One Kick Girl — Chapter 40: "Kick Against the Ghost Beat"
The skyline pulsed like a heartbeat.
Each thrum sent neon lights flickering in rhythmic waves — a visual drumline for a battle no mortal should witness.
Raon stood in the center of the street, hoodie fluttering from the sonic turbulence, as Echo-4 phased between corporeal and waveform.
Every movement left afterimages of music sheets and flickering treble clefs in the air.
> "You fight the beat," it said, voice layered with countless singers. "But the beat is eternal."
Raon cracked her neck.
"Cool story. I'm eternal boredom."
She launched forward, the ground rippling underfoot like a subwoofer skin. Her first kick tore through the spectral body — but the phantom reformed instantly, shifting pitch.
The air screamed back at her.
A shockwave of melody threw Raon through a row of vending machines. Cans of neon soda rained down in slow motion, labels spinning: "Soundburst Energy — Feel the Bass!"
Raon caught one midair, cracked it open, and took a sip.
"Not bad. Kinda tastes like revenge."
---
Echo-4 extended its arms — hundreds of spectral chords burst outward, striking like lightning.
Shion's voice crackled over the comms.
> "Raon! It's replicating using harmonic echoes! You have to cancel its primary note!"
Raon blinked. "Cancel its note? What am I, a DJ?"
> "No! You need to find the root frequency and—"
BOOM.
Raon dropkicked the air itself.
The collision ripped a hole through soundspace, collapsing frequencies like falling dominoes. The shockwave exploded outward, carving a crater the shape of a musical note.
> "Root frequency found," Raon said, wiping her nose. "It's pain."
---
But Echo-4 only laughed — a chorus of male, female, robotic, and childlike tones, overlapping into something inhumanly perfect.
> "We are the ghosts of every lost song. Every unfinished dream. Every muted voice. What are you, mortal?"
Raon yawned. "Someone who doesn't do sequels."
Her foot blurred — one kick, no wind-up, no sound.
But instead of an explosion…
Everything stopped.
The city froze mid-beat. Sound died completely.
A plastic bag fluttered silently. A bird hung in mid-flight, wings unmoving.
Shion's scanner flatlined.
"Raon… what did you just—"
Raon blinked. "I dunno. Kicked too quiet?"
---
The silence cracked.
From within it, Echo-4's form re-emerged — smaller, weaker, like static on the edge of existence.
> "How… how did you…?"
Raon looked bored. "You were too loud. I just inverted it."
The phantom staggered backward, voice glitching. "Then… hear this—"
Its body exploded into chorus mode — countless echoes merging into a final, desperate crescendo.
The sound was so massive, it made the sky bend.
Raon stepped forward once. Her right foot glowed faintly, coated not in energy — but anti-sound.
"Final verse," she whispered.
KICK.
No light. No thunder.
Just — nothing.
Then — the world rebooted.
The city lights came back one by one.
Billboards resumed commercials.
Shion blinked, looking around.
"…You erased the sound of a concept. That shouldn't be possible."
Raon shrugged. "Guess I'm loud in my own way."
---
She turned toward the skyline, stretching her leg.
> "What's next, a ghost mixtape?"
Shion's scanner pinged.
> "Actually… the data remnants are reorganizing above orbit. There's… another signal. Stronger. Layered."
Raon groaned. "Let me guess. Echo-5?"
Shion hesitated.
> "Not quite. This one calls itself—"
The transmission interrupted her with a faint, familiar jingle:
> "♪ YOU KICKED THE WRONG BEAT, RAON. ♪"
Raon frowned. "…Oh no. Not her."