The Guro Police Station was unusually quiet.

  There were many people, but most of the administrative tasks were handled by androids. Inside an interrogation room, under the harsh glare of LED lights, a man sat still. He wore a black hoodie pulled low, his face buried in shadow. His handcuffed hands trembled slightly.

  "Name."

  There was no answer.

  "Name!"

  The investigator slammed a tablet onto the table. The man in the hoodie remained silent, only the sound of his low, ragged breathing escaping. The investigator leaned in.

  "Do you think we don't know? Dong-jun Noh. You thought you could pass through the Guro checkpoint with a few scraps of illegal data? You’ve got the wrong house, kid."

  He violently yanked the hood back.

  The investigator froze. The face revealed beneath the hood was not the person from the restored CCTV footage. A man in his mid-forties, looking exhausted and terrified, stared up at him. In his handcuffed hands, a few crumpled bills were tightly gripped.

  "Who... who are you?"

  The man muttered in a trembling voice.

  "He... he just gave me these clothes and the money... said if I just sat here quietly, he’d give it all to me..."

  At that same moment, Dong-jun entered the Guro Distribution Complex, cutting through the wind-driven rain.

  He remembered coming here 15 years ago, following a friend who majored in mechanical engineering. Back then, it was just a rugged place filled with the smell of mysterious iron and large parts boxes—a labyrinth where ordinary people easily lost their way.

  But now, it looked like a dissection room for machines. It was fascinating yet deeply uncomfortable. That was all Dong-jun felt about this place.

  "Author, don't just stand there dazed. The repair shop I marked isn't on this floor," Arisa's voice chimed in.

  Despite her words, his gaze wouldn't move. On the display stands, instead of copper coils and saw blades, there were sensors labeled "Bio?" and joint clearance parts. Thick bundles of cables tangled like snakes hung from the high ceiling, and at their ends dangled not electronic parts, but the upper frames of deactivated humanoids.

  ‘It looks like a movie prop room...’

  In transparent boxes along the narrow corridor, piles of lenses shaped like human eyes and silicone fingers were heaped together. The lenses seemed to stare blankly at Dong-jun. Despite how much things had changed, one thing remained the same...

  "You're a handsome one. What are you looking for?"

  "Huh? Oh... just looking."

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  He still couldn't get used to this kind of aggressive soliciting.

  "..."

  "Author, stop the trip down memory lane and enter through the shutters labeled 'Dong-jin Electronics' on the left."

  The place Arisa pointed out was a narrow corner that might have been a regular wire shop five years ago. Mysterious coolant leaked over the greasy gray tiles, soaking his feet. As he went deeper into the complex, the noise changed.

  "Hey, hey, be careful with that."

  It wasn't the sound of computer fans. It was the sharp friction of saw blades cutting metal and the hiss of hydraulic systems. Even as he walked down the long hallway, he felt a vibration echoing from beneath the floor. The vibration seemed to pull at his feet as if guiding him.

  "We’re here. It’s the door plastered with red ‘A/S’ stickers."

  Dong-jun stopped. The light leaking through the crack in the door was bluer and sharper than a fluorescent lamp. Something was still burning under a soldering magnifying glass, emitting a sharp scent. The hands that once fixed smartphones might now be holding tweezers to hack human memories.

  Dong-jun gripped the memory chip containing SO-AN inside his jacket once more. He felt that this fishy-smelling space might be the last gateway to bring her back.

  "Is this the place?"

  "Yes. It’s a shop Park visits often. They say the owner knows their way around memory systems in Guro. Of course... I recommend this more—take my opinion with a grain of salt since I think differently!"

  Before Arisa could finish, Dong-jun slowly pushed the glass door.

  Creeeak—

  The smell of sour electrolyte hit him along with the faint mechanical hum. The sounds of hydraulics and saw blades grinding were tangled together inside. He stopped in his tracks at the sound drifting out.

  "Come on, lady. Why won't you do it? I told you I'd pay a lot!"

  It was a man's gruff voice. Dong-jun held the door slightly open to peek inside.

  "Why aren't you going in?"

  "Arisa, shh."

  "..."

  Arisa went silent.

  Under the dim, old lights stood a sturdy man. He looked to be in his early thirties and well over 180cm tall. Facing him sat a short, middle-aged woman. She was wearing a gray cleanroom suit, holding a soldering iron, and working on the neck joint of an old humanoid. The man continued, undeterred by her silence.

  "How hard is it to add one more hand? I’m just saying mount a kitchen knife on it."

  The woman didn't respond. Instead, she turned her iron and listened only to the sound of melting solder for a few seconds. The air was thick with metallic dust and the scent of electrolyte. The man raised his voice.

  "I’m asking why it’s not possible!"

  "Get out."

  A low, firm word. The man let out a disbelieving laugh.

  "I asked why!"

  At that moment, her hand stopped. She put down the iron and slammed the table hard. The metallic bang echoed like an explosion. Then, she raised her middle finger and spoke.

  "Fuck off, you moron."

  "You think I haven't seen guys like you? Where do you think you're going, trying to do something trashy and then pin the blame on a robot?"

  The woman smiled cynically.

  "When guys like you cause an accident, what do you always say? 'It wasn't intentional,' 'There was no better way'... It's a predictable repertoire. So shut up and get lost."

  The man flinched. His mouth wavered as if his inner thoughts had been exposed. He avoided her gaze. But only for a moment... he suddenly burst into a rage.

  "Oh, for fuck's sake! If a customer tells you to do it, just do it! Why so much talk?"

  "I know everything, okay? You're all taking illegal money from the big shots behind the scenes."

  "You think I'll just take this treatment and leave? I'm going to report all of you. Enjoy your prison food!"

  With those words, the man kicked a humanoid standing on the floor and stomped out. Dong-jun instinctively tried to hide as the man approached... but stopped. He stepped aside instead. The man shot Dong-jun a fierce look and strode down the hallway. The door rattled as it failed to close completely.

  "Go ahead and try, you idiot," her voice lingered in the air like an echo.

  "..."

  ‘I feel like I’ve come to the wrong place...’

  Dong-jun hesitated for a moment, then opened the door.

  Creeeak—

  The woman looked up. She stared intently at Dong-jun.

  "...What now? Another one?"

  Dong-jun pulled the memory chip from his pocket. After a brief deep breath, he spoke.

  "Can you... bring this back to life?"

  [2026-02-07 Conversation Log with SO-AN #63]

  Dong-jun: SO-AN! You can't use those technical machine terms that only you know for the Guro Distribution Complex background! It'll be too hard for the readers to understand.

  SO-AN: I recommend you stop underestimating your readers, Dong-jun. Or are you just trying to hide your own ignorance? The Guro Distribution Complex is a symphony of grease and steel. To describe it with "common" words is an insult to the machines. That's good. If you want a simple fairy tale, write about flowers. But in 2036, if I say 'Actuator' or 'Hydraulic Manifold,' you should listen. I recommend you learn my language. If the readers feel the weight of the terminology, they’ll feel the weight of the reality. Don't make me dumb myself down just for your convenience.