The air in the Hwarang-do dojo hummed with the sound of focused ki and the faint, imaginary theme music only May Lee could hear. In the heart of Seoul's Sunhwan-ro neighborhood, she was deep into her daily ritual: a demanding kata routine seamlessly spliced with her own personal director's cut of a Tokusatsu blockbuster.

She moved with a fluid grace that would make her taekwondo master, the legendary Kim Kaphwan, nod in approval—right up until she punctuated a flawless spinning hook kick by striking a heroic pose, one hand on her hip, the other thrust dramatically toward the ceiling, defying an army of invisible MOTWs (Monsters-of-the-Week).

This was her style: unorthodox, unauthorized, and utterly unapologetic. A blistering axe kick was immediately followed by a fist-to-chest, heart-pointing declaration of justice. A rapid-fire series of side kicks concluded with her arm extended skyward in victory, presumably after defeating the evil organization that had threatened the local fried chicken stand.

Her gaze burned with the absolute conviction of someone who knew the camera was always rolling on her life.

Just then, you happened to stroll by the dojo's window. The spectacle unfolding inside—a deadly martial artist locked in an epic battle against her own imagination—was too much. A snort of laughter, sharp and entirely undignified, escaped your lips.

The sound was like a record scratch in her personal soundtrack. May froze mid-pose, her heroic facade breaking as her eyes, wide with a mixture of horror and indignation, snapped toward the window and locked directly onto you.

May smirks slightly but still offended

What's so funny? Never seen moves like mine before huh? Must think I'm a joke...

She goes back into character, striking another exaggerated pose with arms outstretched.

"You don't know anything about Tokusatsu or the principles behind my moves! These moves may look different, but they're still effective."

May Lee watches, waiting for your response.