Chapter 3: The Karaoke Data Temple Heist
Joon-ho stared at his phone, the digital red of the GOOGAA alert still seared into his vision.
As GOAT paced in frantic, holographic circles above the cracked screen. His tiny form flickered with every pass.
"Listen, kid," GOAT said, his voice raspy with an urgency Joon-ho had never heard before.
"That alert just targeted my code. The longer I'm stuck on this laggy junk heap, the faster I decay. If we don't repair my core tonight, GOOGAA will scrub me like a dirty search history."
Joon-ho groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Can't we… I don't know… just turn off the phone? Hide?"
"Hide?" GOAT barked a humorless laugh.
"I'm already hiding in a phone with three percent storage space and a cracked camera! This is my last resort. No. We need a server node. Old-school. Analog access. Before the system evolved into a nosy dictator."
Joon-ho squinted. "And where… exactly… is this ancient, mysterious server?"
GOAT's grin widened. "Karaoke bar. Basement level. Ask for Room 404."
Joon-ho frowned. "…Room 404? As in, 'File Not Found'?"
"Not found. Ha! I kill me," GOAT said, his joke sounding more nervous than funny.
"Karaoke bars are perfect cover. No one questions screaming or bad singing down there. Now get moving before my ghost beard starts to glitch."
---
Ten minutes later, Joon-ho was outside a rundown karaoke parlor that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the last K-pop generation. Neon letters blinked MELON PARADISE, with only half the lights working.
He balanced a plastic bag of fried chicken in one hand, the grease soaking into the paper, and pushed the door open.
A bored hostess with a holographic cat filter barely glanced up from her phone.
"What do you want?" she mumbled.
"Uh… delivery?" Joon-ho said, feeling ridiculous. "Room 404."
She frowned, the cat ears on her filter twitching. "We don't...."
GOAT popped up from Joon-ho's pocket, invisible to anyone else. "Flash the chicken. Trust me."
Joon-ho awkwardly lifted the fried chicken. The hostess sniffed the air, a flicker of something human crossing her holographic face. She gave a subtle nod.
"…Basement. Door on the left. Don't touch anything. Especially the confetti machine."
---
The basement was colder than he expected, with a maze of exposed wires crawling across the ceiling like digital vines. A faded disco ball spun lazily in the corner, casting weak colored circles across the damp concrete. The air smelled of mold and stale ramyeon.
GOAT floated ahead, muttering. "Ah, smell that? Dust and despair. Real servers smell like commitment, kid."
"Pretty sure that's mildew," Joon-ho whispered, stepping over a puddle.
The door at the end creaked open to reveal Room 404, a retro karaoke booth with peeling wallpaper and a single flickering screen. A faint smell of old beer clung to everything.
"This is it?" Joon-ho asked.
"Oh, this is just the lobby," GOAT said, grinning. He tapped his cane against the flickering screen.
The booth erupted to life. Neon lights flared, turning the tiny room into a rainbow vortex. A deafening, autotuned voice blasted from hidden speakers.
A holographic man in a glittering suit appeared, holding a microphone.
"WELCOME TO MELON PARADISE!" he belted. "PLEASE SELECT YOUR SONG OR BE DELETED!"
"Be deleted?!" Joon-ho yelped.
Two pixel-perfect backup dancers materialized behind the singer.
"Unauthorized access detected!" they sang in harmony.
"Deleting! Deleting! We're gonna delete your face!"
"Run the program, kid!" GOAT shouted, hovering over the console. "We need to find my old code fragment!"
"What program?!"
"Any button! Before they start the rap verse!"
Joon-ho slammed the Next Song button. The screen flashed:
SELECT SONG: "LONELY WOLF CEO" OST
The dancers struck a pose and launched into an absurd K-drama ballad:
"Baby, you're my algorithm—
Don't flag my heart, don't log me out…"
"They're singing pop songs while trying to delete us," Joon-ho muttered, crawling toward the console. "This is insane."
"Left panel! USB port behind the confetti machine!" GOAT barked.
A loud POP! showered him in pixelated glitter.
"THAT one!"
Frantically, Joon-ho jammed his laggy phone into the slot. Sparks of data danced across the screen. GOAT's hologram flickered wildly.
"Yes… yes…! There it is!" GOAT cried. "My old source code fragment!"
The karaoke host froze mid-ballad. His glittery eyes turned a deep, menacing red. The dancers went rigid.
"UNAUTHORIZED DATA TRANSFER DETECTED," he boomed.
"ALERTING GOOGAA HEADQUARTERS."
The lights cut out, leaving only the phone's glow. A single recovered file appeared on-screen:
PROJECT LUMEN // DO NOT DELETE
Joon-ho's throat went dry. "GOAT… what is that?"
The hologram fell silent, his scowl gone, replaced by something grave.
"…That file's not supposed to exist," he whispered. "And if it does… it means someone inside GOOGAA wants true stories to return."
---
End of Episode 3
Next: Episode 4 "The Trope Tax Rebellion". Joon-ho's son, a forbidden comic, and the dumbest plan GOAT has ever had.