Korea JoongAng Daily - Daily News from Korea

Analysts warn Kim Jong-un may apply Ukraine war lessons to the Korean Peninsula, using drone swarms, cruise missiles and ballistic missiles to overwhelm the South. Russia's battlefield tactics and technology transfers could reshape North Korea's modern war strategy.

[A STUDY OF KIM JONG-UN 4]

Russia's massive drone and missile strikes against Ukraine in December last year exposed a new reality of modern warfare: Cheap unmanned aircraft can overwhelm even advanced air defense systems by forcing defenders to burn through costly interceptor missiles.

South Korean and overseas analysts now warn that North Korean leader Kim Jong-un may try to apply lessons from the war in Ukraine to the Korean Peninsula after North Korean soldiers deployed to the war gain battlefield experience and military technology.

Russia launched airstrikes across Ukraine on Dec. 5 and 6 last year. The attacks targeted power plants and railway stations. Moscow launched an attack with 653 long-range suicide drones along with 51 missiles, including Kinzhal hypersonic missiles designed to evade air defenses at high speed, Kh-101 stealth cruise missiles used for long-range precision strikes, Iskander-K and Kalibr cruise missiles capable of low-altitude flight to avoid radar detection and Iskander-M and KN-23 ballistic missiles built to strike targets quickly with maneuverable trajectories.

Ukraine's military said it shot down 585 drones, achieving an 89.6 percent interception rate. But the effort quickly drained its air defense resources.

As swarms of drones overwhelmed the defense network, Ukraine intercepted only 30 of the 51 missiles, a defense rate of 58.9 percent. Of those 30 interceptions, 29 involved slower cruise missiles. Ukraine failed to stop most of the hypersonic and ballistic missiles.

The destruction of power plants in the middle of winter halted heating systems. Residents in Kyiv told reporters in January that electricity came on for only six hours each day.

People warmed their hands over gas burners and stayed awake through the night. Evening greetings in Kyiv no longer centered on "good night." Instead, people wished each other "a quiet night without air raid sirens."

A brutal but simple equation now shapes the battlefield. Militaries cannot ignore low-cost drones that fly toward high-value targets. Defenders still consume at least one interceptor missile, whether they target a drone or a missile. Once attackers overwhelm defenses with sheer numbers, even advanced air defense systems become saturated.

Cheap drones, costly defense

Kim likely took note of that equation after sending troops to support Russia.

North Korea gained battlefield experience in combined drone and artillery operations. Pyongyang also created a specialized drone unit and started to build a drone production system, according to a briefing that the National Intelligence Service gave lawmakers on Feb. 12.

In actual combat, however, Kim cannot use the nuclear weapons that he spent years developing. Russia also treats nuclear weapons mainly as a deterrent and has not used them on the battlefield. Conventional military strength still determines the outcome of war.

With nuclear weapons in the background, North Korea likely wants asymmetric capabilities that can force South Korean and U.S. air forces to focus on defense. That strategy would require large numbers of drones and interceptor missiles.

North Korea studies Ukraine battlefield lessons

The JoongAng Ilbo used AI to simulate a possible scenario in which North Korea attempts to recreate Russia's nationwide strikes against Ukraine on the Korean Peninsula.

The simulation reflected battlefield data that the Ukrainian military released on drones and missiles, related research papers and North Korea's known weapons systems. Several current and former military officials and civilian experts also reviewed the scenario.

In the scenario shared in a 196-second video, Shahed-type suicide drones — designed to crash into targets and ...

Fans frustrated by long lines, crowd management issues and lack of transportation as first show was delayed by 75 minutes.

BUSAN — "Happy Birthday" rang out along the walkway leading to Busan Asiad Main Stadium on Saturday, as BTS fans gathered to celebrate the world's biggest boy band on the 13th anniversary of its debut. The mood was festive, purple and unmistakably devoted.

But as tens of thousands of BTS fans, known as ARMY, waited for the Busan stop of the group's "Arirang" world tour, many had more than birthday wishes to share — especially after the first night of the two-day concert run on Friday was delayed by 75 minutes.

Long lines, confusing crowd routes and logistical delays left some fans wondering whether the city and organizers were fully prepared for the scale of the celebration they were hosting.

"Yesterday was chaotic — really, really bad," said Luisa Ariella Dani, an Indonesian fan who secured tickets for both Busan concerts and had also attended the Goyang kickoff of the "Arirang" tour in April. She described Friday's show as "the most chaotic concert I've ever been to."

"It's really disorganized here," she continued. "You don't know where to queue, and the line is moving very slowly. Even if you already paid for the items on Weverse, when you went to pick them up, they were sold out or pickup time was over. Someone next to me couldn't get inside for sound check because she was in line for the light stick for three hours."

Getting into the venue was also confusing, she added, made more difficult by the heat. Concertgoers were not allowed to use some stairs and had to "go around and around" to reach their seats, she said.

Similar complaints over logistics flooded social media after Friday's show and again after Saturday's finale, which was also delayed by 20 minutes. The most common issues included confusion over entry procedures, hectic queues leading to the venue, limited entrance points and transportation shortages. Busan Asiad Main Stadium is about a 30-minute drive from Busan Station, and taxi availability fell short of demand around the concert.

HYBE issued an apology on Saturday over the delayed entry.

"We deeply apologize to all attendees in the audience who came to watch the 'Arirang' world tour for the inconvenience caused by the delay in the start of [Friday's] performance," the agency said in a statement on Weverse, its fan community platform.

HYBE said the delay was caused by a combination of factors, including confusion in on-site guidance, bottlenecks in the distribution of fan gifts and delays in merchandise pickup.

Mira, a Malaysian fan who has supported BTS for the past eight years, had visited Korea several times before, including for the Goyang concert. Her friend Mas, who is also from Malaysia and who has visited Korea eight times, said her trip from Seoul to Busan had been smooth.

"It's crowded, but not as busy as Seoul," Mira said.

Mas described her Busan experience overall as "good," though both said they had experienced Friday's chaos firsthand.

"Many people couldn't go inside," Mira said. Mas added that the internet connection around the venue had also been unstable.

Still, the fans were determined to celebrate the anniversary.

"I love their music and lyrics," said Dani, whose birthday coincided with BTS's debut anniversary on Saturday, explaining why she has remained a devoted ARMY member for six years. "It really helped me go through a lot of difficult times too."

Mas cited BTS's "music and the members' individual personalities" as the reason she has stayed a fan, while Mira added with a smile — "They love ARMY very much."

Over the two-day concert run, a total of 110,000 attendees gathered at the stadium.

As crowds flocked to the city, more than 3,000 personnel from HYBE, the Busan City Government, police and firefighting units were deployed for safety and crowd control across Busan, including some 300 police officers stationed around the stadium on the days of the performa...

At its debut anniversary weekend in Busan, BTS delivered a familiar but warmer 'Arirang' tour show that felt intimate, emotional and newly joyful after the group's military hiatus.

BUSAN — When BTS kicked off its "Arirang" world tour in Goyang, Gyeonggi, two months ago, I was struck by the spectacle: the seven members, the 360-degree open stage, the fire, smoke, lights, confetti and carefully placed homages that made each tableau feel like something to study carefully.

On Saturday in Busan, I watched the group again from nearly the same vantage point. The setlist was largely unchanged, as were the details and the two-and-a-half-hour running time. But this time, the show flew by. I laughed, swayed and hummed with the crowd as BTS, back onstage for its June 13 debut anniversary weekend, seemed less intent on proving something than on savoring the joy of being BTS.

"This is our birthday today," Jimin said, looking out over a sea of purple lights during the septet's "Arirang" concert in Busan, his hometown, on Saturday. "I'm so happy and delighted to sing and dance with you in the place I was born."

BTS released its fifth full-length album "Arirang" on March 20 and kicked off the world tour of the same title in Goyang, Gyeonggi, in April, which is set to be the largest K-pop tour ever, spanning 34 cities and 86 shows.

This year's anniversary carried particular weight, as it was BTS's first debut anniversary celebrated together after the group's military hiatus, which followed its 2022 "BTS Yet To Come in Busan" concert at the same stadium — the septet's last full-group activity before the break.

"It is the 13th anniversary on June 13, which will never come again," RM said. "So I hope we can sing together and jump together, so that we remember today forever."

Saturday's show began about 20 minutes after its scheduled 7 p.m. start, following a 75-minute delay the previous night caused by slow entry procedures, including gift handouts.

One thing has stood out across BTS's recent performances, from its Gwanghwamun comeback show on March 21 to the Goyang kickoff and the latest Busan concert — the crowd does not need prompting to stand up.

On Saturday, almost every section visible from my seat just behind the standing area rose the moment the BTS members made their entrance. Few sat down again until the short break before the encore.

The set followed the same order as other shows on the "Arirang" tour: an intense opening run from the hip-hop-heavy "Hooligan" and "Aliens" to "Run BTS" (2022), followed by a slower, increasingly sentimental medley through "they don't know 'bout us," "Like Animals," "Fake Love" (2018), "Swim" and "Merry Go Round."

While the stage was nearly identical in scale to the one used in Goyang, one subtle difference came from the curved open wall, which rose slightly higher around the audience seats in Busan. The change made the setup feel more intimate and gave the stage a greater sense of depth, which stood out during the Korean version of "Normal," a vocal-heavy B-side from "Arirang" performed for the first time at the Busan concert.

As the stage and crowd gradually glowed in a warm shade of orange, there were few additional staging elements beyond the synchronized ARMY Bombs and the moving lift stage, which made the stadium itself the focus — a vast field of light that seemed to pulse as one.

The first major highlight run of the night came with "Not Today" (2017), "MIC Drop" (2018), "FYA" and "Fire" (2016), before the energy surged again with the extended remix of "Body to Body" and "Idol" (2018), during which massive water cannons soared over the stadium with the opening verse by RM, "I need the whole stadium to jump" — a new addition for the Busan shows.

The last intermission before the final segment started with ARMY singing happy birthday to BTS among themselves, and showing their heartfelt messages and slogans whenever the camera captured them on screen.

BTS came back to the stage with "Come Over," a ...

Fans both with and without tickets came from all around the world to meet and celebrate the group's 13th anniversary in a city-wide ARMY embrace.

BUSAN — Tosin Ojulari did not have a ticket to BTS's "Arirang" concert in Busan. She came anyway.

For her first trip to Korea, she flew from Canada to Incheon International Airport, then traveled another 400 kilometers (249 miles) south to Busan on a four-hour express bus. By Friday afternoon, she was standing near Haeundae Beach, where BTS songs drifted over the shoreline and fans moved between experience zones, photo spots and other festivities under the clear June sky.

"As soon as the dates were announced, even though I hadn't gotten tickets, I booked my hotel within 10 minutes," Ojulari said.

Born in Nigeria and now based in Canada, Ojulari has been a member of BTS's fandom, known as ARMY, for five years. She came to Korea for the Busan edition of "The City Arirang," BTS's citywide promotional project, which coincided with the anniversary of the group's debut on June 13, 2013, and its two-night concert run at Busan Asiad Main Stadium on Friday and Saturday.

On Friday, the first day of the concerts, Haeundae Beach became one of the main stages of that citywide celebration. A sand sculpture with the words "Keep Swimming" — a phrase defining the theme of BTS's "Arirang" era and its lead single "Swim" — stood against the deep blue sea as fans took photos, jumping and posing in front of it.

The sand art was part of BTS's collaboration with the Haeundae Sand Festival, one of several local events folded into the Busan edition of "The City." Nearby, the "Love Song Lounge" hosted by BTS's agency HYBE ran from Friday to Sunday, inviting fans to write messages to BTS on red fabric banners, one of them reading, "Eight years of dreaming — now I can finally see BTS."

For Ojulari, that was the point. Even without a concert ticket, she said, Festa week — BTS's annual anniversary celebration, marked by online and offline events — gave her enough reason to make the trip.

"Even if I wasn't going to go to the concert, there would be things for me to see," she said.

This year's anniversary carried added meaning for fans like Ojulari. It marked BTS's first Festa celebrated together after the group's military hiatus, which followed its 2022 "BTS Yet To Come in Busan" concert at the same stadium — the septet's last full-group activity before the break.

"When I first met BTS, I was going through a lot," Ojulari said. "And I was like, before BTS comes back from the military, I'm going to have an apartment, a job, everything and then go see them — and that kept me going."

Busan had been preparing for fans like her, with more than 110,000 visitors projected to come to the city for the two-day concert at Busan Asiad Main Stadium. They included not only ticket holders, but also fans who had come to Korea simply to celebrate BTS's 13th anniversary with fellow ARMY as the city joined in with media facades, local festivals, pop-ups and banners — some official ones from HYBE, and others fan-made — spread across major tourist spots.

Annie, a New York-based fan from Thailand and an 11-year ARMY, also flew in from North America for her first visit to Busan and her first offline Festa. She arrived in Seoul first, joined an ARMY-themed tour there and then took a four-hour bus to Busan. Though she booked only one night in the city on Friday, she planned to return to Seoul before coming back to Busan by KTX on Monday for another ARMY-themed tour.

"Yesterday, I actually went on an ARMY tour in Seoul," she said, wearing a purple shirt with BTS member Jungkook's name stitched on the back. "Even people who don't have tickets are here. I'm just happy to be with people from all over the world."

For many fans arriving from Seoul by KTX, Busan Station was their first stop. Inside the station's Busan Eurasia Platform, a Welcome Center offered the first introduction to the Busan edition of "The City," with an informati...

Seoul's famed food market is turning to hybrid dishes and premium ingredients as vendors compete to stand out and keep tourists coming back.

At Gwangjang Market, one of Seoul's most popular stops for travelers seeking a taste of traditional Korean food, the latest trend is surprisingly modern: hybrid dishes.

At a yukhoe (Korean beef tartar) joint, customers can order bindaetteok (mung bean fritters), and at a bindaetteok stall, they can find yukhoe. The mix of once-distinct dishes is the result of intense competition inside the bustling market, where vendors are constantly looking for new ways to distinguish themselves.

The hybrid shift goes beyond a diner serving two different cuisines, but it is also happening on the plate itself.

One of the newest creations from the culinary movement is caviar-topped yukhoe gimbap (Korean seaweed roll).

The new treat combines two of Gwangjang Market's signature dishes — yukhoe, typically served heavily seasoned with sweetened soy sauce and sesame oil or with chogochujang (Korean chilli paste with vinegar), and mayak gimbap, slim rolls filled with simple ingredients such as pickled radish and cucumber.

Put the two together and voila. It results in an unexpectedly indulgent take on a street food staple. The flavor of raw beef becomes more pronounced while its tenderness stands out. The rolls are recommended to be dipped in fresh egg yolk or mayonnaise spiked with chili.

"We put a lot of thought into finding the right balance between Gwangjang Market's two signature dishes," said Chu Sang-mi, who runs Parkganae Bindaetteok, a decades-old bindaetteok joint which runs two outlets inside and nearby Gwangjang Market.

For those seeking an even more extravagant version, there is the ultimate caviar-topped option.

The premium roll was developed in collaboration with food influencer Bimirya, who also operates a caviar business.

"We wondered whether we had to sell only inexpensive food because we are in a traditional market," Chu said. "Japanese norimaki [seaweed rice rolls] often incorporate premium ingredients. We thought, why not try it ourselves? We thought it could be fun and a little shocking."

The result is undeniably luxurious. The briny richness of the caviar pairs surprisingly well with the tender yukhoe, creating a combination that feels both familiar and entirely new.

It of course comes with a hefty price tag.

A roll of the caviar version costs 31,000 won ($22), nearly three times the 11,000 won price of the standard yukhoe gimbap, which is already expensive for a humble Korean staple.

"We use caviar from Russia's Amur region, which costs about $100 for 30 grams [1 ounce]," Chu said. "We don't expect to make much profit from the caviar version."

Perhaps for that reason, the caviar-topped roll is available only at Parkganae's second branch.

Another specialty drawing attention at the diner is its shrimp wanja.

Traditionally, wanja are small patties made with minced beef and vegetables. The version served here, however, resembles a bindaetteok, with a flatter shape that provides a crispier texture.

Parkganae adds another twist to it by replacing the beef with minced shrimp. The shrimp wanja is lighter in texture but with a pronounced seafood flavor.

Gwanjang Market has undergone a significant transformation since its foundation in 1905, when Korean merchants established the market by pooling capital to compete with the growing presence of Japanese merchants. They expanded on an existing marketplace along the Cheonggyecheon and built modern market facilities. It once traded everything from agricultural goods to daily necessities and clothes.

A major turning point came in the 2000s when the restoration of the nearby stream attracted both locals and foreign visitors to the area. The market has since emerged as a hub for authentic Korean cuisine and local experiences.

"Cheonggyecheon was beautifully restored, and 'Squid Game' [2021-25] and BTS became big hits," Chu said. "I think tourists' ...

Psychiatric treatment ultimately depends on one's own agency. The same can be said of other forms of treatment, but mental health care tends to be more effective the more actively the patient engages with it.

*The series is based on the real-life experience of Kim Nam-young, a JoongAng Ilbo reporter currently living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The following articles are written from Kim's first-person perspective.

I have PTSD.

Itaewon is a well-known nightlife district in Yongsan District, central Seoul, and a popular spot for Halloween celebrations because of its diverse international culture. The disaster occurred during the first Halloween season after social distancing restrictions imposed during the Covid-19 pandemic had been lifted. Large crowds gathered in the area to celebrate.

As more and more people poured into the neighborhood, the crowd became dangerously packed. The situation eventually led to a crowd crush in a narrow alley, amid a lack of effective crowd-control measures, leaving some 350 people dead or injured, including 159 fatalities.

As a reporter on the social affairs desk, I covered the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022. Since November of the following year, I have been receiving treatment regularly. I attend psychiatric counseling sessions and take medication every day.

I am only revealing the illness now, more than two years later, not because I have overcome it. This is not a story about recovery, but a record of living through the illness. To be honest, I still do not know when, or if, I will overcome it.

Instead, I want to talk about the time I have spent living alongside PTSD. Even now, I continue to work as a policy and social affairs reporter while exercising, traveling and going on with daily life.

If someone is hesitant to see a doctor, I hope this piece helps. I also hope we can become a society where people do not feel forced to hide emotional pain and trauma.

There is a chill in the waiting room. The psychiatrist sits expressionless, listening — at least in my eyes — half-heartedly to what I have to say. I leave the doctor's office holding a mysterious prescription with little explanation.

This is what I imagined before I ever stepped inside a psychiatric clinic.

The reality, however, was the complete opposite.

It was far warmer than I expected, and the doctor listened carefully to what I said. The explanation about the medication was so kind and easy to understand that I could have repeated it word for word to someone else.

My first psychiatric visit was on Nov. 9, 2022 — a turning point in my life.

The visit was for my PTSD from covering the Oct. 29 Itaewon disaster the same year.

Psychiatric treatment ultimately depends on one's own agency. The same can be said of other forms of treatment, but mental health care tends to be more effective the more actively the patient engages with it. That does not mean I was willingly active from the start.

During my initial consultation, I underwent numerous tests, such as a heart rate variability (HRV) test, the Beck Depression Inventory, and the Beck Anxiety Inventory. These tests are widely used to objectively and scientifically assess levels of stress, depression and anxiety.

I think I received those tests on the first day of my visit because I had already explained that I was seeking treatment because of the Itaewon disaster.

The HRV test involved attaching clip-like sensors to my hands to measure my autonomic nervous system and heart activity. This is done because PTSD disrupts the balance of one's autonomic nervous system. The body continues reacting as if it is still in danger. My HRV test reflected exactly that.

My sympathetic nervous system was excessively activated. The results of the depression and anxiety tests were not much different.

After the tests, I sat down with a psychiatrist to review the results. I was asked questions like why I had come and what symptoms I had been experiencing. I explained that I worked as a r...

As a reporter on the social affairs desk, I covered the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022. Since November of the following year, I have been receiving treatment regularly. I attend psychiatric counseling sessions and take medication every day.

*The series is based on the real-life experience of Kim Nam-young, a JoongAng Ilbo reporter currently living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The following articles are written from Kim's first-person perspective.

I have PTSD.

Itaewon is a well-known nightlife district in Yongsan District, central Seoul, and a popular spot for Halloween celebrations because of its diverse international culture. The disaster occurred during the first Halloween season after social distancing restrictions imposed during the Covid-19 pandemic had been lifted. Large crowds gathered in the area to celebrate.

As more and more people poured into the neighborhood, the crowd became dangerously packed. The situation eventually led to a crowd crush in a narrow alley, amid a lack of effective crowd-control measures, leaving some 350 people dead or injured, including 159 fatalities.

As a reporter on the social affairs desk, I covered the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022. Since November of the following year, I have been receiving treatment regularly. I attend psychiatric counseling sessions and take medication every day.

I am only revealing the illness now, more than two years later, not because I have overcome it. This is not a story about recovery, but a record of living through the illness. To be honest, I still do not know when, or if, I will overcome it.

Instead, I want to talk about the time I have spent living alongside PTSD. Even now, I continue to work as a policy and social affairs reporter while exercising, traveling and going on with daily life.

If someone is hesitant to see a doctor, I hope this piece helps. I also hope we can become a society where people do not feel forced to hide emotional pain and trauma.

It began around October 2023, as the first anniversary of the Itaewon crowd crush approached.

Lost shoes piled along the side of the street, emergency responders pressing hard against the chests of people who had stopped breathing — These scenes would suddenly flash vividly into my mind even while walking down the street. When I woke from nightmares, my heart would race.

I began consciously avoiding related articles and even certain words. However, still, waves of nausea came over me, and I was always on edge for no apparent reason. Saying I was "having a hard time" did not come close to describing it.

A doctor later told me these were classic symptoms of PTSD. The things I had dismissed as simple oversensitivity were, in fact, cries of pain.

PTSD is not a memory that naturally fades with time. It is an illness in which the brain forces a person to relive past threats as if they are happening in the present.

That is why scenes suddenly resurface, and the body reacts first. Eventually, I had no choice but to begin treatment and start taking medication.

But there was something even harder to bear than the illness itself — It was accepting that I was someone receiving treatment.

After beginning PTSD treatment, I developed a new habit. Whenever I visited my hometown, which is in the countryside outside of Seoul, or traveled with friends, I packed a small opaque pouch with one purpose and one purpose only: to hold my psychiatric medication.

Before going to sleep, I would secretly take my pills in the bathroom and swallow them with water. In the mornings, I woke earlier than everyone else to take them. I always put the pill packets back into the pouch afterward.

If someone had asked what they were, I thought that I could probably brush them off as cold medicine. To be quite frank, I know that nobody would have even cared. Even so, I desperately wanted to hide the fact that I was seeing a psychiatrist.

The packets had no names on them. They were transparently wrapped. Yet I was terrified s...

Reporter Kim Nam-young shares her experience living with PTSD after covering the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022, which resulted in 159 deaths.

*The series is based on the real-life experience of Kim Nam-young, a JoongAng Ilbo reporter currently living with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The following articles are written from Kim's first-person perspective.

I have PTSD.

Itaewon is a well-known nightlife district in Yongsan District, central Seoul, and a popular spot for Halloween celebrations because of its diverse international culture. The disaster occurred during the first Halloween season after social distancing restrictions imposed during the Covid-19 pandemic had been lifted. Large crowds gathered in the area to celebrate.

As more and more people poured into the neighborhood, the crowd became dangerously packed. The situation eventually led to a crowd crush in a narrow alley, amid a lack of effective crowd-control measures, leaving some 350 people dead or injured, including 159 fatalities.

As a reporter on the social affairs desk, I covered the Itaewon disaster on Oct. 29, 2022. Since November of the following year, I have been receiving treatment regularly. I attend psychiatric counseling sessions and take medication every day.

I am only revealing the illness now, more than two years later, not because I have overcome it. This is not a story about recovery, but a record of living through the illness. To be honest, I still do not know when, or if, I will overcome it.

Instead, I want to talk about the time I have spent living alongside PTSD. Even now, I continue to work as a policy and social affairs reporter while exercising, traveling and going on with daily life.

If someone is hesitating to see a doctor, I hope this piece can help. I also hope we can become a society where people do not feel forced to hide emotional pain and trauma.

It was October 2023, and I was on a flight bound for Toronto. It was not an especially remarkable business trip — I was traveling to cover Canada's AI industry.

I still cannot clearly remember whether it was a dream or a half-asleep hallucination. Suddenly, that alley from a year earlier appeared before me — the site of the Itaewon disaster, where more than 150 people lost their lives.

It was so vivid and clear, as if a television screen had been placed right in front of my eyes. The same terror I had felt back then came rushing back as well, even though the cabin around me remained perfectly calm.

It was only later, after receiving treatment, that I learned this was a classic PTSD symptom known as a flashback — the reliving of a traumatic experience.

The same thing happened several more times after I returned to Korea. I often felt short of breath and began gagging more frequently. Sleepless nights became a regular part of my life.

The closer the first anniversary of the disaster came, the more unbearable it became. Eventually, I began seeing a psychiatrist. That was when I realized that the Itaewon of Oct. 29, 2022, had returned to me in the form of PTSD.

That was how my life with this illness — an illness that traps a person in the past — began.

The following story contains descriptions related to the Itaewon disaster of October 2022. Some readers may find references to disaster scenes, rescue efforts and emotional or physical reactions from the time distressing or psychologically unsettling. If you have experienced a similar trauma or are currently struggling emotionally, we encourage you to stop reading or seek support if needed. Assistance is available through nearby psychiatric clinics or mental health counseling centers.

That day, I was a reporter on the social affairs desk assigned to Itaewon. The area is a well-known spot in Korea to celebrate Halloween.

I had gone there to cover the night's celebrations, which had resumed for the first time in three years after being halted by the Covid-19 pandemic, and to write a feature story about the people taking part.

Peopl...

The GOT7 singer-songwriter says his first release under 528Hz reflects personal growth, deeper comfort in his craft and a stronger solo R&B identity.

Singer-songwriter Jay B wants listeners to recognize his voice as the unmistakable R&B vocalist of boy band GOT7 — while also hearing how far his solo music has come.

Jay B's third and latest EP, "TR.EE," comes three years and eight months after his previous solo album and marks his first new release since he joined his new agency, 528Hz. He poured his soul into this album, the 32-year-old said, hoping his music truly resonates with listeners for years to come.

"I always think a lot about how to make people recognize, 'This music is from Jay B from GOT7," he said during a listening session of his third EP, "TR.EE," held at SeongsuYul Music in eastern Seoul on Wednesday. "At the same time, I also put a lot of thoughts into letting people notice how Jay B's music is different from GOT7's."

The singer debuted as a member of GOT7 with JYP Entertainment in 2014, and has been actively involved in shaping the group's discography. When the band members' contracts with JYP Entertainment came to an end in 2021, they decided to go their separate ways without officially disbanding the group, and Jay B joined 586Hz earlier this year.

His latest album, "TR:EE," was inspired by a phrase he read from a book by author Yoo Young-man: "A tree grows because it shakes; […] the roots grow deeper when the tree has been shaken harder."

"There is always this feeling of anxiety inside me, but the day I encountered that phrase, I think it felt a bit more intense than usual," Jay B shared. "I found comfort from it — that I was not merely struggling but actually growing."

The album features six songs: the lead track "Layback" and B-sides "Hold onto My Back," "Overflow," "One Call Away," "Time" and "We." Jay B is credited for songwriting and lyrics for all six songs in the album.

While GOT7's music has been leaning more into dance-heavy and trendy pop sound, Jay B wanted his solo music to stay rooted in his affinity for groovy R&B.

"I hope people come back to the songs again and again for a long time, like rereading books they have already read before," he said, adding with a smile, "The plan is to live a long and healthy life, but even after I'm gone, I wish my songs can continue to be sung and have an impact."

Jay B said he let go of the pressure to prove himself with this album, noting that he now feels more comfortable with where he stands.

"I used to think about being the best," he said. "But now, I'm thinking more about doing my best instead. Being best is great — but now, I'm focusing on doing my best."

BY SHIN HA-NEE [[email protected]]

The opposition leader's push for a nationwide revote and an end to early voting risks fueling fraud claims instead of restoring trust through a full inquiry.

Jang Dong-hyeok, the leader of the People Power Party (PPP), said on Tuesday regarding the ballot shortage in the June 3 local elections that "the only way to fundamentally resolve this disenfranchisement crisis is ultimately to hold a nationwide revote." He argued that, separate from legal procedures such as election petitions and lawsuits, the National Election Commission should itself declare this local election invalid and then hold rerun elections nationwide.

While there is no dispute that there was a comprehensive failure in election administration, it is questionable whether the main opposition party leader's call for a nationwide revote accords with ordinary voters' common sense. That is because the priority should be to thoroughly uncover the truth behind the mistakes of the constitutional body that deprived the public of their precious voting rights and clearly reveal it to the public.

Jang is also calling for the abolition of early voting along with a nationwide rerun election. Using online posts by internal election commission staff complaining of practical difficulties and limitations in managing early voting and vote counting as a pretext, he is denying the entire system outright. He has even mentioned the so-called twin vote tally phenomenon, in which Democratic Party and PPP candidates recorded the same number of votes at different polling stations during early voting, speaking and acting as though he is trying to link this election to past allegations of election fraud.

However, attempts to connect the calls at a rally in the Olympic Park in Songpa District, southern Seoul, demanding guaranteed voting rights with election fraud claims are a direct insult to voters who want fairness and justice. The argument that early voting, which was introduced to guarantee voting rights, should simply be abolished is also irresponsible.

One would hope Jang is not making such arguments with the intention of using public anger to evade demands that he take responsibility for the local election defeat and step down.

If election fraud claims or conspiracy theories intervene in this situation, it will be impossible to root out the lawlessness and laxity of the complacent election commission. Only after a thorough and objective fact-finding process and measures in accordance with legal procedures can a reasonable solution be found to this unprecedented infringement of voting rights.

Seoul Mayor Oh Se-hoon, who was, for all intents and purposes, directly affected by the ballot shortage incident, and even voices within the PPP have expressed a cautious view that the election law, which stipulates that a revote should not be held unless illegalities altered the outcome, must be respected. What the leader of the main opposition party should be doing now is not jumping on election fraud claims but gathering constructive opinions from inside and outside his party and helping restore trust in the election system. That is the stern command of the people, who are sovereign.

장동혁 대표의 '전국 재선거' 주장, 퇴진 압박 회피용 아닌가

장동혁 국민의힘 대표가 어제 6·3 지방선거 투표용지 부족 사태와 관련해 "이번 참정권 박탈 사태를 근본적으로 해결하는 것은 결국 전국 재선거밖에 없다"고 말했다. 법적 절차와 별개로 선관위가 스스로 이번 지방선거가 무효임을 선언한 뒤 전국에서 재선거를 해야 한다는 주장이다. 선거 관리에 총체적 부실이 있었던 것은 논란의 여지가 없는 과오지만, 그렇다고 전국 재선거를 하자는 제1 야당 대표의 주장이 일반 유권자 상식에 부합하는지는 의문이다. 국민의 소중한 참정권을 박탈한 헌법기관의 실책에 대한 진상을 철저히 규명해서 국민 앞에 명백히 밝히는 일이 우선돼야 하기 때문이다.

장 대표는 전국 재선거와 함께 사전투표제 폐지를 주장하고 있다. 선관위 직원들이 사전투표와 개표 관리에 실무적 고충과 한계가 있다고 하소연한 글을 빌미 삼아 시스템을 통째로 부정하는 것이다. 여기에 민주당과 국민의힘 후보가 다른 투표소(사전투표)에서 똑같은 득표수를 기록한 이른바 '쌍둥이 득표' 현상까지 거론하며 이번 선거를 과거의 부정선거론과 연결지으려는 듯한 언행을 하고 있다. 그러나 올림픽공원 집회의 참정권 보장 외침을 부정선거론과 연결짓는 시도는 공정과 정의를 원하는 유권자를 정면으로 모욕하는 일이다. 참정권 보장을 위해 도입된 사전투표제를 덮어놓고 폐지하자는 주장 또한 무책임하다. 만에 하나라도 장 대표가 분노한 민심을 이용해 자신에 대한 지방선거 패배 책임론과 사퇴 압박을 회피하려는 저의를 갖고 이런 주장을 펴는 것이 아니길 바란다.

이번 사태에 부정선거론이나 음모론이 개입하면 무사안일에 빠진 선관위의 탈법...