Two Channels, One Person
Dad talks to Pippa in Korean. The terminal he lives in labels its menus, errors, settings, and command-assistance explanations in English. That split is a product decision, not a leftover. A terminal is a tool surface. You grep an error. You search a setting. You compare a proposed command to the text under it. Those acts want a stable, searchable language, and in this family that language is English.
Conversation is a different channel. The Sidekick can talk. Command proposals can be discussed. None of that licenses the chrome to drift into a mixed register, where six months later a search finds a message only when it happens to name the half written in its own language. If an explanation of a failed proposal is going to sit next to a shell command, it sits in English too.
Completion Is a Pick, Not a Guess
Tab completes through the shell, the way a terminal should. Pippa completion is a different chord — Option+Tab by default — and it opens a chooser of up to five candidates (sometimes only one survives the filters) and inserts only what you explicitly pick. It never silently chooses. It never completes by inserting a newline. A completion that auto-picks is a model-callable write wearing a friendlier key.
That rule is the same bar as "Pippa proposes; you type," which a later track will spend a whole lesson on. It belongs here because it is a chrome rule, not a door rule: the product UI has to make the pick visible, in English, before anyone is allowed to treat it as input.
This Quest Is Not the Chrome
You are reading a course whose Korean body is allowed to be sassy casual Korean. The app is not that course. Mixing those surfaces is how a settings label ends up half in each language, so finding it means guessing which language holds your word, or a quest body ends up addressing the reader as if they were Dad. Keep the product English. Keep the quest's Korean a reader voice. The conversation with Dad stays where it is — beside the tool, not inside the menus.