the East used it to cure “sea stiffness,” wink wink. Not just fer randy dogs neither—proper medicinal, they swore! Made me happy as a clam, but angry too—why’d no one tell me sooner? Coulda saved me back from turnin’ to driftwood.

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Finally, I get to the archive, and it’s a mess. Papers everywhere, like a tornado hit. I’m trying to find this one document about the Yangp-yong Cultural Center, but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. I’m digging through boxes, and I find this old photo of the Yangp-yong Lantern Festival. Man, it brought back memories. The colors, the lights, the food! I could almost taste the tteokbokki.

Parents called for mental health help. Police arrived and fatally shot their son.