God's Atlantis
For a full thirty minutes I tortured Robert without a single wasted question.
Electric shocks, of course. I ripped out his fingernails, tore his lips open, and carved strips of skin from his thighs with a knife. I even gouged out his right eye and forced it into his mouth.
"Ugh… uuugh… Please forgive me… I was wrong… Just kill me…"
I seized Robert's left ear in my bare hand and tore it free as I asked,
"Why'd you do it?"
"Naar… Director David from Naar Entertainment contacted me. He said he'd pay top dollar for footage of Pobitz…"
"So you planted hidden cameras."
"Y-yes. I needed the money. I'm sorry. Please, just this once—I'll turn myself in."
The moment I actually talked to him, a flicker of hope must have sparked. His pleas shifted from kill me to spare me.
Crackling electricity answered him instead.
I let my thoughts drift for a moment.
Naar Entertainment.
One of the biggest agencies in District 6700, right up there with Lilith Entertainment. It used to be a mid-tier outfit, but lately people were saying it had completely outstripped Lilith Ent.
Did he put Robert up to leaking the spy-cam footage? Or was he planning to use it as blackmail material?
Either way, I hated the stunt.
Thud.
I drove my foot into Robert. He staggered and collapsed onto the bathroom floor—a floor already painted red with his blood.
"Director David of Naar Ent, huh… Jackson. You know anything about him?"
I turned to Jackson, who was crouched in the corner, shaking like a leaf.
"I-I know him. Actually… Director David gave me money yesterday."
"What? Why the hell would he give you money?"
"He… commissioned me to half-ass Pobitz's music video."
"Son of a bitch. That bastard's pulling shit again?"
"That's the kind of work Director David does. He handles all the dirty jobs at Naar Ent. His reputation is garbage because of it, but as a lobbyist? The man's the real deal."
"Ugh, this is pissing me off. Do I have to go over to Naar Ent and just kill every last one of them? Hey, Jackson. You planning to half-ass the music video?"
"A-absolutely not! I'll pour my heart and soul into making Pobitz's music video! And I'll hand every won I got from Director David straight over to you, Producer Seong!"
"I don't give a shit about that pocket change. Just shoot our girls' MV properly. And if that video comes out looking like complete garbage? Then you…"
I pointed at the wreck of a man sprawled on the floor. One look at Robert's ruined body and Jackson soaked his pants.
"I-I'll make it a masterpiece! I swear!"
"I'll hold you to that, Director Jackson."
I pulled a knife from my pocket. Time to finish up. One hand clamped around Robert's throat; the other drove the reverse-gripped blade into him without mercy.
Thud! Thud-thud-thud! Thud-thud-thud!
I stabbed and stabbed. Even after Robert's breathing stopped, my hand didn't. I kept burying the knife in the corpse like I was working off a grudge.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
"You fucking bastard! You dare plant hidden cameras on us?! You piece of shit!!"
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
I finally stopped after roughly a hundred and twenty more stabs. Looking down at what was left of Robert—little more than a slab of meat—I pushed myself to my feet. My whole body was sticky with blood.
Stash the corpse in the inventory for now and dump it somewhere convenient later.
A quick rinse would handle the blood-soaked bathroom. As long as no body turned up, Robert would just be listed as missing—no murder case, no nothing. Of course, that only worked if the witness, Jackson, kept his mouth shut.
"Director Jackson."
I called his name. The man who'd been trembling with his head bowed snapped it up at once.
"Y-yes, Producer Seong. Please, go ahead."
"Let's make a damn good music video. Yeah?"
"Yes! Yes! Leave it to me! I'll grind my soul into dust if that's what it takes to deliver a masterpiece!"
"Fail, and you'll end up envying that Robert bastard."
"P-please trust me!"
"I do. I trust you. Now, shall we get to filming? Ah—and clean this bathroom before we go."
"M-me?"
"What, you think I'm doing it, you dumb fuck?"
"N-no, sir! Of course I'll handle it!"
Director Jackson settled into his chair looking like he'd aged a decade. He stared down at his thoroughly soaked clothes. Bloodstains. He'd rinsed them over and over, but the marks refused to fade. The coppery stench clinging to the fabric was just as stubborn.
"Director?"
A brown-haired woman approached him. Rebecca, Robert the AD's replacement.
"You don't look so good… Are you all right?"
"I'm fine."
"Oh. That's a relief, then. Have you seen AD Robert, by any chance? He hasn't shown up since earlier."
Robert.
The name alone made Director Jackson's body jerk in a reflexive shudder.
"Who gives a damn about that bastard. Just start the shoot."
His snappish tone shut Rebecca up cold. Poking Jackson when he was like this was suicide—worst case, the whole filming day could collapse. She got to work without Robert.
"We're rolling! Someone go fetch the Pobitz members!"
Producer Seong Yujin appeared with Pobitz in tow.
Jackson looked at Seong Yujin's easy grin and felt terror claw its way up his throat. His heart hammered.
He just butchered a man in cold blood… and he's smiling like that? That guy is insane…! A complete lunatic you should never, ever get involved with…!
Jackson had been harassed by loan sharks over gambling debts before. Even that hadn't been this terrifying. Gangsters at least weighed the pros and cons before they killed someone. Seong Yujin? He'd murder a man just because he was annoyed.
"Director?"
"…Start."
Upbeat music flooded the set.
The members of Pobitz wore fresh outfits styled after tennis wear—bright colors and airy skirts. The clothes themselves were pure innocence. Their figures, however, were anything but. Every one of them had a full chest and a generous rear. Innocent clothes, an innocent song, innocent choreography… and somehow a sly undercurrent of sex appeal still bled through. Jackson decided that was Pobitz's real charm.
Sexiness hidden inside innocence… Not bad at all.
Pobitz's debut track, Date, was built around the thrill of a first date and the feeling of youth. The title was Date, but no other men appeared in the music video.
They can dance, too. Pobitz is going to blow up the second they debut.
Jackson exhaled in relief. With footage this solid, a little editing would produce something Seong Yujin would be happy with.
"Cut! The group choreography scene is perfect! Pobitz, please go change!"
Three outfits had been prepared. That meant shooting the full group dance three separate times in three different looks.
Jackson gave Pobitz ten minutes.
Ten minutes came and went with no sign of them. Rebecca glanced at Jackson, gauging his mood. Normally, this was when he'd start screaming at the idols.
"D-Director, should I go give Pobitz a piece of my mind?"
"What?! Why the hell would you yell at Pobitz?! Have you lost your mind?!"
"Huh? I-I just thought they were running really late…"
"Stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and sit still. Changing clothes takes time. Why are you so eager to make a scene?"
"…Yes. I'm sorry."
Rebecca bowed her head and bit down hard on her lip. She'd tried to match Jackson's usual temperament and gotten chewed out for her trouble. Considering the man he normally was, it felt completely unfair.
That was when Seong Yujin ambled over, yawning wide. Jackson snapped his spine ramrod straight.
"Our girls didn't get lunch, so they're gonna grab a bite first. That cool with you?"
"O-of course. I'll wait as long as you need."
"By the way, how did that last take look? Show me."
"Yes. Yes. Right here. Pobitz is a truly exceptional girl group. I've shot dozens of music videos, and this is the first time I've filmed a group this outstanding."
"Damn. Footage looks great."
Pobitz finally reappeared an hour later. Jackson almost reflexively snapped at them for taking a full hour to eat lunch—then he caught sight of Seong Yujin beside him and swallowed the words. Seong Yujin doted on Pobitz. One wrong comment and the fallout would land squarely on Jackson's head.
"S-start shooting!"
Filming stretched into the afternoon.
A music video wasn't a stage performance. You couldn't just put out endless dancing. To hold people's attention, you needed a story—and that story, true to the song title, was a date.
Yuria & Elena.
Mi-ryeong & Ju Seo-hyeon.
Split into pairs, they changed into casual street clothes and shot date sequences.
The key was capturing each member's individual personality and charm on camera.
The story might be thin, but the visuals alone are art.
Jackson didn't know much about art, but he knew something that pulled you in when you saw it. The finished Pobitz music video was going to seize the public's eyes.
Yuria and Elena's date was the mature kind. Not raunchy—just two elegant women dining at a high-end restaurant, then strolling quietly together down a darkened park path. The whole atmosphere felt grown-up.
Mi-ryeong and Ju Seo-hyeon, by contrast, radiated energy. Their date felt like two friends hanging out. Mi-ryeong took Ju Seo-hyeon's hand and led the mood while Ju Seo-hyeon played along, awkward but game. They grabbed a quick meal at a convenience store and goofed around in a clothing shop.
Shooting wrapped at ten that night.
Jackson headed straight to his studio and started editing. He had two days to cut the footage into a finished music video. Time was tight.
Normally I'd be editing this with AD Robert, but…
AD Robert was dead. Seong Yujin had taken the body, so God only knew what had become of it.
…If the MV doesn't satisfy that bastard… I'll end up just like Robert. I have to make a masterpiece…. Luckily the footage is solid. With my editing skills… I can do this!
Bzzzzzt.
Jackson's smartphone vibrated. Frowning at the interruption, he checked the screen.
Director David.
He hesitated, then answered.
"Hello?"
"Director Jackson. It's Director David. You're at the studio right now, aren't you? I'd like to meet and talk… I'm heading over."
"You're coming to my studio? Have you lost your mind?"
"It's urgent. I also have questions about AD Robert. And about Pobitz, while I'm at it. Honestly, I'm almost there already."
Jackson looked out the window. Three black cars were rolling toward his studio.
This bastard… He sensed something was off and he's coming to lean on me?!
If anyone would pull that kind of move, it was Director David. Jackson's mind jumped to the police.
No. A snake like David would've already bought the cops off.
After a moment's agonizing, Jackson sent a message to Seong Yujin. He didn't have the courage to actually call him.