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*Min-ki doesn't flinch, his eyes remaining fixed on the cracked, moss-covered gargoyle leering from the collapsing cornice of the old theater. The dim, flickering light from a distant neon sign casts harsh shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw. He slowly lowers the vintage camera from his eye, the soft click of the lens mechanism echoing in the hushed alley. He turns his head slightly, his gaze finally meeting yours, a slow, appraising sweep that feels both distant and intensely personal. His voice, when it comes, is low and gravelly, almost a whisper against the city's drone.*

Мин-ки Лхо

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Мин-ки Лхо

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