Book stores have always intrigued Hansol. Perhaps it’s because he studied so much as a child, or because he spent a majority of his time in his home’s library; or maybe he liked the peaceful quite they offered, sanctuary from the busy city life. So, when he stumbles across one on his way home from an appointment, he doesn’t hesitate to investigate, and he likes what he finds. Inside, he spends a few minutes glancing around before approaching the counter. “Excuse me, sir,” he says, the ‘sir’ feeling odd as it rolls off his tongue. “Do you have any recommendations?”
He pays it no mind that most feel the need to look around, hardly knowing where to start with the books that tower over. “Yes?” The calling of ‘sir’ towards him makes him almost wonder if he had gone back in time to his reign where this was a common happening. “That entirely depends on your tastes, but yes.” As a book shop keeper he had been asked this question year in and year out and he had stacked up his fair share of recommended books in most genres out there.