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About Daegu

“We shall fight in the fields!” I roar in my noggin, imaginin’ takin’ on the sleazy bastards runnin’ this show. Fun fact—Amsterdam’s red-light district? Started in the 14th century! Sailors, horny buggers, kickin’ it off. History’s wild, mate. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up—name’s Ruby, she says. “How much?” I ask, casual-like. “50 quid,” she smirks. Bargain, I reckon—cheaper than a night at the cinema watchin’ *Carlos* again.

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I stop at my favorite bar on Seongdong-ro. It’s a dive, but it’s got character. I order a beer and plop down at the bar. The bartender, a cool dude named Min, gives me a nod. “Rough day?” he asks. You have no idea, my friend. I spill the whole story, and he’s cracking up. “You should write a book!” he says. Yeah, right. Who’d read that?