The Reality Of DJ Dal-gu.

“Pffft… Thud.”

Village Bus 402, which had been speeding through the wasteland, finally came to a halt with a heavy sigh. White steam rose from the gaps in the hood, and the overheated tires gave off a burning smell as they scorched the dirt on the ground.

Destination coordinates: N 35.8, E 128.6. It was deep inside a forest within a basin terrain called “Daegu” 600 years ago.

“We have… arrived. 50 meters ahead,” Lucas muttered from the driver’s seat, resting his head on the steering wheel. However, the one who suffered the most was someone else.

Sitting upright in the back seat, Unit 001 Nohana had lost focus in her eyes, her mouth half open. The thick cable connected to her back dropped to the floor with a thud.

“System warning: Main core remaining power at 12%. Discharge imminent. Loss of servomotor control. I… just want to… lie down…”

It was an extremely human-like groan, hard to believe it came from a state-of-the-art android. Over the past two hours, her power had been drained to the rhythm of trot music, turning her into a human power generator.

“You worked hard, Hana. Take a rest in the bus.”

Han-gyeol patted Unit 001’s shoulder—carefully avoiding the spot with the gum mark—and opened the bus door to step outside.

“Now, let’s see. Where is our DJ Dal-gu?”

The Office 402 crew expected a grand sight. If it was a powerful transmitter tower broadcasting radio waves 80 km away, they imagined a structure at least as tall as a skyscraper with a flashing antenna.

However, when they pushed through the bushes and reached the designated coordinates, only silence greeted them.

“Huh? The coordinates point right here… but there’s nothing?” Paul looked around. Far from a giant tower, there were only crumbling brick walls and overgrown weeds.

“Hey, look closely. It’s right over there.”

Where Han-gyeol pointed, a very old and rusty concrete utility pole stood precariously, wrapped so tightly in vines that its shape was barely recognizable.

A crumpled tin speaker box hung at the top of the utility pole, and beside it, a piece of a solar panel with a bird’s nest was barely holding on.

“Crackle… Whirrr… This is… Dalgubeol… Click… Clear…”

A mosquito-like static noise leaked from the speaker hanging on the pole.

Lucas stood with his mouth wide open.

“Is… is this pile of scrap metal Mr. Dal-gu? The owner of that grand voice was… just a utility pole?”

It was a shocking twist. DJ Dal-gu was not a state-of-the-art AI tower. 600 years ago, a makeshift relay station set up for village broadcasts had miraculously survived, talking to itself in a broken state.

Chewing his gum, Han-gyeol stepped up to the utility pole. 600 years of time clung to the concrete pillar like moss, with only faint traces of scribbles left by someone with a marker.

“What’s this, making me feel bad for you? Have you been doing this all by yourself for 600 years?”

When Han-gyeol tapped the utility pole, the speaker let out a cracked squeak as if startled.

“…Crackle! …2:00 PM… It’s not… raining… The sun… is rising…”

The rambling voice of the old machine broke the forest’s silence. It wasn’t grand, nor was it magnificent. A broken friend was simply standing there, stubbornly surviving and trying its best to do its job.

“Initiating diagnosis.”

Having regained her senses, Unit 001 Nohana stumbled over and plugged a diagnostic cable into the pole’s terminal box. The terminal box lid was already broken from rust, and the inside was covered in cobwebs.

“Diagnostic results: Hardware deterioration at 98%. Main processor clock at 4MHz, calculator level. Stuck in an infinite loop of data from May 20, 2250, due to a timestamp error. The humidity sensor is blocked by a bird’s nest.”

Unit 001 let out a sigh—a cooling fan sound.

“A total disaster. Scrapping it and rebuilding would be more efficient. Talking to a piece of junk like this is a disgrace to the fleet.”

Yet her hands moved differently from her words. She pulled out precision tweezers from her toolbox and began carefully removing dust from the circuit board. While complaining about efficiency, it was an engineer’s instinct to save a dying machine.

Just then, a voice came from the speaker again.

“…Can you… hear me? …Is anyone… there?”

It was not a broadcast line. Mixed in with system error logs, it was a standby monologue the machine asked itself.

Han-gyeol spat out his gum and rolled up his sleeves.

“Hey, this won’t do. If we leave him like this, he looks so pathetic I’ll have nightmares.”

“Boss? What are you planning to do?”

“Tuning. We’ll clean him up and make him shine, turning this pal into the biggest socialite in this area.”

Han-gyeol gestured toward the bus.

“Lucas! Tear off the spare woofer speaker from the bus! Get the one with the highest output! Paul! Clear all the surrounding weeds and plant flowers! Make a stage! Caleb! Tune the frequency. Clear out all the static!”

“Modifying an unauthorized facility is explicitly illegal!” Unit 001 shouted reflexively, but Han-gyeol grinned and tossed her a screwdriver.

“It’s not illegal. This is… an emergency relief effort. A humanitarian repair to save a neighbor on the verge of dying alone. You handle the wiring. You’re the most thorough.”

Holding the screwdriver, Unit 001 stood blankly for a moment before grumbling and climbing onto the utility pole.

“Recording this. Disguising this operation as a communications network restoration exercise. And… the wiring organization is a mess. I will re-lay it perfectly according to my standards.”

The full-scale makeover, DJ Dal-gu edition, began.

The work proceeded quickly, drastically, and romantically.

Lucas tore out the entire audio system from Village Bus 402.

“This is the legendary woofer used in nightclubs 600 years ago! Installing this will make even the squirrels within a 10km radius dance!”

He removed the rusty speaker and welded a shiny, large speaker unit to the top of the utility pole.

Paul cleaned up around the pole. Instead of clearing away the wildly grown vines, he braided them neatly to create decorative garlands for the pole. He then installed LED bulbs taken from the bus headlights between the vines.

“Beauty… comes from lighting. When night falls, this place will become a beacon in the forest.”

Caleb connected to the pole’s old AI and worked on the software.

“Memory optimization complete. Unnecessary weather data deleted. Instead… I set the request playlist Boss hacked and put in during Episode 80 as top priority.”

Finally, Han-gyeol connected a keyboard and edited DJ Dal-gu’s intro line.

Original: “This is the Dalgubeol Weather Observatory… Clear today as well…”

Modified: “Ah- Ah-. Mic test. This is Dalgubeol… Raise your energy! Make some noise!”

Around sunset, all work was complete. The rusty utility pole was nowhere to be seen. In its place stood a majestic cyberpunk totem armed with various wires, LEDs, and a giant speaker. Thanks to the special oil Lucas applied as a finish, the pole shone with a glitter reminiscent of a disco ball under the setting sun.

“Ready? Flipping the switch.”

Han-gyeol grabbed the main power lever. Everyone held their breath. Even Unit 001 grew nervous, her hands wet—a condensation phenomenon.

“Three, two, one… On!”

Thump—! The bass woofer roared, vibrating the entire forest. Birds flew up in surprise, and trees dropped their leaves.

From the speaker, a grand, clean voice without a single shred of static burst out:

“Yo! This is the hot spot of 2851! It’s DJ Dal-gu! Today’s weather? Who cares! Just party! Here comes the first song!”

Music exploded. It was neither the waltz of Episode 76 nor the trot of Episode 81. It was electronic funk from 600 years ago, handpicked by Caleb.

Thump- tsch- tach! Thump- tsch- tach!

An intense beat filled the forest ruins. The LED lights installed by Paul flashed to the beat, pouring out psychedelic illumination.

“Waaah! Big bro Dal-gu! You’re so alive!”

Lucas was the first to run out and dance. He shook an oil can while doing breakdancing—popping his joints. Paul used plant branches in both hands as glow sticks, waving them around. Caleb counted the beat with numbers beside the speaker.

Butterfly the cat climbed onto the woofer speaker, puffing its fur as it enjoyed the vibration with its whole body.

Sitting on the bus hood, Han-gyeol drank instant mix coffee while watching the scene. In a ruined city, deep in an empty forest, a wild party held among machines. Could there be a more useless, yet more perfect moment than this?

“How is it, Hana? The wiring you fixed has killer performance, right?”

Unit 001 Nohana was sitting under the shade of a tree. Her battery wasn’t fully charged yet, but she was tapping her toes to the rhythm.

“Admitted. Output efficiency increased by 400%. Acoustic transmission coefficient optimization complete. However…”

She smiled faintly. It was a very subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth, but Han-gyeol didn’t miss it.

“…The song selection sense is a bit outdated. I will update it next time.”

The party continued late into the night. DJ Dal-gu poured out all the chatter saved up for 600 years. Tossing aside weather talk, he rapped out trivial lines like, “A wild boar just passed by,” and “WANTED: The squirrel that chewed my wire.”

It was time for the bus to leave. Han-gyeol pulled out a marker and left a guestbook entry at the bottom of the utility pole, where it was most visible:

2851.05.20. Bureau Office 402 crew was here. Dal-gu, don’t shrink back, keep talking. We are listening. P.S. The electricity bill is billed to the Jupiter Fleet.

“Let’s go! Time to go home and sleep!”

Village Bus 402 started its engine again. Unit 001 connected the cable once more, but her expression was much lighter this time.

Even as the bus moved away, the forest utility pole did not turn off. Flashing LED lights and exciting beats illuminated the darkness. It was no longer an abandoned ruin. It was the hottest, least lonely secret base of machines on Earth in 2851.

Above the night sky, a drone from the Jupiter Fleet passed by, but the club in the forest was hidden by tree leaves and remained unseen. Only the sound of music spread far and wide in the wind.