Kapitel 134: Chapter 134: The Story You Don't Know part 2
Fantagio, having rented out the Lincoln Center for the press conference, was in constant communication with Byungjun, checking the movement lines. Journalists, numbering over six hundred, waited at the entrance of the press conference with cameras and microphones, glancing at the Fantagio staff.
Among the journalists who came to capture Geon's entrance on camera, only the ones tasked with writing articles remained in the conference hall, while the rest waited outside, anxiously scanning their surroundings, indicating Geon's imminent arrival.
"Ah! Stop pushing!"
"Did you reserve this spot or something? Whoever grabs it owns it!"
"What? Mind your manners, which newspaper are you from?"
"From Paris Eclaire! And you?"
"CNV. You should at least maintain manners when covering in another country!"
"Gee, Kay isn't even an American citizen, where's this treatment coming from?"
"What? Are you done talking?"
"I am! What are you gonna do about it?"
As the journalists began to quarrel, about twenty security personnel rushed out of the hall and started marking a red line.
As the security pushed the journalists back, Son Lin walked through the middle path that was cleared for him.
With Son Lin's confident stride to the curb, the journalists' heads also turned in one direction, holding their breath for a few seconds.
A black Cadillac making a U-turn in front of Lincoln Center after turning from West 63rd Street onto Columbus Avenue stopped right where Son Lin was standing.
Journalists, holding their cameras, tensed up and flashed at the person stepping out of the car, only to shout out in confusion shortly after.
"What's going on, who is that!"
"Move! What a waste of film! Our newspaper only uses film!"
"Who's that dark figure? Where's Kay?"
Byungjun, looking bewildered at the flashes aimed at him, awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
As Byungjun stepped aside, Geon extended his leg out of the car, recognized by the journalists who incessantly flashed their cameras at him.
Geon, smiling but slightly furrowing his brow due to the intense flashing, waved his hand in greeting.
"Hello, everyone!"
As soon as Geon greeted, microphones were extended towards him from outside the line, with dozens appearing to be pushed towards him. Son Lin whispered in Geon's ear, advising him not to say anything and just keep waving since the same questions would be asked inside the conference hall anyway.
Nodding slightly, Geon pretended not to see the microphones extended towards him and waved his hand. The journalists, undeterred, shouted his name.
"Kay! Just a word, please!"
"Kay! Kay! Your digital single hit 11th on the Billboard in its first week, how do you feel! Kay! Kay!"
"It's expected to break into the top 10 next week! What are your thoughts?"
"Kay! A journalist from Korea here! A word for your Korean fans, please!!"
At the sound of familiar Korean, Geon, known to be gentle and considerate, flinched, but Lin quickly took his arm, whispering urgently.
"They'll swarm if you respond now. Let's go inside quickly."
Despite wanting to look back, Geon nodded at Lin's words and entered the conference hall, leaving the shouting journalists behind. When the journalists finally dispersed, a sky-blue Cadillac stopped opposite Lincoln Center.
An Albanian man at the wheel looked sternly at the journalists and commented.
"What's with that car? It definitely came out of Red Castle, huh? Russians taking a fancy to celebrities now? Judging by the number of journalists, he must be quite famous."
Aurel, watching the journalists through a Glock 19 pointed out the window, scoffed.
"Drop the pointless interest and check who's left in the car."
As the men in the car all looked out the left window towards the Cadillac, they soon saw a man stepping out of the driver's seat.
"That guy. Definitely one of Gregory's men, but he's a nobody; just a foot soldier who drives around."
Aurel, annoyed, tapped the window with his pistol, expressing frustration.
"Damn, a wasted trip. Can't just start shooting among these journalists; let's head back."
"Yes, boss. Oh?"
As the man was about to turn the car, he noticed something odd.
"What the...? A kid in the trunk… Oh! What?!"
"What's up? What is it?"
Aurel, following the man's gaze, spotted a pretty little girl opening the trunk cautiously and peering around, then hiding behind the car before slipping among the journalists.
"Is this how celebrities travel now, with kids in their trunks? Weird hobby."
The driver, pointing out the window, shouted.
"Ki, Kiska! Kiska Miocic!! That's Gregory's daughter, boss!"
"What, what?!"
Aurel, suddenly alert, leaned
closer to the window. The adorable little girl, wearing a white dress and a black duffle coat, stealthily moved from the trunk to the back of the car and then headed towards the journalists, slipping into the conference hall.
Seeing the girl making her way to the conference hall, Aurel grinned, revealing gold teeth, and cocked his gun.
"This is a bigger catch than taking out a mid-level boss. That girl is Kiska, the one Gregory dotes on? Good, we're kidnapping her."
The driver, turning his head quickly, protested.
"What? With so many journalists around?"
Aurel struck the man's head with the magazine part of his Glock 19, scolding him.
"Idiot, think a bit. How are we supposed to kidnap her here? We'll have to follow and grab her on the way back. What's the use of having a brain if you don't use it? Inform the guys in the car behind and get ready."
The man, rubbing his reddened forehead, got out of the car to check on his colleagues as Aurel watched Kiska disappear into the conference hall, flicking the safety of his Glock 19 on and off.
'Gregory Miocic. There's no place for Red Mafia in New York!'
Meanwhile, on West 65th Street, to the left of Lincoln Center, black sedans began to converge, parking along one side of the street.
What started as just two or three cars quickly exceeded twenty within ten minutes. Despite the growing number of vehicles, no one got out. A black man in a suit inside the lead car, parked at the turn towards Lincoln Center, checked the rearview mirror and picked up a walkie-talkie.
"Chzzt, Cars 6 and 7, head to the underground parking. Cars 8, 9, and 10, circle Lincoln Center and report back. Move out one at a time, every two minutes. Stay sharp, we're up against an Albanian Mafia boss."
After putting down the walkie-talkie, the tense man reached for a vibrating phone.
"Yes, this is Robert. Director Mitchell."
"Is the area secured?"
"Yes, it's secured."
"How many are they?"
"Three vehicles, a maximum of ten people."
"Any arms?"
"No machine guns observed, but it's not confirmed. Only handguns were seen."
"If necessary, call for S.W.A.T support."
"Understood."
"It's the President's order. Not even a scratch on Kay is permitted. It's best if he remains unaware of the operation."
"But, Director. They're currently hidden among hundreds of journalists. It's not easy to take action in advance."
"Then seize the opportunity as they move later."
"Understood. I'll report back."
Robert put down the phone and picked up the walkie-talkie again.
"Cars 14, 15, 16, 17, lie in ambush on the way back to Red Castle."
Watching four of the parked cars quickly maneuver past him, Robert sighed.
"To handle this without Kay knowing… Hmm."
* * *
About 15 minutes into the conference, questions about Geon's debut at 11th place on Billboard and breaking YouTube records in the shortest time were asked, and Geon calmly expressed his joy.
Despite the flurry of questions, journalists still clamored for a chance to speak. A journalist, given the floor by Lin, extended his head from his seat and loudly asked.
"In your recent song 'If I could change the world,' the lyricist wasn't listed as Kay. Who is Kiska Miocic?"
Lin, foreseeing the question, nodded at Geon, who then took a breath and softly responded into the microphone.
"She's the inspiration for this song, a sad person, and also a lovely person."
The vague answer caused the journalists to frown. Another journalist, seizing the opportunity, followed up.
"Kiska Miocic sounds like a Russian name. Is she a woman?"
"Yes, she is."
The journalists erupted into noise, sensing that Geon's description of the lyricist as a "lovely person" could make for a sensational story.
After a few more unanswered questions about Kiska, the journalists checked the remaining time and moved on to the next topic.
Throughout the nearly 50-minute conference, Geon remained composed, smiling at the journalists. He glanced at Byungjun and tilted his head as Byungjun trembled, looking at something behind the seated journalists.
Following Byungjun's gaze, Geon's eyes widened, and he involuntarily raised his voice.
"Ki, Kiska? How did you…"
As soon as Geon mentioned Kiska, the hundred journalists turned their heads towards the back.
There, an adorably cute little girl was smiling widely, waving her arms. Suddenly, the entire conference hall went quiet, with all eyes focused on the cheerful Kiska.
The buzz of conversation.
"Was Kiska Miočić just a kid?"
"She looks only about nine or ten years old... She's really cute though."
"Right, she's incredibly pretty."
The reporters, who had been discussing Kiska's appearance, were suddenly shocked when they remembered the lyrics she had written.
"A kid looking about ten years old wrote these lyrics?"
"Wow! Now that you mention it, the level of these lyrics isn't something a ten-year-old could write, is it?"
"Is this child a genius too? It's a meeting of geniuses, but since this kid is younger, does that make her even more remarkable?"
"Kiska! Look over here!"
The reporters started taking photos. Unaware of anything, Kiska simply laughed upon seeing Geon and Byungjun's surprised reactions, but when flashes began to go off, she shielded her face with her small hands due to the brightness.
Some female reporters screamed at the sight of adorable Kiska.
"Kyaa! So cute, what do I do! I want to bite her because she's so cute!"
"Kiska! Kiska! Can you look this way?"
As Kiska covered her face with her hands, Geon quickly moved past the press to reach her and lifted her into his arms.
Kiska, startled by someone touching her, panicked but upon realizing it was Geon, wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, still covering her eyes with her hands. Seeing this, Geon frowned at the barrage of flashes and shouted.
"The lights in the press room are bright enough! There's no need to use flash, please turn it off. The child is scared."
As Geon carried Kiska to the front of the press room, the photographers hastily turned off their flashes, and the sound of cameras clicking filled the air.
Arriving at the podium, Rin whispered urgently to Geon.
"There are 3 minutes left until the press conference ends. Try to avoid revealing any detailed information about Kiska."
Geon nodded slightly, then stood on the podium holding Kiska. Once the flashes stopped, Kiska slowly lowered her hands from her face and looked at the reporters.
When Kiska opened her cute little hands and met the reporters' eyes with her large ones, the cameras started clicking non-stop again, and the reporters raised their hands to ask questions. After stalling for time, Rin pointed to one reporter, who stood up and asked.
"Kay. Is the little lady you're holding Kiska Miočić? How old is she? And, did she write the lyrics to the new song?"
Geon looked at Rin and chuckled before answering.
"That's three questions. Ha."
After making a joke to buy time, Geon made the reporters laugh a little, took a breath, and then answered.
"Yes, this child is Kiska Miočić. Kiska is ten years old this year. And yes, she did write the lyrics to my new song. However, as she is still a child, please refrain from asking her direct questions."
While the reporters typed Geon's responses into their laptops, Rin checked her watch, prompting the reporters to become more anxious and start asking questions without waiting for permission.
"Which elementary school does Miss Kiska attend? Is she studying in the United States?"
"Kiska's name sounds Russian; does she have American citizenship?"
"Her songwriting skills are extraordinary. Does she have a natural talent for it, or is she taking special gifted classes?"
"How do you know each other?"
As the reporters bombarded them with questions, Rin calmly watched the chaotic scene unfold. As soon as it was time, Rin stepped forward in front of Geon, who was holding Kiska, and spoke into the microphone.
"Unfortunately, our time for the press conference is up. Please submit any further questions through Fantagio, and we will respond sincerely. Thank you for your hard work."
Despite the reporters pleading for more time, Rin nonchalantly turned to Byungjun and said.
"Manager, please take them away quickly. You need to head home immediately."
Byungjun quickly grabbed Geon's arm, and Rin urgently spoke to a security guard.
"Secure the exit!"
The security guard relayed instructions urgently through his headset, and as Byungjun and Kiska made their way to the lobby, they were surrounded on all sides.
As Geon emerged from the press conference, the reporters waiting outside thrust their cameras forward and shouted once more.
"Kay! Please, just one word!"
"Kay! We came all the way from Japan! A word for your Japanese fans, please!"
As the security guards pushed back the reporters, Byungjun, grabbing Geon's lapels, nearly dragged him to the waiting car, opened the door, pushed Geon and Kiska inside, then slammed the door shut and yelled with his hands raised.
"That's it! The press conference is over! For any further questions, please make an official request
through Fantagio!"
The relentless reporters pushed past Byungjun, pounding on the car and shouting.
"Kay! Just one word! One word will do!"
"Please! Many fans are waiting! Where are you hiding?"
"Have you found a home in the United States? Kay! Kay!"
Pushed aside by the reporters, Byungjun made his way back to the driver's seat, scrambling over the lap of a mafia member seated there.
"Uh, sorry, just a moment!"
After Byungjun finally clambered into the passenger seat, he slapped the seat and shouted.
"Go! Go!"
The car hastily sped off, leaving skid marks and a cloud of smoke behind, as the remaining reporters rushed onto the road, watching the disappearing car and shouting, but the car turned left at the next block and vanished from sight.
As the disheartened reporters stood silently on the road, three cars parked opposite Lincoln Center started moving towards the direction Geon had disappeared.
Inside one of the cars, Geon, looking incredulously at Kiska in his arms, asked.
"Kiska! How did you get here?"
Kiska, slightly startled by the question, gave Geon a bashful smile. Amused by her giggling, Geon shook his head as Byungjun turned around, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Seeing Kiska's back as she sat on Geon's lap, Byungjun sighed and said.
"That was close to being a major incident. Phew, it's a relief Kiska wasn't hurt. You're not hurt either, right, Geon?"
Geon nodded, then lifted Kiska by the armpits and seated her next to him, fastening her seatbelt.
"Kiska, where were you hiding?"
Kiska grinned and poked the backseat's upholstery.
"Here? Are you talking about the trunk? Phew, the nanny is going to worry. We need to get home fast. The nanny will have turned the house upside down looking for you."
Byungjun chuckled, fastening his seatbelt and smiling at Kiska's amusement.
"Kiska, was it fun? Uncle was scared to death because of you."
Kiska, locking eyes with Byungjun, pointed at his face and giggled. Amused by her gesture, Byungjun raised his index finger to touch Kiska's small hand and laughed, and Kiska laughed heartily, seemingly overjoyed.
Despite the unexpected small incident, the three of them played around in the car, quickly heading back to Red Castle.
The three cars chasing Geon's vehicle sped up as they left the Brooklyn city outskirts.
As the car following closely behind Geon's lowered its window to check Kiska's location, guns appeared in the hands of the Albanian mafia members. Aurel, seated in the second car from the front, put a phone to his ear and issued orders.
"Kidnap Kiska Miočić. Don't shoot at the backseat."
Following Aurel's command, the men in the lead car drew their guns and leaned out the windows, aiming at the car ahead.
One mafia member squinted with one eye, aiming at the rear tire, but turned his head towards a shape rushing in from his right, just as the headlights of a silver car flashed right in front of him.
"What?"
Crash!! Screeeeech!!!!!
A silver sedan collided with the side of the lead car. Instantly, a path was cleared, and Aurel, now directly behind Geon's car, screamed as he saw the crashing vehicle pass by.
"What the!!! How did this happen!"
The driver, gripping the steering wheel, looked through the side mirror at the organization's car, smoking against a building wall, and yelled.
"What should we do, boss! Shall we keep chasing?"
As Aurel turned to see the retreating crash vehicle, someone from the crashed car got down, pulled out a handgun, aimed at the organization members in the wrecked car, and shouted something.
"Damn it!! What's that! Are they police, Red Mafia? Damn, are we exposed!"
"What should we do, boss! Give us orders!"
"What to do! Just keep driving, you idiot!"
The driver pressed the accelerator deeply, and Aurel, pushed back by the force, leaned against the seat. The organization member, quickly catching up to Geon's car, fumbled for his gun, then paused when he saw the safety catch on his gun in his leather jacket's inner pocket. He lowered his head to draw it, then looked forward.
"Whoa!!!"
Just as Geon's car passed, a vehicle emerging from an alley collided with the right front of Aurel's car.
Bang!!!
Aurel's car veered sharply to the left, leaving skid marks on the road before crashing into a lamppost and coming to a stop.
Aurel, ducking in the backseat with his arms over his head, touched
the back of his neck, then looked at the driver, who had already passed out, and cursed.
"Damn, useless!"
Aurel, holding a Glock 19, kicked the car door open, and the door fell off with a loud crash. As he aimed the gun outside, stepping out of the car, he yelled.
"Who are you guys!!?"
Aurel's face turned pale as he aimed the gun sideways, threateningly, only to see himself surrounded by numerous people. Lowering his head to see many red dots on his body, he froze. A black man stepped forward, shouting.
"CIA! Aurel Mavray! You are under arrest for illegal immigration, unregistered firearm possession, and attempted murder! Drop the gun!"
Aurel, seeing the fifty or so CIA agents surrounding him, smirked bitterly, dropped the gun, and raised his hands behind his head.
Several CIA agents, guns still aimed, rushed forward, kicked Aurel's knees to force him down, and handcuffed him. Aurel muttered resignedly.
"What kind of country is this, where the government protects the mafia?"
Meanwhile, Geon, hearing a loud noise, looked back but saw only empty roads and buildings receding in the distance due to a car turning at the same time.
"Seemed like a loud noise..."
Geon, with Kiska leaning against him, looked down at her as she gazed up with big eyes and asked.
"Kiska, did you hear anything?"
Kiska, with wide eyes, placed her tiny, cute hand to her ear, and Geon, holding her hand, exclaimed.
"Kiska!! You've got ice cream all over you! Sigh, let's go home and clean up!"
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein