Sun Wooju, wearing an acoustic guitar, began tapping the wooden floor with his heel to keep time.

As if cueing the traditional players and the band session.

He tilted his head and motioned, and the instruments joined one by one.

“Wow......”

Traditional and modern instruments blended exquisitely, building the intro to “A Private’s Letter.”

Smiling at the players like a conductor leading an orchestra, Wooju turned his head.

His lips, resting on the standing mic, parted gently.

“Leaving home and boarding the train”

A resonant voice recited the lyrics.

In an instant, a lyrical mood settled in, like a guest singer performing on an old radio.

All eyes shifted to the Soufflé about to enlist and his father.

“Dad really loves this.”

Maybe Wooju’s tender heart—singing for the man’s son—was getting across; the father’s smile wavered with emotion.

And—

The soon-to-enlist Soufflé kneaded his temple in agony.

Soft laughter rippled through the audience.

As the comforting “Private’s Letter” swelled to its peak—

“Alright, that’s enough.”

At the singer’s signal, the instruments faded.

His fingers rose and fell softly across the acoustic strings, a consoling line flowing out.

The other members hummed along as the song came to a close.

“Waaaaaaaa!”

The leader opened his eyes slightly and smiled.

“Come back safe.”

He waved like a farewell. When the younger members moved to wave too, the leader stopped them with a grin.

“Only veterans are allowed to do this one, kids.”

“Tch.”

A warm air drifted through.

The hall felt wistful, like seeing off a younger sibling or family at boot camp.

“By the way......”

Wooju asked with a gentle smile,

“Where were we?”

Laughter burst from the seats. Wooju scratched his cheek, acoustic still in hand.

“I forgot what we were saying because I was singing. Anyone remember?”

“Me.”

Ri Hyuk took the mic.

“We were chatting while looking at the audience’s faces.”

“Oh. Right.”

The leader flashed a grin and sat back down. Then he looked out at the 500-plus audience and smiled.

“Such a variety of people came. I’d love to speak to each of you one by one, but that’s impossible timewise, so I’ll offer a greeting to everyone at once instead.”

A pleasant voice rang through the hall.

“Welcome to the showcase. This is Seoul Namsangol Gugakdang. You’re here right now with us, NewBlack.”

Wooju strummed the guitar, speaking as smoothly as a radio host.

Junghyun took the mic.

“Very radio style today.”

“That’s right, Mr. Junghyun. It’s ‘Spaceship’s Starry Night.’”

The perfect naming sense drew laughs.

Maybe because they set the mood that way, it felt less like a showcase and more like a family music show.

Of course, it wasn’t entirely ordinary.

“...On that note, anyone want to hear the Seoul metro transfer music? You know the tune that echoes in traditional style?”

As the traditional players smiled and performed the transfer jingle “Eolssiguya,” fans broke into laughter.

It was the song everyone knew.

While Wooju and Junghyun added “kukung, kukung” sound effects, Jiho’s clear voice rang out bright.

“Next stop is NewBlack, NewBlack Station. There are no doors to disembark. Customers heading the other way, please transfer here to the Spaceship~”

Viewers watching on the Y app cackled at the collab with Korea’s best traditional musicians.

“Who narrates over folks like that while they’re playing lololololol”

“It’s even funnier that everyone’s enjoying it lolol”

“So the title was ‘Eolssiguya’”

“National Gugak Center: (pleased)”

“The gayageum player is gorgeous”

“The kids are really good at variety. In a short time they even nail the players’ ‘characters’”

When Wooju said, “Recording live instruments for this Goblin was genuinely fun,” the players plucked a playful “diiing~” and shook their heads—like comic spice seeping in.

In that vibe, they rolled into °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° other special album stages, with event corners sprinkled in.

The biggest buzz was the Golden Bat roulette.

“Yes. You in the very front, our Golden Soufflés! For clearing the highest-difficulty mission...”

“There’s a truly massive reward waiting, along with letters we prepared.”

“Ttanttarararan!”

Staff wheeled out a roulette with the Golden Soufflé mascot clenching a fist.

Like a kid’s summer-break timetable, the large boxes read “Goblin merch,” etc. In tiny tick marks were “refrigerator,” “washing machine,” “air conditioner,” and so on.

“Sponsored by CEO Park Gyuho.”

Biju beamed after Wooju.

“This is a drawing for those who found the golden bats. If you spin it like... ngh... like this, the ticks go chonk-chonk-chonk.”

Biju spun it once and the Golden Soufflé’s finger landed on “Goblin lightstick.”

Junghyun nodded.

“As you can see, no rigging whatsoever. You have a one percent chance to receive an appliance.”

Just when it looked like people would come up one by one to spin, Wooju rolled up his hanbok sleeves and stepped out.

“I’ll spin.”

Laughter erupted online and off.

“Here comes the hustler lololololol”

“Gyuho knew and prepared this”

“‘You know the Spaceship?’ ‘Best card shark I’ve ever met’”

“A master plan to hand out appliances lol”

“If they found golden bats, they deserve it”

“Feels like a shareholders’ meeting announcing dividends...”

“He’s gotta hit Vegas before he gets even more famous”

Wooju smiled sweetly and threw an appliance party. The one-percent kept popping nonstop, and the venue roared.

“So it really works.”

The members gave thumbs-ups to the golden-bat Soufflés laughing in the front row.

“We love you, everyone!”

“We are swallows who return your kindness!”

The first idols in history to repay with cold, hard cash.

Amid chaotic laughter, the showcase flowed on.

To give the players a breather between drawings, they ran a Q&A about the album.

A whiteboard covered in Post-its.

“You all sent a lot of questions.”

They peeled them off one by one and answered. Ri Hyuk took the first Post-it.

“Fwaaaah......”

“What?”

“The peeling sensation felt so good.”

“......”

Our main vocal was the type who loves stationery and Post-its—like burying his nose in a new book and beaming.

Ri Hyuk cleared his throat and read.

“A question from ‘WangJihoDivorceMe.’ Why is the album color gray?”

“I got divorced?”

As people chuckled at the maknae’s reaction, I took the mic.

“The album color is gray because it continues our project from the studio album. You know Empire is black, right?”

“Yes!”

“In our Five Colors pentalogy, after we handled the individual colors, we returned to black.”

What we planned back then was Black and White.

The theme: conflict and harmony.

If the fireworks-following pentalogy dealt with meetings and farewells, then this trilogy’s theme would be conflict and harmony.

“This special album aims to capture the gray that exists between those two albums. Last time’s theme was conflict. Why does conflict happen? We put our thoughts on that into it.”

It came from wondering why people fight.

Naturally the maknae said it’s because we’re different, and the theme was set.

For material, Junghyun suggested uncanny beings.

“Black and white. Night and day. We wanted to handle the gray zone in between. When we added beings that don’t belong to day or night, it fit perfectly.”

So mythic and folkloric beings became the album’s theme.

Just as, long ago, stories of giants were passed down orally because some people were exceptionally tall or big.

Tales of those who became legendary because they were different.

At that point I passed the baton to Junghyun.

“Actually, when I was writing ‘Goblin,’ Junghyun’s idea helped a lot. On that note, Junghyun, explain......”

Under the fans’ “ooo~” hype, Junghyun took the mic, looking shy.

“I took a bit of inspiration from personal experience.”

Was it elementary school?

He circled around to the story he’d told me before about his baseball-club days.

“Everyone’s had something like that. You get stressed because you’re different. Sometimes you wish a part you lack would become the same as others.”

I, the younger ones, and the audience all nodded.

Hunting for the right words for a long moment, Junghyun said,

“In that sense, ‘Goblin’ is a song we prepared to say it’s okay to be different.”

Our rapper smiled.

“We’re not complete adults yet, so we’re clumsy and rough around the edges... but we put our hearts into it.”

“For the record, I’m the one who made it. These guys just chime in one line at a time from the back~”

I cut in with a light laugh, loosening a mood that was about to turn heavy.

Junghyun sent a grateful look.

I smiled and said,

“Of course that’s our intent, but you all know our ultimate goal for any song, right? To have fun~”

I winked and the kids deadpanned as fans cheered.

Time to edge toward the “Goblin” stage.

While the players set up, we prepped the wrap-up patter.

“We’re about to unveil the first-ever stage for ‘Goblin.’ Are you excited?”

“Yeeeees!”

“Great.”

As staff cleared the stage props, we took our ending formation.

The maknae took the mic.

“‘Goblin’ has another meaning, too. It also captures how we are with you nowadays.”

Biju nodded.

“Back at debut, things like live broadcasts were super awkward. We were so nervous about what to do and how to talk.”

“But now I feel like we know how to chat with fans.”

I added to their comments.

“And it’s been almost three years now since we started promoting... what we feel is different from the start.”

When debut made everything awkward, the strongest feeling was, work hard and repay this attention and affection.

“These days, having fun with you is even more fun. We really get energy from it. In that sense, we want to ask......”

I asked the Soufflés, who answered with cheers,

“Did you have fun today, too?”

As the audience answered in unison, we bowed—and a huge cheer washed over us again.

“We’ll keep making it fun for you.”

“This has been NewBlack! Thank you!”

As the lights began to dim, we regrouped into stage formation.

Time for the last performance of the night.

Soufflés, hearts pounding, gazed at the blacked-out stage.

And then—

Jiiiiing—!

The gong rang, a traditional intro flowed, and the house erupted.

Under the brightening lights, the members’ mischievous smiles came into view.

On the Y app broadcast camera, Jiho squinted one makeup-bright eye and grinned.

“Wow......”

From the five moving like uncanny beings groping through darkness, Ri Hyuk stepped forward.

Hand lightly to his brow, he looked around.

“Did I take the wrong road”

“So that’s how it is”

Behind the scanning main vocal, the other four slipped by like they were sneaking.

“Did we wake at the wrong time”

“So that’s how it is”

As Ri Hyuk froze in place, the four behind him added a playful call.

“That can happen”

It felt like watching a pansori stage—buoyant and fun.

As the beat flipped and the quintessential Korean off-beat clapping started, Ri Hyuk ducked out and sub-vocal Jiho stepped up.

An overhead-tap motion.

“I woke up and horns had sprouted”

“I don’t have horns”

“They say we swung bats at people”

“We are”

The lyrics felt like commentary on goblins’ fate—how the modern era slapped a distorted image over them.

Jiho, twirling his index finger, stopped, and the four murmured again in low, jaunty voices.

“That can happen”

The meter shifted again and sped up.

As if showing they’d stopped hiding and squirming, the moves grew broader.

The lead vocal slid in, bracelets chiming, circling left and right as the others followed.

A cheerful flower of laughter bloomed on the leader’s face.

“Where is Hanyang”

“They call it Seoul”

“The world has changed completely”

“We’re the same”

The traditional sonics slowly thinned, pop flavor rising.

As the members joined Wooju and fanned left-right, Biju—back turned till now—flared his sleeve and stepped out.

Like goblins with no fixed form, the formation surged and sloshed.

Even while dancing joyously, the main dancer’s eyes, fixed front, were piercingly clear.

“But so what”

“It’s not the first or second time”

“Shall we dance”

“Who are we”

As if answering, the rapper burst in.

Center stage, Junghyun rippled his hand like a wave and rode it; the members joined.

“Gabi gabi dotgabi”

“Odokabi”

As old names for goblins flowed in the chorus, the audience hummed along.

With the members riding buoyant waves, cheers erupted from the seats.

Hems snapped fresh in the air as if to shake off every worry and care.

Just like they’d said—they were out to have a truly rollicking good time.

Then, moving from verse one to verse two—

“Oh?”

Fans noticed an intriguing bit of choreography.

Before the dance-break section, Wooju and Biju played rock–paper–scissors, and then the formation unfurled—shhhaaak.

“Biju... how did he win—no, the choreo’s changing?”

Unlike the MV, Biju won rock–paper–scissors here, and the formation shifted into something else entirely.

It seemed designed to show unpredictability.

Great idea.

While people wondered if a tie would trigger yet another formation, the dance break hit and the stage wrapped.

“Thank you!”

The members waved with impish goblin grins.

And—

Poof!

With a sound effect, white smoke rolled across the stage and the members’ figures slowly vanished.

Like goblins truly disappearing, Soufflés burst out laughing and cheered harder.

It was, through and through, a NewBlack-style stage.

After the showcase,

Soufflés staggered under the flood of news.

“NewBlack, yet another all-time comeback... Y app live showcase broadcast ‘record view count’”

“‘National idols’... this time they lined the charts with ‘Goblin’”

“MV blew up too... ‘Goblin’ on pace for fastest 10 million views ever”

Just like during Empire, their bias looked set to blast past 10 million in a flash.

They’d expected it to do well, but this exceeded the projections.

Maybe the showcase’s viewership was so shocking that antis vanished somewhere.

“What do you mean Empire wasn’t the ceiling......?”

Even fans were flustered.

Soufflés had naturally assumed Empire’s numbers were the max.

They’d been thinking, let’s just maintain this well somehow.

And promising themselves not to obsess over numbers.

“I mean lol I literally swore I wouldn’t be a numbers freak”

“I thought there wasn’t any way to go higher from here, but MeTube views went up again..”

“How is there still fresh inflow”

“Maybe ‘special’ in ‘special album’ meant the results were special”

“Gyuho is smiling today too”

“As expected, Gyu-Seol-New..”

“What’s that”

“NewBlack that makes Gyuho’s heart flutter. I’m claiming it from today”

“This fandom has a long way to go”

It was still day one, so public reaction was unknown, but “Goblin” sat firm at number one on real-time charts.

They were already famous as a general-public pick, and the promo this time was great.

You could say lining up the charts was only natural, but......

“What is this.”

What shocked Soufflés most was the album sales.

First-week sales—the seven days after release—used as an indicator of fandom firepower.

[NewBlack Special 2nd Album ‘~Gii (奇異)~’ Day 1 First-Week Count]

175,3**

News hit that day-one sales were a whopping 170,000-plus.

“When is Lemon going public”

“Hit a new day-one peak..”

“Don’t they not have fansigns or music shows this time???”

“How many versions, I want to know”

“So the rumor that NewBlack’s group-order lead is an oil tycoon was true”

No music-show promos or fansigns—just a special album meant for collecting—and yet the sales were overwhelming.

Empire, a full album, had done 610,000.

Fans were dazed at hearing day one had surpassed that.

Of course, you can’t know precisely from day one alone.

But it should have been similar to Empire or a bit less; numbers like this meant massive new-fan inflow.

“Still growing......?”

It was good, sure, but it felt like hearing someone whose height had hit four meters still had open growth plates.

Just when they were happy to have reached the summit, the mountain itself rose up.

As fans gulped and felt the dizzying height—

“Hm?”

Before long, MeTube started filling with quirky choreography videos shot all over the country.

Soufflés checked the thumbnails and smiled warmly.

“As expected, running from the police.”

They were exactly the kind of videos fans had imagined.