INTRO: “VOLT” (2/6)
WORD COUNT: 1.2k // SUMMARY: In which Stratagem Entertainment gains a new trainee.
“Miss Bae?”
Silence.
Konoe cleared his throat. “Miss Bae?”
There was the sound of something heavy landing on the ground, and a crimson light blinked balefully at him from the doorway. Konoe began to shiver, but caught himself just in time. It wouldn’t be wise to show weakness in front of her. “We’re expecting Ms Hwang in a few minutes’ time. Are our precautions ready?”
“Yes, of course.” A silhouette drifted out of the darkness, and Ms Bae hung in the air before him, two of her tentacles holding her aloft, a vaguely unfocused look in her eyes. It had been months since her bandages had been removed, but she was still adjusting to her new body. “I’m sorry, Mr Konoe. I’m not used to this name.” Her tentacles clung to the door frame, metal pincers skittering over the wood, and the sound was excruciating.
“That’s not a problem,” Konoe answered, doing his best to keep his voice level. “I will let you know when Ms Hwang arrives. Please be on standby. Should the situation escalate, I want her to be unconscious within seconds.”
“Of course.”
A few minutes passed, and Konoe checked his watch for what felt like the umpteenth time. Staring up at the ceiling, he settled back in his chair and reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Night had fallen over Seoul, and as Konoe opened the window to ventilate the room, a gentle cough broke the silence, prompting him to turn around. “Oh, Ms Bae.”
“She’s not here yet.”
“We’ll give her an hour.”
“An hour?” Ms Bae’s face went flat, which was her way of expressing annoyance (or so Konoe thought, based on his limited interactions with her). “I could be back in my laboratory by then.”
“I urge you to be patient, Ms Bae.” Konoe interlaced his fingers together, disentangled them, and lit a cigarette. “Ms Hwang has much potential, and to have her slip from our grasp would be bad for this enterprise.” There was no response from the other woman, and after the silence had dragged for a while, he changed the subject. “How goes your analysis of the sample?”
“It responds to intense heat and ultrasound,” reported Ms Bae, apparently relishing the chance to hold forth on this topic, and Konoe (in the privacy of his own mind) heaved a sigh of relief. “Now, we can’t lock her in a furnace whenever the organism acts up, so that leaves ultrasound. I’m thinking of a subdermal implant at the base of her -”
There was a knock on the door, and one of his men poked his head in. “Sir? She’s here.”
“Thank you,” Konoe told him. “Send her in.” As he tossed his half-finished cigarette out of the window, he turned to Ms Bae. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, Ms Bae, but perhaps we could continue this later.”
“Of course.”
As Ms Bae disappeared into an adjoining room, another one of his men poked his head in, testing the waters, and Konoe inclined his head. A few minutes later, Ms Hwang entered the room. She looked older than he’d expected, and there was a certain jut to her chin that Konoe recognized. She has something to prove. “Good evening, Ms Hwang.”
She looked at him, eyes narrowing at his slight accent, and Konoe tensed, though not enough to be perceptible. “I thought I was going to be auditioning in front of a panel of judges.”
“I’m afraid not,” said Konoe. “It’s just me.” Was it just his nicotine-addled nose, or did the moth-eaten carpets beneath his feet smell like they were burning? “Whenever you’re ready.”
The audition was over in five minutes. She could sing, she could dance, and she could rap, which was good, in Konoe’s humble opinion. Of course, he didn’t know anything about showbiz, but to him, a layman, she seemed like a decent performer. Maybe this harebrained scheme might actually work, he thought. Softly, trying his best to come off as genuine, he applauded. “Thank you, Ms Hwang. Welcome to Stratagem Entertainment.”
“That’s it?” Her disbelief was clear. “I thought - doesn’t it take a week - I didn’t -”
“I call the shots here,” Konoe said, running his hands over the pitted plastic of the table at which he was seated. “And, Ms Hwang, you have performed admirably. Congratulations.”
She smiled, then, lips curving upwards slowly as his words sank in, and Konoe almost felt bad for bursting her bubble. Nonetheless, he forged on. “However, Ms Hwang, there are some other things that your job will entail.”
The smile fell off her face, far quicker than it had appeared, and her hands formed small fists at her side. “What other things?”
Konoe raised his hands, as though seeking to calm her down. “We aren’t that sort of agency, Ms Hwang,” he replied, shaking his head. “No, of course not. We would never do such a thing.” Not to a metahuman who could reduce us all to cinders in a heartbeat, at least. “I speak, Ms Hwang, of your unique talents.”
The lights flickered, once, and Konoe glanced over his shoulder at the one-way mirror behind him, where Ms Bae was sitting. She would be watching this exchange, he knew, ready to sedate Ms Hwang and douse her with insulating gel. Not yet, he mouthed.
“What do you mean?”
“Ms Hwang, I belong to a very wealthy organization,” Konoe began, turning back to face her, and opened the suitcase which had been placed at his left elbow. Hundreds of neatly-pressed banknotes stared up at him, and he flipped it around neatly and brandished it at her. “We’re offering you half a billion won to be paid in instalments if you work with us.”
For a few moments, there was no response. It was likely that the younger woman had never seen such a vast sum of hard cash in her entire life. Konoe took advantage of her silence to continue. “It would be very suspicious for you to leave with a suitcase in your hand, though, so we could give you a million won to start with, denominated in ten-thousand-won banknotes.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew an unassuming white envelope, and slid it across the table at her. “You will be furnished with the best vocal coaches, dance instructors and choreographers that money can buy. Accommodation will be provided as well, and you can expect to have a sizable monthly budget as well on top of the half-billion won.”
Ms Hwang looked up at him, a strange glint in her eyes. “That’s an awful lot of money for just one singer.”
“You’re not just a singer, though, are you?” Konoe leaned forward. “You can rap, you can dance…” He adjusted his tie. “And, of course, you can electrocute people with nothing but a touch.” He spread his hands. “That, Ms Hwang, more than anything - that is what we are paying for.”
A few moments passed. Konoe swallowed.
“Fuck, do you think I’m stupid? Hell, yes!” Ms Hwang grinned, jumped to her feet, and stuffed the envelope into her pocket. “Where do I sign?”
Konoe exhaled. “I’ll get the contract.”