The professors at the cyber university, starting with the General Psychology professor, clicked “approve” with satisfied smiles.

"Billboard?"

"If it’s Billboard, approved."

They’d wondered what grand reason could prompt an urgent email, and at this level it made sense immediately.

There were, however, a few curiosities.

"The 22nd of next month—so why email already?"

It was still a long way off; they were curious why an urgent email had gone out a month and a half early.

There was, faintly, a sparkle that said, "We’re going to Billboard!" Even though the writing was dry, the feeling that twenty-somethings were dying to brag peeked through and made them smile.

"But..."

Professors tilted their heads after scanning the emails.

Because the email from student Wang Jiho was a little odd. The subject line clearly said "Wang Jiho"...

So why did the body read, "This is Seo Rihyuk"?

"Hmm."

They could picture it perfectly.

The youngest, terrified at the idea of emailing a professor—"Uh, ema-emailing the professor..."—staring at someone else’s draft and copying it for dear life.

A warm smile touched the lips of the older professors.

"So that’s what happened, Jiho."

They looked at the national idol group’s youngest with a fond, "tsk, tsk" gaze and let it pass.

While NewBlack were buzzing about performing at the Billboard Awards, domestic media moved fast.

— "NewBlack to take the Billboard stage with global pop star Hailey Blue... ‘Blue Moon’ collab"

— "NewBlack, ranked No. 93 on Billboard Hot 100, now to perform... ‘Blue Moon’"

— "Hailey Blue, whose SNS remark stirred controversy, posts welcome tweet about sharing the stage with NewBlack: ‘We’ll show an awesome stage.’"

Recent coverage also resurfaced Hailey Blue’s remark—she’d sparked controversy by blasting the Awards’ rule changes that excluded NewBlack in multiple categories as "old white men acting up again."

Meanwhile, most Koreans reacted positively.

— "Our Blackies reaching out to the world~~ congrats"

— "Nice job hahahahaha great news first thing in the morning~!"

— "Go and come back healthy"

— "The greatest singers forever NewBlack, jewel-like NewBlack, love you"

— "Lucky are the folks close to NewBlack ㅠㅠ Now their thanks speech will say names in English"

— "So jealous ㅠㅠ"

— "I’m Choi Jihyun, Grade 2 Class 4 at Heukseok Elementary. Please say my name in the acceptance speech."

— "I’m Oh Yunmin, 43. Please call my name too. I’ll hold my breath until you do."

— "???: (murmur murmur) That grandpa held his breath for 50 years, they say... my word..."

A random "Heukseok Elementary" meme spread, and Koreans—true to their love of fun and satire—started riffing with "please say my name" bits.

"Think they’ll do something funny this time too?"

They’d dodged slime at the Kids’ Choice not long ago—surely there’d be more shenanigans.

Just as netizens’ eyes were sparkling with anticipation...

— "[Reporters Who Say What They Think] Global act NewBlack to take the Billboard stage—‘Why no ‘Coin’ stage?..?’ Reality vs Hype ①"

The instant they saw the headline, netizens’ eyes went cold.

The article droned on that the stage only came thanks to a lucky break with Hailey Blue’s collab, that NewBlack hadn’t actually achieved anything, yadda yadda.

— "They’re just breaking in now lol, what, win the grand prize on day one?"

— "These pieces are really the worst;"

— "Can’t you just say ‘good for them’ and congratulate them? They’re desperate to tear them down"

— "Ah, written by our dear Gyeongseok the Blind. Famously an anti of NewBlack along with that critic."

— "When TJ’s ‘Trickster’ landed on Billboard’s K-pop review page you called it ‘boosting national prestige,’ our dear Gyeongseok ^^"

— "Gyeongseok, did NewBlack stiff you on money? If so, fine, I accept"

— "Reporter, before ‘Dokkaebi’ came out you said it only counts if they hit Hot 100 ㅠㅠ"

— "How much did Park Taejun pay you"

Soon, other reporters—watching these reactions closely and hungry for clicks—pumped out rebuttals, and the hit piece got buried.

Souffles smiled quietly.

"Nothing for us to do...."

They sat still and the antis got handled on their own.

Like how high affinity stacks help you in a game, they could feel what happens in real life when you stack goodwill.

Souffles, faces bright, walked around listening to "Coin."

These days, NewBlack’s name carried not only online but offline too.

"NewBlack’s going to Billboard this time?"

"Back to the States again?"

"Why do they like them so much? Thought it was just us..."

"I hear for American toddlers they’re like Pororo. If a kid is crying, put on NewBlack TV and they’ll suck their thumb and watch quietly."

Such videos did pop up on MiTube.

Foreign babies crying fell silent the moment NewBlack TV played.

[My goodness. The crying stopped.]

[Looks like they like those people.]

Babies staring, slack-jawed, at members in mascot suits doing chase scenes, then clapping and giggling.

In Korea, NewBlack TV was also recommended for little kids.

Because it was fun and completely harmless.

If there was any "bad" influence...

— "Suyeon, why are you scared of your uncle?"

— "I heard about Prince Suyang. It’s scary."

— "So, you’ve found me out. Hand over the snacks. Rawr!"

— "Moooom!"

A side effect where children gained a little too much historical knowledge a little too early.

A cute side effect, really.

In any case, NewBlack TV was safe to play anywhere. Thanks to Rihyuk, a devout believer in the National Institute of Korean Language, there were no swear words in the content.

["Rihyuk hyung eats ganjajang. Ganjajang."]

["Or do you want jambon?"]

["Chicken stew~? Dori-dori jam-jam, per Rihyuk, is bokkeum-bokkeum jam-jam."]

["Rihyuk’s a bit stressed lately. The 사이시옷 rules were revised this year."]

For those reasons, it made sense they were catching on with American kids too.

In Korea, kids were wild for them already.

"This one?"

"Yeah, Mom. I want this."

"You want it?"

"Yo."

"Good."

Parents smiled as their daughters pointed at the princess dress Rihyuk had worn and said they wanted one too.

"Because it’s on sale."

"Thank goodness it’s Souffle-something Week."

Out shopping for once, parents wore pleased smiles.

"Is this discounted?"

"Yes! We’re in a collab period with NewBlack right now. The dress comes with a magic wand, too."

"A magic wand?"

"Yes, like that pork-cutlet mallet Junhyun used. It’s a limited first-come item—only a few left."

"Oho."

They called it NewBlack Friday or something.

Everywhere they went—stores partnered with NewBlack or shopping malls—staff were tapping calculators fast and rattling off sale prices.

"Got it cheap. Anything else on sale?"

"One moment..."

"Oh, and let’s swing by the mart on the way in. I heard NewBlack Bulgogi is on sale? It was in the flyer."

"Okay. And... let’s see. A nearby select shop has a sale, want to grab some clothes for yourself?"

At the marts, Souffle Bread and NewBlack Bulgogi were discounted; at the malls, various brands hung signs that read "Joining Souffle Week."

It was similar all over the country.

Any company with ties to NewBlack was scrambling to set up some kind of partnership.

"Can’t miss this."

For consumer-goods companies, it was a golden opportunity.

With modest discounts they could boost sales over the usual, and it was perfect for event marketing.

They just seldom had a pretext to run discounts.

You can’t very well go, "Weather’s nice today, sale~!"

So for those waiting for a sale window, this was a gift.

"Wow...."

Corporate staff, reviewing sales sheets from each branch, clicked their tongues.

"Selling like crazy...."

"Next year we should reach out first, get contracts signed before this Souffle Week thing starts."

"At this rate we’ll end up doing a Souffle Fashion Week."

"That’s tough—Wooju can’t dress."

And—

Sales were soaring online as well as offline.

["It’s the New Black Friday!"]

"Experience amazing discounts right now!"

Thanks to online shops launching discounts on select categories for "NewBlack Friday."

— "From 17:00, 34th Street is running ‘Newb Friday’ discounts! Recommend pre-loading your cart."

— "Gotta pre-load the cart;; why is competition this fierce"

— "It’s not even real Black Friday and why are Koreans this fast lol I got totally wiped"

— "Look at the buzz lolololol"

— "NewBlack Friday is saving the economy"

— "NewBlack: Please call us the New Deal from now on"

— "New Deal lmao"

— "I spent a ridiculous amount lol"

— "Best part is they didn’t jack prices up just to fake big discounts lol Picked partner brands well"

— "I needed a new foundation anyway hahaha Got the Rihyuk foundation"

Info posts poured in about which sites were running which Newb /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Friday discounts. 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

As the fever overheated, everyone started forgetting what the original event even was.

["Ah, this wasn’t actual Black Friday"]

"Was searching foreign sites for NewBlack Friday and realized something felt off;;"

— "lololololololol"

— "Me too, like ‘why no discounts overseas??’ lol"

— "It was a domestic thing"

— "Opened Steam and was like ‘why no Black Friday sale..?’ lol"

— "Thought TJ would sell a Black Friday package lol"

And it wasn’t just them.

["??? : Thanks, NewBlack hyungs"]

(Teen Spirit members holding up items they bought in this Newb Friday, via Y-app.jpg)

"Teens said they shopped the Newb discount lololololol"

— "lololololol"

— "Cute"

— "Even celebs can’t resist Black Friday"

— "Newb Friday"

— "A rare sight: Teen Spirit shopping on NewBlack Friday lol"

— "They even buy each other’s albums"

— "They’ve grown so much... kids who used to scratch Maple cash with gift cards are using credit cards now ㅠㅠㅠ"

That kicked off a wave of celebs posting NewBlack Friday proof shots on their socials.

Actor Lee Gyeonwoo posted a happy pic after buying NewBlack Bulgogi in bulk.

A comedian posted about buying princess/prince outfits for his kids, then standing three steps away staring off into the distance.

What began as a bit spread like a trend, and soon NewBlack’s name landed in the business pages.

— "Hundreds of billions in a single day’s sales... ‘NewBlack Friday’ a massive success"

If a foreigner wrote a book observing Korea, like The Journal of Hendrick Hamel, it would read: "This nation is dead serious about NewBlack."

With their name hitting the business pages, TV news also picked up NewBlack Friday.

"Now even shopping discounts for the fandom"—news about 21st-century future-food emerged.

While Souffle Week built its name positively in that way...

"Hahahahaha!"

Fans of Lemon Entertainment’s two idols—Scarlet and NewBlack—squealed happily, untouched by the outside commotion.

"Insane...!"

The NewBlack Friday packages were one thing.

But discontinued, out-of-print merch that was impossible to get now had returned to the product lists.

"I have to buy the Empire chess set."

Along with elegantly carved pieces, there was the Empire merch set with the members as chess pieces.

Plus Wooju’s beloved flower bracelets and more—various goods reappeared.

Curtain fans and Souffles bounced together, grinning, as they rage-purchased merch.

And—

Along with the person smiling in Lemon Entertainment’s CEO office, there were others smiling just as widely.

"Yes, Souffle. That’s it...."

"Excellent."

"Shall we partner?"

Card companies nationwide beamed and danced a courtship dance.

Using NewBlack Friday as a launch pad to spread the name wider, Souffle Week was wrapping up successfully.

"Hahh... hahh...."

We’d been practicing ourselves breathless and hadn’t been outside, but it sounded like the event had grown bigger than we’d imagined.

— "It was a madhouse."

That was what my grandma texted me.

— "At the mart, your faces were plastered everywhere. Even at cat food stands the five punks were grinning, and at the bulgogi stand your voices were going ‘please buy some bulgogi.’ Even at the café your songs were playing."

We laughed at her saying she’d seen her grandson’s and quasi-grandsons’ faces enough to be sick of them.

"I’m... glad... it’s going... well."

"Fwaaaaaa...."

We sprawled on the practice room floor with the younger ones, inching around. As our sweat cooled, we even felt a slight chill.

Huddled tight.

We pressed together like penguins in Antarctica.

"Achoo...!"

Jiho sneezed, and a fine mist of sneeze spray drifted down through the air.

"Ewwww!"

"I couldn’t help it..."

We all rolled our bodies away to dodge.

"Maybe because the sweat’s cooled. I’m getting cold."

"Want me to explain the mechanism for why you feel cold?"

"No."

While I shook my head, Biju sat up.

"I think we rested too long. Over ten minutes and your sweat completely cools. Time to raise core temp again."

"Five more minutes, Biju."

"Then exactly five."

We nodded and bunched back up.

Practice room ceiling.

Outside, all kinds of things were happening, but being holed up here made it hard to feel real.

It felt oddly distant from us.

Junhyun flicked a dried sweet potato slice into the air and caught it in his mouth.

"Even the idea of performing with Hailey at Billboard doesn’t feel real yet."

"Same."

Even the Gocheok Dome concert right in front of us didn’t feel real.

Maybe once we hit music shows next week it would.

Until then, it was grind, grind, grind.

"But I really think time is tight."

The youngest sniffled.

"It’d be nice if we could eat and sleep at the company. Actually—let’s just build everything into the practice room."

"In the practice room?"

"Yeah. First, install radiant floors in the practice room. Get the body toasty right away."

"Oho."

Tempting pitch. We started tossing out ideas.

"The company could run a cafeteria too. Like KM Entertainment—chef grills meat at lunch."

"Oh, that’s good."

"And create a shower-cum-bath space. Add a kitchen so we can cook simple stuff."

"Add a bedroom..."

As we were tossing ideas, Rihyuk paused.

"Hold up."

"Hm?"

"That’s... just a house."

"What?"

Right.

We burst out laughing, saying we might as well build a penthouse on the company’s roof and live there.

There’d been talk recently of moving to a new HQ. A few of these ideas, we should pitch to the CEO.

Meanwhile, Biju picked up his phone.

"It should be about time."

"Yeah?"

We all got up.

The reason for such a long break was the news we were waiting for.

"First-week~"

"Chodong-dong~"

We were about to check first-week album sales—chodong—the number sold in the initial seven days.

The last "Dokkaebi" special album had, what, 780,000?

There was talk that this full album might crack a million right out of the gate, so we were watching with interest.

"Do we really break a million...?"

At Rihyuk’s question, I shrugged.

"Who knows. It’d be incredible if we did..."

"Not incredible—super incredible. It’s never happened."

There were idol albums called million-sellers—TNT, Teen Spirit, others—but no group had sold a million in the first week.

If it happened, it’d be a new record.

Honestly, can it really happen...? But as of yesterday, Saturday, sales had already surpassed "Dokkaebi."

"Uwaaaa... I’m nervous."

Shivering, we pressed tight together.

It had been a while since we felt this keyed up.

"Oh! It’s in!"

Right then.

A message came in from Manager Hong Seoyoung.

It was a screenshot from the chart site, with a line of text.

"Nine...!"

"It’s a nine!"

Ah.

So a million was a bit much after all, I thought, and calmly read the digits that followed.

"Nine?"

"It’s a nine."

"Huh?"

We blinked at the numbers, and the first two digits snapped into focus.

"Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand?"

"Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand?"

The numbers jumped off the screen.

[Congrats! No. 1!]

[999,999 copies]

A new record.

The moment I saw it, my mind went white and I jumped to my feet before I knew it.

"Waaaaaaa!"

"Insane!"

"Hyungs! It says nine-nine-nine thousand!"

We all hugged and yelled, bouncing and chanting ya-ya~ ya-ya-ya-ya~.

Then sense returned as the joy-stunned brain rebooted, and we froze.

"Uh...?"

"Wait...?"

Hold on.

"We’re... one copy short?"

"Nine hundred ninety-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine."

"What?"

"Uh...?"

Normally we’d go "Wooooo!" and hug again, but we missed the beat and just stared at the number.

"I mean, this is..."

For a split second, our brains couldn’t decide what reaction to produce, and we spluttered.

"Wait...."

Exactly one copy short of a million.

A one-copy gap.

Something familiar surfaced, and a phantom voice seemed to echo in my ear.

The voice of that six-member idol who’d proclaimed he’d buy five albums this time, not six.

"Remember this. A gentleman’s revenge takes a hell of a long time."

In that instant—

"Th—!"

"Uh—!"

We all sprang to our feet at the same time.