Mina's voice was a storm tearing through the sterile quiet of the studio.
It was raw, primal, and utterly out of place. She wasn't just singing "Monster"; she was channeling the defiant rage that had birthed it. Her eyes were locked on Yoo-jin, a silent communication passing between them through the thick studio glass. I trust you. I am with you.
Director Yoon sat bolt upright in his chair, his expression a mixture of pure, unadulterated shock and something else. Something Yoo-jin's system couldn't immediately label.
[Yoon Tae-min's 'Muse Drain' has been forcibly interrupted.]
[Target has rejected the skill's influence.]
The vampire had been starved. Mina had taken back control of her own emotional wellspring, and the director was reeling from the backlash.
Mina finished the verse with a final, guttural shout that echoed in the silence she left behind. She stood there, chest heaving, her small frame radiating a defiant energy that seemed to fill the entire booth.
Yoon Tae-min slowly turned his head, his piercing gaze shifting from Mina to Yoo-jin. The annoyance from before was gone, replaced by a cold, analytical curiosity.
"What," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, "was that?"
"That," Yoo-jin replied, his voice calm and even, "was a reset. My artist was getting lost in the character. I had her reconnect with her own core identity."
It was a perfect piece of producer jargon, a plausible-sounding excuse that masked the truth of his rebellion. He was speaking the director's language to hide his own war.
Yoon stared at him for a long, silent moment. Yoo-jin could practically feel the director's S-Rank skill probing him, searching for lies, for weaknesses. But Yoo-jin's own conviction was absolute. He was protecting his artist. It was the truest thing in his world right now, and the director's skill found no deception to latch onto.
"Her 'core identity'," Yoon mused, a strange, thin smile touching his lips. "Is a monster?"
"Her core identity is a survivor," Yoo-jin corrected. "And survivors know how to fight."
The director looked back at Mina, who was still standing tall in the booth, waiting. He saw not a timid girl anymore, but a fighter.
"Fine," Yoon said, a new, unsettling glint in his eye. "Let's see what the 'survivor' can do. Back to the top of 'Echo'. From the first line."
The change was immediate. Miraculous.
When Mina sang the first line this time, her voice was different. The fragility was still there, but it was no longer the fragility of a victim. It was the fragility of a porcelain cup that had been shattered and glued back together. The cracks were part of its beauty, part of its strength.
She sang with a quiet, heartbreaking defiance. She wasn't asking for pity. She was stating a fact. I am broken, and I am still here.
Yoo-jin watched the director's face. The man's eyes were wide, his body leaning forward, utterly captivated. He was witnessing not just a performance, but a transformation.
He was also, Yoo-jin realized with a jolt, trying to feed again.
['Muse Drain' is attempting to re-establish a connection.]
[Target's reinforced emotional state is providing moderate resistance.]
The director's skill was latching onto Mina's newfound strength, trying to siphon it, to taste this new, more potent flavor of her talent. But Yoo-jin's "reset" had given her a shield. The drain was less effective.
But it was still happening.
[Name: Choi Mina]
[Status: Emotional Stamina at 62% and slowly falling.]
It was a battle of attrition. Mina could resist him for a while, but eventually, he would wear her down. Yoo-jin couldn't just have her sing "Monster" every ten minutes. He needed a new weapon. He needed to go on the offensive.
He thought about Ghost's words. He consumes potential. What if he could give him something else to consume?
A reckless, insane idea sparked in his mind. His own SSS-Rank potential. The roaring, chaotic energy inside him that he barely understood. What if he could project it? What if he could offer himself as a target to draw the vampire's attention?
It was a crazy gamble based on a power he didn't understand. But watching Mina's stamina tick down, he knew he had to try.
He closed his eyes. He ignored the studio, the director, everything. He focused inward, on the core of his own being. He thought about the flash of memory, the man in the hospital. He thought about the raw, untamed power his system claimed he possessed.
He tried to "push" it out. To create a signal. To make himself a brighter beacon in the hidden world of the Awakened.
[Unidentified SSS-Rank energy signature detected.]
[Activating 'Fated Stage' without a simulation prompt is not recommended.]
[Warning: Uncontrolled release of potential may lead to skill corruption or mental collapse.]
He ignored the system's warnings. He pushed harder.
He felt a sudden, sharp pain behind his eyes, like a switch being flipped in his brain. The world, which had been purely visual, suddenly expanded. He could hear it.
Not with his ears. With his mind.
He could hear the low, steady hum of the studio's electrical grid. He could hear the faint, chaotic buzz of the Wi-Fi signal in the air.
And he could hear them. The people.
Mina's soul had a sound. It was a soft, melodic hum, like a cello playing in a quiet room, currently laced with a sharp, defiant metallic ring.
Director Yoon's soul was a discordant, hungry sound. It was a low, grating thrum, like a machine that was always grinding, always consuming. He could hear the 'hooks' of the 'Muse Drain' skill, a series of high-pitched, questing frequencies reaching out towards Mina.
He had unlocked a new sense. A synesthesia of the soul.
And he realized, with a sudden, shocking clarity, what he had to do. His own potential had a sound, too. It was a chaotic, roaring static, a wall of white noise he had never been able to perceive before.
He focused his will. He gathered that static, that roaring energy. And he aimed it.
Not at the director. But at Mina.
He wrapped his own sound around hers, creating a shield of pure, chaotic potential. A buffer.
In the physical world, nothing had happened. He was just standing silently behind the director. But in the invisible world of skills and souls, he had just thrown himself in front of a bullet.
He felt the director's 'hooks' hit his static shield. He felt them probe, confused, and then latch on.
A wave of vertigo and nausea washed over him as he felt his own energy being pulled, siphoned. It was a deeply unpleasant, invasive feeling, like a psychic leech attaching to his brain.
[You are now the target of 'Muse Drain'.]
[Your SSS-Rank potential is providing high-level resistance.]
[Mental Fortitude is rapidly decreasing.]
But it was working.
He looked at Mina through the glass. The strain on her face eased. Her voice grew stronger, clearer. Her stamina drain had stopped. She was free.
[Name: Choi Mina]
[Status: Emotional Stamina at 65% and stable.]
Yoo-jin, however, felt like he was about to pass out. The world was tilting. The director, sensing a new, richer source of power, was draining him with a voracious hunger.
[Mental Fortitude at 30%... 25%... 20%...]
He had to end this. Now.
"Director," Yoo-jin said, his voice coming out as a strained rasp. "That's the take. The fourth one. It's perfect."
Yoon, lost in the intoxicating flood of SSS-Rank potential he was consuming, barely heard him. "No... one more..."
"No," Yoo-jin said, his voice gaining a hard, commanding edge. He reached past the director and slammed his hand down on the talk-back button. "Mina, that's a wrap. Great work. You're done for the day."
The sound of his voice, and the authority in it, finally broke the director's trance. The psychic 'hooks' retracted. The draining sensation stopped.
Yoo-jin stumbled back, catching himself on the wall, his vision swimming with black spots. The room was spinning.
[Mental Fortitude at 15%. Warning: Critical Level.]
Director Yoon slowly turned in his chair, a strange, dazed look on his face. He looked like a man waking from a powerful dream. He looked at Yoo-jin, then at Mina, then back at Yoo-jin. A flicker of suspicion, of deep confusion, crossed his features. He had tasted something extraordinary, and he didn't know where it had come from.
"The session is over," Yoo-jin repeated, his voice shaking slightly. "We're leaving."
He pushed himself off the wall and walked on unsteady legs to the vocal booth, opening the door for Mina.
She looked at him, her face filled with concern. "Producer-nim, your nose is bleeding."
He touched his face. His fingers came away wet and crimson. He hadn't even felt it.
He had won. He had protected her. He had fought a vampire in an invisible war and survived.
But as he guided Mina out of the sterile, white studio, he felt the director's eyes on his back. They were no longer the eyes of a predator looking at its prey.
They were the eyes of a connoisseur who had just had a taste of the finest vintage in the world, and was now utterly, insatiably obsessed with finding the source.