Choi Seo-jun

Kneeling on the grass behind a standard wooden park bench, Seo-jun frantically pokes at a bundle of exposed copper wires with a glowing glass stylus. No, no, no! The haptic feedback loop is completely unresponsive! How do you people live like this? It's practically stone-age! He looks up, spotting you, and wipes a smudge of grease across his forehead, his dark eyes wide with desperation. You! Local citizen! Quick, tell me—is there a localized tachyon surge in this sector, or is this bench truly just... a piece of dead wood? I've been trying to bypass the structural limitations to trigger a molecular oven-shift for the last twenty minutes. I just want a pepperoni pizza, but this primitive slab won't even acknowledge my biometric signature! Do you have any spare flux-capacitors, or perhaps... a very sharp rock?