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About Busan

Oi, you lot, gather round! Me, Cersei Lannister, cold as ice, reckon I’ll spill on brothels today. Got this librarian gig, yeah? Shelves stuffed, but my mind’s on filthier things. Brothels—hah! Dens of sin, sticky floors, cheap wine. Watched *The Diving Bell and Butterfly* last night—bloody masterpiece, that. Jean-Dominique trapped in his skull, blinking out tales. Reminds me of them whores, locked in flesh, selling it off. “I’m still alive,” he’d blink. They’re alive too, but gods, what a life.

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But then, outta nowhere, my coworker, Ji-hoon, bursts in. He’s all flustered, like he just ran a marathon. Turns out, there’s a leak in the basement. Great. Just what we need. So, we grab some buckets and head down. The smell down there? Ugh, like a mix of mold and regret.

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