Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: Episode 57. When the Shrinking Thing Blooms (4)
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― Chick Mask Cadet, you have zero performance experience?
A warm yet commanding voice rang out through the microphone. Gaeul nodded cautiously, then a beat later grabbed the mic and murmured, "Yes... yes..." Her voice came out soft because she'd held it up to the chick beak instead of her mouth.
― No interest in music or performing in front of crowds?
"Yes, none at all...!"
― Goodness...
A sigh-like tone escaped, its intent unclear.
― Understood for now.
With that, the mic cut off abruptly. Murmurs then drifted from the judges' table.
By then, Gaeul was barely in her right mind.
Her Dragon Heart throbbed relentlessly. Immersed in the song, her senses had grown hazy. The immersion ran unnaturally deep. It was dangerous. She'd poured all her focus into holding back by force, only snapping out of it to find the song finished.
She asked herself: What was that feeling just now? If normal immersion was diving, she'd just stood on the edge of the deep sea. Dark and profound, something lurked in its depths that she mustn't sense—something unfamiliar, frightening, yet irresistibly curious...
"Hey."
A sharp voice sliced through her thoughts. Unfiltered by the mic, raw and direct. It was Jeong Yu-ran's.
Startled, Gaeul whipped around to the back of the stage.
"Who are you?"
"..."
"Why cover your chest during the intro? Wasn't it to show off?"
"..."
"Can't you hear me? Why won't you answer?"
Gaeul stayed silent. The fun of being teased had been fleeting.
They'd been friends until recently, but things had grown awkward lately. Even small talk felt strained, and now her tone dripped with edge. The eleven-year-old felt repulsed.
"Your voice sounds familiar."
"..."
"...Whatever. You sing well. So, how about picking a different song?"
What was this about?
"This one's really special to me. It's the song my mom who passed last year loved..."
Gaeul frowned beneath her mask. They'd been in the same club for half a year.
Jeong Yu-ran's mom, whom she'd said passed last year, had visited the clubroom several times with snacks. Meaning she was very much alive.
Gaeul guessed Jeong Yu-ran picked this song because she'd covered it in a public audition back when living in Korea, debuting into entertainment that way. It had trended once. She was fishing for another hit.
"Please. It's so precious to me. You have family too, right?"
The more Jeong Yu-ran spoke, the stranger Gaeul felt.
"..."
"My mom... she always played that song in the car. I thought it was annoying back then. But after she passed, it sounded so good all of a sudden. So, so good that I'd cry listening to it every day."
Just stop.
Why spin such detailed lies? Listening, Gaeul glimpsed the depths of a friend she'd known for ages. It scared her a little.
"So yield it to me. Please."
But Jeong Yu-ran wouldn't quit easily.
Her voice was polite, pleading. Gaeul wondered briefly: Was that clubroom aunt her stepmom? "Hey, say something. Please. Yeah? Yeah...?" As Gaeul's hand twitched, the tone grew more desperate. "Please. Can't you hear me...? You might not know me well, but I'm begging. I really need this..." Gaeul's resolve wavered. Maybe a little talk wouldn't hurt? As she turned cautiously—
"Fucking bitch. Still pretending not to hear. Ears sewn shut or what...?"
Gaeul jolted. She doubted her ears.
Hurt followed the curse. They'd smiled and chatted before. She never imagined this side.
"You're a real nasty kid."
Unable to hold back revulsion, Gaeul spat it out. Perhaps recognizing the voice, Jeong Yu-ran's eyes twitched.
Meanwhile, Yoo Ji-tae in the waiting room wasn't watching the screen. He sensed it through walls. He'd heard the exchange too.
A fleeting thought: Kill her? A habit not fully erased. Like squashing an annoying bug.
Then—
Click—the mic cut their talk. Perfect timing. Both turned to the judges.
― Sorry to keep you waiting.
― We all agreed, but I took time thinking before deciding.
The director leaned into his mic. His voice boomed louder.
― Chick Mask Cadet, hate to say this...
"Ah, yes."
― How about yielding that song to Rabbit Cadet?
Stunned, Gaeul stared at the director, then the other team leaders. They gawked at him too, shocked. "Director, what do you mean?" Yong Do-hee's blunt words hit the mic. Chaos erupted in the waiting room. "What the fuck is that bullshit?" Yeoreum watching the feed snapped. "Wait, the crowd's reacting weird." Calming her, Bom wore a rare irritated frown.
"P-Pardon? Uh, um..."
Gaeul stammered. Simultaneously, "Huh? What did you say?!" Jeong Yu-ran's delighted squeal burst out.
Promotion Bureau Director 'Haley Laret' was a former Hollywood actor. This middle-aged white man had run an agency for over a decade after quitting acting.
He'd met countless top singers and actors. Varied in looks, gender, personality, talent—but elite entertainers shared one trait: immersion depths incomparable to normals.
Take singers: Some had low ranges, gravelly voices weak live. Yet they immersed with otherworldly depth using those voices. It floored listeners.
Deep immersion carries narrative.
Just now proved it. Forgetting it was judging was the start. The stage faded—floor, lights, dark, curtains blurring away. Left: one singing girl and the twilight cliff her voice conjured. Precarious, on the verge of falling.
He clenched and unclenched his fist.
Dizzying. Sweat slicked his palm.
Suddenly, stiff posture and awkward gestures held story. Rigid body, clumsy hands—all meaningful...
What backstory births such song?
The director wondered unconsciously, yanked back to reality as the song ended, like grabbed by the nape.
After killing the mic, he subtly asked Yong Do-hee about the chick-masked girl. She shook her head. Recalling the festival's purpose, he sighed again.
Anyway, with vocals like that, the bureau could hype it bigger.
― How about yielding that song to Rabbit Cadet?
He tossed bait sloppily amid the chaos. Team leaders panicked, faces screaming 'Have you lost it?'
― Instead, how about the school song?
"Insane," they gasped harder. Some prodded: What the hell?
Lair's school song was special.
Composed the night pre-rank 3 superhuman 'Dragonean' died in the Great War, it cried hope and struggle.
Edited from her watch recording, it served as Lair's anthem. Unlike peppy old tunes, it was lyrical, modern.
The Academic Affairs side opposed reproductions, to preserve Dragonean's nobility in sacrificing for many supers.
Thus, in Lair's media-saturated events, few official renditions since founding.
Prime chance for cadets to shine.
But Gaeul shrugged it off. She kept her guardian's warning close. Bom's words rang true lately: Happiness without fame.
Plus, she liked this song. Practice made it better.
"Uh... so can I just do my prepared song...?"
Rejecting it baffled some leaders. Pass on that? Their faces said. Yong Do-hee got it, but her fiddling hand looked wistful.
― Of course.
"Really?"
― But let me ask once more. Chick Mask Cadet, do you grasp this opportunity?
"Yes, I do. I'm fine...!"
― Understood.
The chance vanished. The decisive director wouldn't budge now, even if begged.
As leaders reeled from the abrupt deal, Rabbit Mask shot her hand up from behind.
"Then, could I sing the school song?"
Did she not see her own overreach? Or too tempting to probe? Rabbit raised her voice desperately.
"I can do it well...!"
Silence gripped the judges. Impulse-fueled, Rabbit second-guessed her mistake.
No, enthusiasm would win favor. But quiet dragged.
Hah... The director's hollow laugh broke it. He spoke.
― Love the enthusiasm. Really. Skip the school song—try another?"
"Y-Yes...? Like what...?"
― Your choice. Festival entry went to Chick Mask Cadet.
"..."
Defeat declared.
Rabbit froze, hands shaking, head dropping. Sobs leaked from the mic.
Jeong Yu-ran wept with sniffles.
Why's she like that? Gaeul panicked.
But bureau staff mastered people. A kid's raw greed, poorly masked as zeal, fooled no one. Leaders' faces hardened. They saw fake tears.
Yong Do-hee, bitter under her tongue, spoke into the mic.
― Calm down. You sing well. You'll perform at the festival no issue.
"Ah, sob... Yes..."
― Cadet.
The director now. A high-level superhuman, he'd overheard their talk by accident.
― One question.
"Yes...?"
The director mocked the crying girl.
― Guess Mom preferred the school song?
Rabbit flinched. Sniffles cut off. Unnaturally. Judges tsked.
― Or not?
"N-No. I mean, yes. She liked the school song more..."
Laughter boomed through speakers.
A faint, clear mutter followed.
― How far's she gonna push?