Echoes of Dragon Blood
It must have been about three years after I possessed this world. When chaos erupted and public safety deteriorated to an extreme, the government began delegating some security duties to the private sector. That was when private military companies—PMCs—started appearing one after another in Korea as well. Among them, Dragon Blood was a fairly well-known PMC, and its leader was none other than Yonghui, Seong Jiyeong.
“There’s no chance it’s someone else. A face like that isn’t exactly common, right? And the fact that she’s the same age as me matches too.”
Unlike other PMCs that handled things sloppily and violently, Dragon Blood was known for its clean operations and strong public image. But what made them even more famous than their efficiency was Yonghui’s overwhelming beauty. With her haughty, chic cat-like features and that charming tear mole, she was one of the rare PMC leaders who actually had a fandom. She consistently ranked at the very top of the newly emerged superhuman popularity rankings after the world twisted.
Of course, if I had revealed my face like Yonghui did, I probably would’ve gained some popularity too—but that was never an option for me.
“Man, this brings back memories.”
Truthfully, I’d always thought highly of Yonghui. After all, pretty and cute things are justice. Na Yeri was obviously stunning too, but her gentle-looking impression didn’t quite match my tastes. Seong Jiyeong, on the other hand, was the perfect shot to my preferences. How could anyone resist a haughty cat queen with a tear mole? Of course, given my position, even when we happened to cross paths during operations, we never got to have a proper conversation. Still, I’d quietly cheered her on from the sidelines.
Dragon Blood, which had been operating at full throttle, disappeared roughly four years later. After Yonghui was betrayed and killed during an internal power struggle, the company disbanded. It was a loss both socially and personally. Dragon Blood had been one of the rare PMCs that prioritized social justice over profit. Ironically, that very ideal forced its members to overwork, and the resulting resentment became the seed of betrayal. It really does seem like the good people are the first to vanish when the end times come.
“Well, that future won’t repeat itself now. Still, to think that Yonghui was an idol trainee… That’s a fresh twist.”
In the first timeline, Seong Jiyeong had this strange magnetism that drew people’s eyes even when she was just standing still. At the very least, her star quality was already proven. So her joining the team was a good sign in every sense. While dancing and singing mattered, in the end, a team’s fate often came down to the members’ star power.
“We’ve got the all-rounder main vocalist Yu Hana, who even the big agencies were eyeing, Yonghui Seong Jiyeong, and even Tasha, the daughter of Mother Russia. With this lineup, the spotlight probably won’t hit me much. If I’m lucky, I might even get to coast…”
Things seemed to be going smoothly from the start—getting into Cha Entertainment’s debut lineup and all.
***
“…A psychiatric consultation?”
“Yeah. It’s not because I think there’s something wrong with you. It’s just preventive. Honestly, it’s nothing special. Even after debut, you’ll be getting regular check-ups, so think of this as getting some experience in advance.”
“Well, every modern person carries at least one mental issue or another.”
“Exactly. So don’t feel too pressured. Just be honest. You know what I mean, right?”
“Yes, I understand.”
The very first schedule assigned to me as a member of Cha Entertainment’s debut team was, absurdly enough, a psychiatric consultation. On the surface, it was presented as no big deal, but it seemed Representative Cha also suspected Na Yeri might have some mental issues. After all, he was the person closest to her—he’d know her situation better than anyone. Honestly, given the environment she grew up in, it would’ve been stranger if she didn’t have mental problems.
Of course, even Representative Cha probably hadn’t expected her condition to be this severe. Anxiety, social withdrawal, and even anorexia. Even I had to admit it was pretty bad. With so many chaotic events happening, I’d almost forgotten, but it had been the same in the first timeline too. Right before I switched companies, I’d gone to a psychiatric consultation while holding Representative Cha’s hand. It hadn’t really meant anything, though. The one with the mental issues was Na Yeri, and I wasn’t her.
Of course, even I—who’d been hit with both a novel possession and a TS beam out of nowhere—probably had my fair share of mental problems, but this wasn’t something a psychiatrist could fix. How the hell would I even explain it? The moment I honestly opened up, I’d be branded as the local crazy bitch and dragged straight to a mental hospital.
In that sense, even the current me didn’t really need psychiatric treatment. Between the novel possession, the TS beam, and now regression on top of it all—a triple combo—I still couldn’t exactly vent to anyone about it. Even so, this consultation held important meaning for me. It would serve as a crucial justification to explain the sudden change from Na Yeri to me.
Unlike the first timeline, where I’d transferred to a company that knew nothing about Na Yeri, this time I had to debut at Cha Entertainment, where everyone knew her inside and out. Since she and I were fundamentally different people, the company staff were bound to find it strange. Our personalities were so different that hiding it completely was impossible. With psychiatric treatment involved, though, I figured I could gloss things over somehow.
That was why I’d gone along with Representative Cha’s roundabout way of steering me toward the hospital without triggering my temper. I’d honestly been wrestling with this issue myself. When he just straight-up handed me the answer like that, I’d snatched it up immediately. As expected of Representative Cha. He really was someone I couldn’t help but be grateful for.
The consultation results came back faster than expected. The diagnosis was burnout. Not at a severe level yet, but the counselor’s opinion was that mental stability was needed.
“Wait, you haven’t even debuted yet…”
Representative Cha looked extremely flustered at the sudden diagnosis of burnout for a trainee who hadn’t even debuted. Honestly, even I thought it was ridiculous. If a trainee was already burned out, how were they supposed to handle activities? Of course, my burnout had nothing to do with being a trainee, but since Representative Cha didn’t know that, his reaction was understandable.
Still, I had to admire the doctor’s skill in pinpointing my condition so accurately with just a few exchanges. I’d been mostly honest—except for the parts about possession and regression—but even so, figuring it out in one go couldn’t have been easy. No wonder Representative Cha had brought me all the way here. The doctor was more competent than I’d expected.
“Things have gotten a bit strange, but don’t worry about it. Just keep up with the consultations. Nothing’s going to change.”
Reading something from my subtle expression, Representative Cha reassured me that nothing would change. It sounded like he was saying it as much to himself as to me. Either way, it seemed our Representative Cha had no intention of giving up on me over something like this.
“How was the consultation?”
“It was fine. I don’t know… I feel a bit more at ease?”
“Oh, really? That’s good. Yeah, just keep that relaxed mindset. They said the symptoms aren’t that serious, so you’ll be fine soon.”
After the examination came the actual counseling session. When Representative Cha asked how it went afterward, I deliberately gave a positive response. That way, he’d accept my changes more favorably. Even now, just signaling that I felt a little more at ease had visibly brightened his expression. He clearly thought this should’ve been done much earlier.
From now on, I’d probably need to actively accept psychiatric consultations and therapy as much as possible.
“Heading back to the company?”
“Yes, I need to loosen up my body a bit.”
“Alright then. You can head straight back.”
After the morning psychiatric consultation, I returned to the company in Representative Cha’s car. After dropping me off with a single reminder not to overdo it, he hurried back to his office. He must have had something urgent.
“At this point, it’s obvious what kind of busy work it is.”
After watching his retreating figure for a moment, I headed straight for the training room. Even though the company’s practice schedule was concentrated in the afternoon, I’d come to the training room first to deal with this damn body. With my current physical condition, I couldn’t even begin to handle the most important task I had in mind. At the very least, I needed twenty to thirty percent of my prime condition. No matter how different the era was or how much of a specialist I was in this field, I needed at least that much if I wanted any chance of making something work.
“I’m not sure if I should call this fortunate…”
The place that had researched the most efficient ways to develop a superhuman’s physical abilities was, of course, the Superhuman Bureau. And among its departments, the Special Task Force was the most ruthless and intense when it came to honing physical capabilities. Having been an ace in the Special Task Force for quite a long time, I knew exactly how to handle this body efficiently.
So I tried loosening up according to my old routine, but my current body was in such terrible shape that it would take some time to bring my form back up to a certain level.
“I’ve skipped physical training recently, but it’s not like the body hasn’t been trained at all. The real problem is the nutritional state, huh? That damn anorexia…”
It was something I only realized now, but idols in this world weren’t just people who danced and sang. An idol was literally an object of worship. After transitioning to the superhuman idol system, idols had to be superhumans as well. To fans, a superhuman was someone who displayed overwhelming physical and combat abilities along with strange superpowers. That was why many teams captured fans’ hearts by embodying various concepts within the superhuman category.
You could tell the atmosphere of this world just by watching variety shows. Whenever idols appeared, they were inevitably asked to demonstrate superhuman capabilities. From simple superpower demonstrations and physical ability checks to light sparring with other idols—nothing was off the table. It might seem bizarre by the standards of real-world idols, but this was reality here.
In the end, it meant that intense physical training and practical combat training were somewhat mandatory for idols in this world. One thing people often misunderstood was that superhumans didn’t gain tremendous physical abilities the moment they awakened their powers. Unless they had awakened a special superpower related to physical abilities, their base physical stats weren’t much different from ordinary people. However, superhumans could overcome human limits depending on their effort. For example, if an ordinary person’s physical ability was 1 with a growth limit of 2, a superhuman would have physical ability 1 with a growth limit of 4–5. So those insane performances idols put on stage weren’t free. To break through limits, that level of intense training was necessary.
Of course, there was also a method of handling superhuman energy—commonly called psychic power—like mana in a game to enhance physical abilities. It was a fairly difficult technique, but not impossible with training. Even so, its effectiveness was proportional to the base physical ability. No matter how much you racked your brain, there was no avoiding weight training in this profession.
In a world like this, Na Yeri, who had been a trainee for six years, couldn’t possibly have a weak body. Even if she’d skipped some training recently due to anorexia, her foundation was solid. Of course, it was far below my standards, but that was only because my baseline was so high. Objectively speaking, Na Yeri had been a well-forged blade.
The problem was that her nutritional state was so messed up that recovering it would take quite some time. This was something I needed to approach steadily. If I tried to increase my food intake too hastily, I might end up ruining my body instead. Besides, I was about to debut as an idol soon. So rather than blindly bulking up, I needed to extract maximum efficiency with the slimmest, most elegant muscles possible. No matter how important “the most important task” was, I still had to live in this world afterward, so my own life mattered too.
Of course, this body wasn’t the type to pack on thick muscle easily, but if I charged ahead thinking only about efficiency, my life would just get exhausting.
“Not that the company would just sit back and watch that happen anyway.”
Either way, reaching the goal would take a fair amount of time. So I shouldn’t think too hastily and just slowly carve away at my body without pushing it too hard.
“Should I start with some light bench presses to warm up? Maybe around 120?”
Of course, that “slowly” was bound to be on a completely different level from what ordinary people meant.