Seoul Security Researcher Documentary

Prompt

Create a 30-second, 1080p ultra-realistic documentary-style personal home video showing an ordinary summer day in the life of a young Korean grey-hat security researcher living alone in Seoul. The footage should feel spontaneous, intimate, imperfect, slightly secretive, and genuinely observed rather than performed. Nothing should feel like a movie hacker scene. No glowing green code walls, no dramatic cyberpunk lighting, no masks, no hoodies pulled over the face, no exaggerated typing, no floating holograms, no fake “ACCESS GRANTED” interfaces, no police raids, no guns, no explosions. The subject should simply feel like an intelligent, obsessive young man whose daily life quietly revolves around computers, security research, curiosity, and ethically ambiguous boundaries. MAIN SUBJECT: The same young Korean man in his early 20s throughout the entire video. Naturally handsome but ordinary-looking, realistic skin texture, slightly tired eyes, calm expression, subtle dark circles from poor sleep, naturally messy medium-length black hair falling loosely over his forehead, very light stubble. He wears a loose faded charcoal T-shirt, relaxed dark olive trousers, worn white socks or sneakers depending on the scene, and a simple silver wristwatch. No stereotypical hacker clothing. Keep his face, identity, body proportions, hairstyle, clothing, watch, posture, and overall appearance completely consistent from beginning to end. His personality should feel quiet, observant, slightly introverted, dryly amused, highly focused, and emotionally understated. HOME / LOCATION: A small older studio apartment in a quiet residential neighborhood of Seoul. The apartment should feel lived-in rather than designed. Small desk pushed against a wall, two mismatched computer monitors, mechanical keyboard, wired mouse, old laptop, cheap desk lamp, notebooks with handwritten diagrams, USB drives, tangled charging cables, router, half-finished canned coffee, empty instant noodle cup, small desk fan, external hard drives, phone charger, laundry drying indoors, books stacked unevenly, curtains moving slightly from an open window. Outside the apartment: narrow Seoul residential alleys, concrete walls, utility poles, rooftop water tanks, parked scooters, bicycles, small staircases, neighborhood convenience stores, apartment entrances, delivery boxes, summer trees, overhead wires, distant traffic. No recognizable companies, no real website names, no real credentials, no identifiable private information, no real hacking targets. Any computer interfaces should look believable but fictional and non-instructional. CAMERA / VISUAL STYLE: Authentic casual personal-video footage captured with an older consumer digital camera. Handheld camera operated by a friend spending the day with him. Natural camera shake. Imperfect framing. Occasional autofocus hunting. Slight exposure changes when moving between the dark apartment and bright outdoor sunlight. Soft detail. Mild motion blur. Subtle digital noise. Slightly muted colors. Imperfect white balance. Natural compression artifacts. Occasionally the camera reacts too late, catches only part of an action, briefly focuses on the wrong object, or accidentally frames empty space. No stabilization. No gimbal. No drone shots. No cinematic push-ins. No dramatic shallow depth of field. No commercial color grading. No stylized cyberpunk lighting. No impossible screen reflections. No polished cinematography. The footage should feel like someone simply followed their friend around for one ordinary day. 00:00–00:05 — LATE MORNING / WAKING UP: He is asleep sideways on his bed in the small apartment while sunlight leaks through thin curtains. A laptop remains open on the desk from the previous night. Its screen shows an ordinary dark terminal window with harmless scrolling system logs and diagnostic text. A desk fan rotates slowly. His phone vibrates on the floor. He wakes up, reaches down sleepily, checks the phone, squints at the screen, then sits on the edge of the bed for several seconds. He runs one hand through his messy hair. The camera operator is already inside the apartment. He notices the camera, looks mildly annoyed for half a second, then gives a tired little smile. The autofocus briefly locks onto the laptop instead of his face before correcting. Natural morning room sound only. 00:05–00:10 — FIRST CHECK OF THE DAY: He sits at the desk barefoot with one knee raised slightly under the chair. One monitor displays a fictional vulnerability-reporting dashboard. The other shows terminal windows, log files, documentation, network diagrams, and harmless test-environment data. He slowly scrolls through a page while drinking canned coffee. He types naturally, pauses often, rereads something, leans closer to the screen, then quietly says something under his breath that cannot clearly be heard. Avoid exaggerated typing speed. Avoid showing real exploit commands, credentials, malware, or actionable hacking instructions. The camera stands slightly behind his shoulder, occasionally drifting out of focus because the bright monitor confuses the autofocus. He notices something interesting. His posture changes slightly. He stops drinking. His expression becomes focused. No dramatic reaction. 00:10–00:14 — SOMETHING DOESN'T LOOK RIGHT: He opens several fictional system logs and compares them across both monitors. He writes a few words into a paper notebook beside the keyboard. The notebook contains rough arrows, boxes, timestamps, fictional IP ranges, question marks, and incomplete handwritten notes. Nothing should be readable enough to function as real instructions. He tests something only inside a clearly isolated local lab or sandbox environment. A small progress indicator finishes. He leans back. A tiny smile appears. Not triumph. More like: “I found something strange.” He glances toward the camera. The friend holding the camera quietly laughs. He shakes his head and turns back toward the computer. 00:14–00:18 — LEAVING THE APARTMENT: He closes the laptop, leaves the desktop running, slips on his sneakers, grabs his phone, and walks downstairs. The camera follows him through an older apartment stairwell. Bright summer sunlight causes the camera exposure to blow out temporarily when they step outside. He walks through a narrow neighborhood alley. Hands in pockets. Quiet. He buys a cold bottled drink from a tiny convenience store or vending machine. No identifiable branding. He stands outside drinking it while checking something on his phone. For a moment, he looks completely ordinary. An elderly neighbor walks past. A bicycle passes in the distance. Cicadas are loud. He pockets the phone and continues walking. 00:18–00:22 — PUBLIC WIFI / SECOND THOUGHTS: He sits alone at an outdoor concrete table beneath a shaded residential structure or small neighborhood rest area. His laptop is open. He connects through his own portable hotspot or clearly controlled test connection. The screen shows fictional security research notes and a draft report. He appears to be deciding whether to send something. His finger hovers over the trackpad. He stops. Reads the screen again. Deletes one sentence. Rewrites it. The feeling should subtly suggest that his work sometimes exists in an ethical gray area without showing any illegal action. He finally closes the laptop without sending anything. He looks across the street for several seconds. A small breeze moves his hair. The camera remains quiet. 00:22–00:26 — BACK HOME / DISCLOSURE: Early evening. He is back at the desk. The room is darker now. Only the weak desk lamp, monitor glow, and orange sunlight from the window illuminate the apartment. He opens the fictional report again. The document contains a neutral vulnerability summary with sections resembling: “Summary,” “Observed behavior,” “Impact,” “Re