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Chapter 15 : You’re Interesting
Gocheok Sky Dome. The biggest indoor venue in the country, max capacity twenty-five thousand. Today, twenty thousand people were here for Seol Ha-ran’s concert.
“...That’s a lot.”
Two hours before doors opened, the plaza was already packed with early fans. The internet was right—get here as early as possible.
“On-site ticket line forms here!”
A staffer shouted from a distance. Fans who’d been wandering around taking photos converged in neat rows in seconds. It looked like new recruits snapping to attention, and I couldn’t help smiling.
Ẅе́ b̀n о̂ v ė l̈ Ẽ nümа̂
“They said it was like eight-hundred-thirty-one to one.”
Ha-ran didn’t hold concerts often, so the ticket war had been brutal. For fans, today might never come again. Everyone in line wore the same excited look.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Was it really okay to take this?
Beating odds like that for a ticket—Hye-jin had said she got it from someone and wasn’t going anyway, but still. I glanced around; there were more women than I’d expected. I’d assumed a female singer would draw mostly men. Wrong call.
“Guests, please use the box office on the second floor.”
After nearly an hour in line, I flashed the QR code Hye-jin sent me and got that response.
E n u m̊a.іd̂
Guest. I looked closer. In tiny letters, it said “Staff Seat.”
If it was a staff seat, shouldn’t they ID me? Even I knew that much. I almost called Hye-jin, but decided to try the second-floor counter first.
“Confirmed. As a guest, you can use the free lounge until the show starts. If you need anything, just ask.”
No hassle at all. Whoever gave Hye-jin the ticket must’ve given the heads-up. And there was only one person who could pull that off.
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“Did they know each other from before?”
Close enough to hand out a staff seat. They were both middle schoolers, so it wasn’t impossible—but something felt off.
W̌ е̃ bň оv̀e l. Ӗ nu̇m̌ a
No way…
Only possibility that fit was if my sister was a magical girl like Seol Ha-ran. Too much of a leap. They probably just met by chance and hit it off.
The staff seat was on the second level. Like in a movie theater, the best spot wasn’t too close or too far. Up front, the stage could block the singer; too far, and you might as well be watching a screen. From here, I could take in the whole stage with a slight tilt of my head. The section was small—maybe ten seats—and aside from my center seat, most were empty. It felt like I’d rented the place out. “Guest seat” didn’t even cover it; “VIP box” was more like it.
I stood and glanced down. As start time neared, empty rows filled up.
That’s insane.
Twenty thousand is just a number until you see it. From my level up to the fourth, people kept pouring in. Placards, light sticks, a patchwork of color like a giant living mural.
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“Hope she’s okay.”
Standing on a stage like this would crush anyone without nerves of steel. All the more for a girl this young.
The house lights went dark. The chatter faded, and a bright beam hit center stage.
“Thank you for coming to my concert.”
Forty thousand eyes focused as one. A single girl stepped into the light.
White blouse with frills, black pleated skirt. Black hair braided neatly down her back. Calm, mature styling overall.
E nu m ӑ
But it wasn’t the outfit that made Seol Ha-ran look grown. It was the way she stood. The way she spoke. The way she looked at the crowd. Her own steady confidence kept her from shrinking in a sea of adults. If anything, she dominated them.
In the original story, Ha-ran was “a famous singer,” but like most settings, it never really showed it. The plot always flowed around Unibel, casting her as the rival-ally Rania. People loved her because the story said so. Seeing her like this, though, made it obvious: Seol Ha-ran was a singer who could pull in anyone—young or old—with her voice.
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“We’ll take a twenty-minute break!”
After about an hour on stage, Ha-ran announced a rest. The house lights came up.
“All right. Time to move.”
Destination: backstage, where Ha-ran was resting. A perk reserved for people with special tickets.
Ё ńǔ m̆ а. іd́
***
“You were great! Keep that energy for the second half.”
“Don’t talk to me. You’re annoying.”
She’d just come offstage. Her manager, more amped than the fans, buzzed around asking about her condition, saying it was good she’d done the show, on and on—so she brushed him off. Five years in the industry and he was somehow worse than rookies.
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Maybe I should change managers.
Pushing away the people coming at her, Ha-ran looked up toward the guest seats on level two. If that call from a few days ago had been real, her favorite sunbae wouldn’t be in that seat—someone else would be.
Е̃n̂um̈ а̂_.iď.
“I don’t like this.”
The one person she wanted to see wasn’t here. Some rando had taken the spot. If things had gone her way, she’d be chatting happily in the backstage lounge right now.
Then she remembered: a staff seat could be used to come backstage.
The thought of some stranger showing up, calling himself a fan, already gave her a headache.
“They’re all annoying.”
On impulse, she kicked a plastic chair. Staff prepping for the next set jerked in surprise, then, at her flat “Mind your business,” went right back to work.
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“What the—?”
Not everyone, though. One person didn’t move.
Unfamiliar face. No staff badge—the kind everyone had to wear to be allowed back here.
She knew instantly. This was the guy who’d come in place of her sunbae.
“Hi.”
The man waved casually. Mid-to-late twenties, the kind of face you could pass on the street and never remember. Clothes, plain as could be. Normally, Ha-ran wouldn’t have spared him a glance.
E n u m ӓ
But she didn’t look away. She couldn’t.
What is with this guy?
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People who met her outside of work split into two types: trembling so hard they could barely talk, or looking down on her because she was younger than they expected.
He was neither. He dropped to her eye level—lower than his by a few inches—and smiled. He’d dealt with kids smaller than him. A lot.
Whatever.
What mattered was that he’d invaded her personal space. Ha-ran wasn’t the type to forgive people who walked into her zone uninvited.
W̊е̂ bṅ о̀ v́е̊ l Ӗnum̄â
“Kneel. Right now.”
She spoke clearly, each word crisp so there could be no mistake.
“Yeah, no. Not my thing.”
He gave her an apologetic smile.
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So it wasn’t a fluke. Her power didn’t work on him.
From experience, there were two cases. One: the other person had power like a magical girl. But she’d never heard of a man becoming one, so—pass. Two: he wasn’t human.
Wе b n ŏ v̂_èľ Enǔm а
A mimic monster?
Rare, but they existed—monsters evolved to blend in, trick a magical girl, then strike. Until they revealed themselves, they slipped past radar. Smart, high potential—mimics started at Comet-class.
If he was an undiscovered Comet-class monster, even Ha-ran couldn’t guarantee a win.
Her eyes sharpened. If a monster had come straight to her, why? If the plan was to attack, it made more sense to hide among the crowd and wait for an opening.
And how did he even get the invitation I sent to sunbae?
There were more holes. She’d sent invitations before. They were ignored every time. This time, for once, her sunbae had asked for a ticket. The one person who never begged for anything.
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Had he been tricked? No. The sunbae she knew wouldn’t fall for something so cheap. Did someone steal his phone and call her, pretending to be him? That was reaching. Maybe the ticket was always meant for someone else and the guy just drifted here by chance? If so, security would’ve stopped him at the door.
“What do you want?”
“...Want?”
“You came all the way here because you had something to say, right?”
After circling through possibilities, Ha-ran decided to probe him. If he was a mimic, he’d slip somewhere. Monsters, underneath the human skin, tended to see people as beneath them.
The second she was sure—she’d strike first.
Е̌n ũm̃ ӓ_. íd̀
“Well, yeah, I did come to tell you some—huh?”
The man’s head turned toward the seating beyond backstage. Reflexively, she followed his gaze.
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Backstage wasn’t meant to be visible from the stands. From here, if you looked “out,” all you saw was wall. And yet he stared like he could see through it.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
His mutter came flat. The vague smile vanished from his mouth.
“What the hell is—”
Ӗ n̈ ǔ m̀а . і̆d̄
Before she could ask what he saw, a soft chime rang.
The ring on her left ring finger flashed blue.
A monster was about to appear.
“Break the border of the world, and another world will open.”
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The promise spilled from her lips faster than thought. The twilight sky turned blue; space split. The noisy world went quiet. People blurred to mist and faded out.
The Otherworld Barrier.
Е̄ ñü ṁа_. īd
The domain of magical girls. No one entered without permission. A battlefield where you risked your life. Their workplace.
“You’re not going to transform?”
The man asked like it was the most normal thing in the world. No teasing, no mockery—just concern.
“You’re interesting.”
Ha-ran smiled.
How long had it been since someone not a magical girl managed to catch her interest?
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