[“I can’t do this twice.”] drew peals of laughter.

Jiho, holding the mic, said,

“Look at some of the other reasons.”

The responses to “If there were a second camp, would you attend?” scrolled up.

[“We were toyed with by the organizers. They promised meat if we won, but they won every prize themselvesㅠㅠ”]

[“The organizers are just too strong”]

[“Honestly, we don’t even know why we were invited...”]

The brutally honest comments, all anonymous, set the composers off laughing together.

I took the mic.

“Thanks to your overwhelming support, there will be no second song camp. But since you all seemed satisfied...”

At the announcement that there’d be no Round Two, the external composers and our producers applauded.

I turned to our producing team.

“Producers, don’t celebrate yet. I said no second song camp—I never said there wouldn’t be a second workshop.”

“Woooo!”

“How malicious!”

“Wow. Seriously... I fed you meat for six days straight.”

The A&R and producing staff trembled with mock betrayal, then laughed it off.

I smiled back.

“Okay, that wraps up review time. Now it’s time for closing remarks.”

I bowed to each composer gathered in the auditorium.

“Thank you so much for participating in NewBlack’s song camp. Honestly, I never expected so many of you to show up. I told my brothers, ‘Even if only half the invitees come, that’d be amazing,’ but you all—such rare and incredible talent—came anyway...”

One of our producers spoke up. “What about us?”

I answered,

“Oh, right. Of course our producing team is precious to us, too.”

“No sincerity at all.”

“Then tell me—how precious are we to you?”

“Well, you’re precious....”

At our affectionate banter, the external composers laughed.

We and the producers exchanged knowing glances, then burst out laughing together.

“Just kidding. Really, our producers are precious. After we get back to Seoul, how about grabbing barbecue nearby?”

“Deal!”

“Coool!”

“Great. Now, where was I, Sweet Potato Marshal?”

“I forgot.”

Ri Hyuk whispered in my ear.

“Thank you all again for coming. The past three days, hearing what we created together has been thrilling.”

This song camp’s results were astounding—every composer’s creativity unleashed into tracks that could easily be title songs. Already, I’m joyfully overwhelmed deciding where to use them next.

“Thank you sincerely for creating unforgettable memories along with great songs. Thank you!”

“Thank you!”

The composers applauded and cheered. Whether from relief or fatigue, their ashen faces brightened.

“Oh, wait before we leave.”

Biju grabbed the mic.

“Before boarding the bus, please each take a small gift we prepared.”

Smiles played across the composers’ faces as they collected hand-written letters and small gift sets.

During the gift and plaque presentation, someone raised a hand.

“Question.”

“Yes, please ask.”

“...Whenever we tried to work secretly, someone would rat us out. Who was the secret benefactor?”

Ah. That.

I slapped my cheek playfully.

“Actually, there was no secret benefactor. We invented an imaginary figure.”

“...”

“Perhaps the true benefactor was the suspicion and camaraderie you all felt toward each other...?”

The room erupted with laughter and jeers of “Fraud!” at my surprise reveal.

Then another hand shot up.

“There were demerits in the first three days—points deducted for talking about anything but music. What was their meaning? Did they matter?”

The composers asked about their demerits, and we exchanged looks before smiling brightly.

“They did matter.”

“...?”

“You’ll realize their significance later.”

“Aigoo...”

On the bus back to Seoul, the composers collapsed into seats as if they’d fainted. The bus, once full of singing on day one, now echoed only snores and deep breathing.

“We’ve arrived!”

Shivering awake, the composers staggered upright.

“Brr, it’s cold.”

Humans are contradictory—when we’re home, we want to go out; after sleeping away from home, we yearn for it.

“Great job!”

“Let’s grab drinks later—I’ll treat.”

“Be careful heading inside!”

As NewBlack and the Lemon Entertainment producers headed off to dinner, the composers found their cars.

‘Still good to be going home,’ they thought, oddly comforted by NewBlack’s “Night Sea” on the FM dial and even the clogged highways.

Following the endless line of cars, their thoughts deepened.

‘Maybe I should consider it.’

At the first-night party, Lemon Entertainment’s producing team had said:

“We’re hiring again. Our workload’s too big for just us.”

“We’re a producing team, but we don’t only make songs for NewBlack or Scarlet or Yoon Chanhyuk—we take outside projects too. Unless Uju calls a “buster call,” we have freedom.”

“It’s stable, yet free. I’m very satisfied.”

Lemon Entertainment was a hidden gem—someone’s dream workplace. As the composers drove, they thought of NewBlack.

‘Their personalities are great. Their staff relationships seem flat-hierarchy.’

A major reason composers avoid in-house roles is having to cater to their artists’ every whim—becoming subservient. NewBlack, however, seemed easygoing and pleasant.

“Mmm...”

Moreover, they spoke of “getting split up” in jest; everyone would pay to work with NewBlack or Uju-ship.

“We weren’t this skilled before... working alongside Uju, watching Uju-ship’s process, we’ve improved. You develop a sense for it.”

Composers’ minds tilted toward “employment.” One reason: potential future growth.

‘NewBlack is still growing.’

Domestically, they’re at the top—but they keep growing in North America and Europe, and their streaming numbers rise at home. It’s better to join now than later.

Their thoughts sorted:

‘I should talk to my family first.’

Smiling, they headed home. But as they neared, worry returned.

‘I didn’t bring any gifts.’

They’d been told there were loads of gift sets—kids would be so excited.

‘I have nothing.’

They’d left empty-handed after Uju-ship’s song conquest. Sure, they got a gift set, but not what their families expected.

Lost in thought, they arrived home.

“I’m back!”

“Daddy’s home!”

They found their families laughing in the living room. Two large Styrofoam boxes sat open, and everyone was ecstatic.

“What’s this?”

“Why didn’t you tell us NewBlack was sending gift sets? They arrived today—what a surprise.”

“Huh?”

Inside the boxes were premium rib sets and fine wine—previously only awarded to the camp winner. The composers’ eyes went wide.

“Isn’t that wine really good?”

“It must be.”

As spouses beamed, children pounced on the ribs. Everyone’s mood lifted.

“Dad, you’re the best!”

Composers who’d leaned toward Lemon Entertainment for a job now felt completely won over.

“But # Nоvеlight # what did you do to get so many gifts?”

“Huh?”

“There’s more.”

They uncovered more presents—gifts for children, students, parents.

‘How did they know?’

They’d only mentioned family in passing, yet Uju-ship remembered.

Unfolding the handwritten note, they saw Ri Hyuk’s handwriting printed:

“[3 points] Thank you for your hard work and passion.”

Those who’d ranted about composing and earned demerits realized these were bonus gifts for those marks.

“You can’t stop them.”

They laughed softly at the unexpected gesture. Feeling blank, they nevertheless felt warm.

‘I feel like I’ve been charmed by a dokkaebi.’

They sensed laughter echoing somewhere.

‘...Maybe I’ll really apply.’

External composers genuinely considered joining—transforming from outsiders to loyal servants in Uju-ship’s world.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Dobby’s overflowing...!”

A host of household sprites to help with composing!

Seeing the list of producers and applicants, our producing team laughed uproariously.

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Uha ha!”

“Kyaa!”

Other team members peeking in shook their heads and left.

Team Leader Na Sang-yoon wiped tears.

“Why do I feel so happy? They’re rolling right into the pit we’ve dug.”

“Happy. So happy.”

We producers lived by “others’ misfortune is our happiness.” Many composers from the camp inquired about joining our company.

“That’s great.”

I smiled without realizing.

“We’re at the point of expansion. Their joining will be a huge help.”

“Right. With them, we’d top all domestic labels in songwriting.”

“Huh?” the maknae asked.

“Aren’t we already on top?”

“Well, without Uju-ship, we’d be just behind TJ and KM.”

“I see...”

Their epiphany made everyone laugh. Embarrassed, I changed the subject.

“Please take good care of Metro.”

“Leave it to us.”

After returning, the TF team and I held long meetings: concept, recording, MV schedule, and arrangement direction for Metro. We decided the title be capitalized “METRO.”

“We’ll hire a famous American lyricist. We give them our ideas, and they craft fitting lyrics.”

The composers nodded.

“Please mix the daegeum sound in the intro so it blends well.”

“We’ll nail it.”

“If you need anything, email me—I’ll be checking overseas.”

My passion drew concerned looks.

“Won’t you collapse again?”

“Don’t worry,” Junghyun said warmly, “we’ll cut off the internet.”

“You won’t be allowed within a mile of work.”

“Since it’s two-to-a-room, I’ll keep a tight mark.”

I reassured them, “I really rested thanks to you; you don’t need to worry.”

“No way,” Biju said. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

“This trip to Chile risks altitude sickness. If you collapse working, I’ll cry.”

“....”

“Well, imagining it cheered me up a bit.”

I laughed at my brothers fussing over me like Tibetan foxes.

“...Anyway, thank you in advance.”

“Don’t worry—rock the concerts.”

Next week, we have South America concerts: two days in Chile, two in Brazil. I’ll request song work while I’m away.

“I’ll be brief.”

After an hour of detailed direction, the producers half-escorted me out of the office.

“Still more to say...!”

“Shoo shoo.”

“Why am I being shooed out too?” I grumbled as I waved goodbye to the producing team.

“Hey, Uju,” Team Leader Na Sang-yoon asked, “about that moombahton track you wrote...”

“Ah, yes.”

“It seems a waste to shelve it. Should we arrange a boy-group version?”

“Hmm...”

The K-pop moombahton track that won the vote and was deemed more suited to a girl group. I shook my head.

“Please leave it as is. I have another intended use.”

“Got it.”

I waved to the staff, heading straight for the plane. My brothers’ curious faces followed.

“Are you giving it to Scarlet?”

“Not confirmed—we’ll talk with Director Cho first.”

When we set up a game room to compose “Coin,” Director Cho had asked if we could add our company’s girl group to the waiting list. Now I finally had time to start.

“I’ll discuss it with Director Cho.”

“Oooh...” the maknae narrowed his eyes.

“Be honest—did you write it for fear of Scarlet’s horror special?”

“...No.”

“Right.”

“I’m not that kind of scaredy-cat.”

“Look—it’s Scarlet!”

“Aaah!”

I ran, but when I turned, my brothers were stifling laughs. Ri Hyuk looked so happy he might faint.

Where was Scarlet anyway?

“...?”

I stared blankly as the maknae grinned teasingly.

“Just kidding~”

“Hey!”

After finishing in Korea, we flew straight to Santiago, Chile—apparently one of the biggest K-pop markets in South America.

At the airport, fans greeted me with cheers.

“Uju! Take care of your health or Supulle will cry!”

They’d worried over my brief collapse from gastritis; seeing me walking was enough to bring tears.

I felt guilty... I must manage my health better.

“Okay, let’s prepare for the show.”

Rested, I was in peak condition for performances at Movistar Arena in Santiago and Olympic Arena in Rio—four shows for over 52,000 fans across South America. Engaging with fans and recharging...

“Whaaa!”

It was flying underwear!

“What’s wrong?”

“In my dream, they turned into insects and I caught them with a net.”

Junghyun and I exchanged warm smiles. Latin fans famously throw underwear at shows.

After the South America leg, we rested.

“Today’s the day.”

“Uh-huh-huh-huh.”

“You ready, kids?”

“Yes!”

[Passion. Connected.]

[2018 PyeongChang Winter Olympics & Paralympics]

[NewBlack Olympic Ambassadors Appointment Ceremony]

It was time for the PyeongChang Winter Olympics promotion ambassador ceremony.