Kidnapped Dragons

– Did you say you had no experience with concerts, Miss Baby Chicken?

A benevolent yet powerful voice echoed through the mic. Kaeul carefully nodded and belatedly lifted the mic to reply, “Ye, yes…”. She accidentally placed it at where the beak of her mask was instead of her actual mouth, so her voice started off soft.

– And you’re not interested in delving deeper into music, or standing in front of a crowd?

“Yes yes. Not really…!”

– Dear me…

It was hard to discern the intention behind his voice which escaped his mouth like a sigh.

– Thanks for that.

The mic was quickly turned off and the judges started chatting to themselves.

Meanwhile, Kaeul was almost out of her mind. Her dragon heart could be felt pulsing restlessly. Immersing herself into the song left her feeling dizzy and the immersion was deeper than expected, to a dangerous degree. She had her hands full trying to restrain her emotions and by the time she came to herself, the song had already ended.

She asked herself – what kind of feeling was that? If immersion was like submersion, Kaeul was practically steps away from the deep waters just then. Hidden deep inside that dark place was something she shouldn’t dare try to feel. It was unfamiliar and frightening, yet it made her curious…

“Oi.”

A sharp voice shattered her line of thought. The voice didn’t go through a mic and her normal voice was therefore revealed. It was the voice of Jung Yuran.

With a flinch, Kaeul turned towards the back of the stage.

“Who are you?”

“…”

“Why did you cover your chest when you were bowing? Did you do that on purpose?”

“…”

“Hello, can you hear me? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Kaeul didn’t reply. The slight enjoyment felt while teasing her just then didn’t last for long. They were friends until recently and it had only been a few days that they became distant. Simple conversations would be awkward already and yet the voice of the other party already sounded like a blade.

The young 11-year old child felt repulsed by it.

“I think I heard your voice somewhere.”

“…”

“…Well, whatever. You were good at singing. So I was wondering, but can you just choose a different song?”

What was this about?

“This is a very special song to me. It’s what my mother liked the most before passing away last year…”

Kaeul frowned inside the mask. She had spent half a year with her in the same society.

Jung Yuran’s mother, who apparently passed away last year according to her, had come to the club room several times to give them food. In other words, she was without a doubt, alive and kicking.

The reason Jung Yuran chose this song was because she had debuted on TV by singing a cover for this song in an open audition, while she was living in Korea. Kaeul guessed that she was simply trying to use the same strategy again, since it had worked before.

“Please. It’s a very precious song for me. You have a family as well right?”

So Jung Yuran continuing with her words put Kaeul in an increasingly weirder mood.

“…”

“I… My mother used to play that song everyday when we were in the car. Back then, I didn’t like the song and said it was too noisy. But after she passed away, the song started sounding prettier for some reason. I liked it, so, so much, that I cried everyday listening to it.”

She wanted her to stop.

What in the world was in her mind that she could give such a detailed lie? Listening to her speak, Kaeul felt like she could see the bottom of her friend whom she had known for quite a long time, and was slightly scared.

“So please let me sing it. Please.”

But Jung Yuran didn’t give up that easily and her voice was polite and desperate. It made Kaeul think about a different hypothesis. Maybe the old lady that came to the club room was her step-mother?

“Hey, can you please answer me. Please. Nn? Nn…?” When Kaeul started fidgeting with her fingers, the voice turned ever so desperate. “Please. Can you hear me…? You might not know me, but I’m really begging you. I’m seriously desperate…”

Her heart wavered. Maybe it’s fine to have a chat at least? Thinking that, Kaeul was about to slowly turn towards her again.

“F*cking bitch. As if you can’t fu*cking hear it. Are your ears clogged or what…”

Kaeul was startled and doubted her ears.

And after taking in those swear words, she felt offended. The two of them had been smiling and chatting when they were together, and she had no idea that her friend was the type to say such things.

“You. You’re a really bad person, aren’t you.”

Unable to withstand the repulsive feeling, Kaeul voiced it out loud. In that instant, perhaps after hearing a familiar voice, Jung Yuran twitched her eyes.

Meanwhile, Yu Jitae was in the waiting room watching the two of them not through the screen but through the walls with his own eyes. He also heard Kaeul’s conversation with Jung Yuran.

The question that popped up in his mind was, ‘How about I kill that child.’ It was based on a habit that still slightly remained in him, like how people stepped and killed insects that irritated them.

It was then.

Tukk- A sound from the mic cut their conversation. It was a timely interjection and caused the eyes of the two participants to turn back towards the judges.

– Ah, sorry for making you wait.

– Everyone had a similar opinion but I was thinking for a bit and only just made the decision.

The director leaned towards the mic and his voice thus became slightly louder.

– Cadet Baby Chicken. I’m sorry to say this to you.

“Ah, yes.”

– How about you give the song to Cadet Rabbit?

Surprised, Kaeul stared at the director before turning her gaze over towards the team leaders. Those team leaders also appeared surprised as they turned towards the director. “Sir, what do you mean?” said Yong Dohee openly, and her voice resonated through the mic.

Even the waiting room was in a fuss. “No, wait, what the fuc*ing dogshit is he saying?” Yeorum shouted while watching the rehearsal stage with a screen.

“Wait for now. Others aren’t agreeing with him either,” said Bom to calm her down, but there was also a rare look of annoyance in her expression.

“Sorry? Uh, uhh…”

Kaeul didn’t know what to say. At the same time, “Huh? What was that…?!”, a joyful scream escaped Jung Yuran’s lips.

*

Hailey Larrett, the director of the PR team, was originally a Hollywood actor. The middle-aged white man spent dozens of years in the industry even after his retirement as an actor, as he continued his career as a representative of an agency.

He met countless actors and singers that had reached the pinnacle. Although their appearance, gender, personality and talent all differed, the top celebrities all had one thing in common. It was that the depth of their immersion was incomparably deeper than normal people.

For example, there were singers who couldn’t sing at a very high pitch. There were those who had murky voices, as well as people who couldn’t sing powerfully at concerts. Despite such limitations to their singing abilities, they were on a different league when it came to immersing themselves in their songs and tended to frighten the listeners with their songs.

A deep immersion brought with it a story.

What happened just then was the same. Forgetting to evaluate her was only the beginning. It was followed by the stage feeling distant. The floor, spotlights, darkness, curtains – they all turned fuzzy, leaving behind nothing but a singing girl and a midnight cliff formed by the girl’s voice. She appeared to be in such a perilous situation, where she could fall with one misstep.

He repeatedly closed and opened his fist. It made him dizzy and made his palms sweaty.

Even her movement which he had found awkward at the start, began bringing out a story. Her stiff and rigid movements and the awkward gestures appeared to be representing something.

What in the world had happened to her that she could sing such a song?

The director felt doubtful and when the song came to an end, he was pulled back to reality.

After turning the mic off, he sneaked a question about the identity of the baby chicken mask to Team Leader Yong Dohee. However, she shook her head in response and after reflecting on the main theme of the singing contest, he had no choice but to heave yet another sigh.

In any case, with this kind of vocalist around, it should be fine for him to increase the scale on his own accord as the director of the PR team.

– How about you give the song to Cadet Rabbit?

He threw in a hint but it seemed that he was in too much of a hurry that it wasn’t clear enough. The team leaders were staring at him with expressions that were asking, ‘Has he gone mad…?’.

– Instead, I would like to ask you to sing the school song.

In response to his next words, they were even more startled and exclaimed, ‘He’s really gone mad.’ One of the team leaders dissuaded him from the side.

Lair’s school song was special.

It was the song written by the former Rank 3, ‘Dragonian’, the day before she died in the Great War, and was a song that screamed for hope and the will to fight back.

After editing the song which remained in her watch, Lair decided to use it as their school song. Unlike normal school songs that were cheerful and old, it was lyrical and modern.

The education department wasn’t keen on overusing the song. It was in hopes of keeping the loftiness of Dragonaian who had sacrificed herself to protect numerous superhumans.

Because of that, the number of times this song had been sung publicly after the foundation of Lair could be counted with one’s fingers.

This was the greatest opportunity to make their name known, since all sorts of events at Lair were broadcasted worldwide.

However, Kaeul wasn’t that interested. The child always kept her guardian’s warning to heart, and recently she had begun understanding what Bom meant when she said that it was possible to be happy without becoming famous.

Besides, she liked the current song and became more fond of it after practising it.

“Uhh… but can I just sing what I prepared then…?”

When Kaeul rejected the offer, the team leaders and other staff members needed some time to process her words. She’s turning that down? Their expressions appeared to be asking that.

Yong Dohee respected her opinion, but still fidgeted with the mic with regret.

– Of course.

“Ah, really?”

– Let me ask you this just in case. Cadet Baby Chicken mask. Do you know what kind of opportunity this is?

“Yes yes. I do, but I’m fine…!”

– I see.

The opportunity was now gone. The director was a decisive person and wouldn’t listen to her even if Kaeul started begging him in the future.

While the team leaders were still astonished by the shocking deal that could have been made just then, the rabbit mask suddenly shot her hand up from the back.

“In that case, can I please try singing the school song?”

Was she not aware that it was an absurd question, or was the deal too attractive that she had to try poking it at least? The rabbit mask desperately raised her voice.

“I, can do it…!”

The judges turned silent. The rabbit mask, who had emotionally lifted her hand up, reflected back and wondered if she had made a mistake just then.

No. They’ll simply find her enthusiastic.

That’s what she thought, but the silence continued for longer than usual.

Haha… Soon, the director’s empty laugh broke the silence as he opened his mouth.

– It’s great that you’re enthusiastic. It is, but rather than the school song, how about you try a different song?

“So, sorry…? What song…?”

– That’s what you need to figure out yourself, since the song you applied for was given to the cadet wearing the baby chicken mask.

“…”

His words signalled her defeat.

The rabbit mask was silent. She hesitated and her hands started trembling. Soon, she lowered her head and a sobbing voice started leaving the speaker.

Jung Yuran was weeping.

What’s wrong with her? Kaeul was flustered.

However, the staff members of the Public Relations Team were all masters at dealing with other people. The dark greed of the child was unable to be decorated by simply calling it an excessive enthusiasm.

The faces of the team leaders turned rigid. They knew how those were fake tears.

Hiding the bitter feeling on her tongue, Yong Dohee spoke through the mic.

– Please calm down. You’re good at singing, so you should have no problem participating in the contest.

“Ah, huuk… yes…”

– Ah, Cadet.

This time, the director opened his mouth. He was a fairly high-level superhuman, and had accidentally heard the conversation between Jung Yuran and Kaeul.

– I have a question.

“Yes…?”

The director scoffed and asked the crying child.

– I assume your mother must have loved the school song even more?

Hearing that, the rabbit mask flinched. Her weeping voice also stopped for a second in an unnatural manner so one of the judges clicked their tongue.

– Didn’t she?

“N, no. I mean, yes. She liked the school song more…”

‘Hahaha’, she laughed through the mic.

Soon, a small yet clear whisper escaped someone’s mouth.

– She’s still going on?