The recording session with Teen Spirit ended on a pleasant note.

“Good work, hyung.”

“You worked hard too.”

The pretty boys came all the way to the parking lot to see me off, bowing deeply. I waved at them and got into the car.

“Alright.”

I rolled down the window and smiled.

“See you next time. Prepare well for your comeback.”

“Yes! Get home safe!”

After returning their greetings, I sank into the seat. Watching them wave until our car disappeared into the distance made me chuckle.

“Ugh.”

But seriously, I’m exhausted.

My whole body feels like cheese melted in a microwave. If I’m not careful, I might fuse with the seat.

Biju handed me an apple-flavored soda.

“You worked hard, hyung.”

“You guys worked hard too.”

Pssht.

I cracked open the can and took a long gulp. My mind cleared a little.

Sugar.

Sugar is the best.

“So? Did the filming go well?”

“Yes.”

The henchmen answered with tired faces.

They’d apparently gone all around MOP Entertainment filming interviews and footage, and it seemed they’d gotten something worthwhile out of it.

Jiho yawned.

“It’s definitely a big company. Everything runs really systematically. There’s a lot to learn. I felt like a commercial spy while filming.”

“Industrial spy.”

“Same thing.”

Normally Ri Hyuk would have corrected him, but he seemed too tired, eyes closed, lips just moving faintly.

A drowsy atmosphere.

Biju smiled at me.

“You haven’t been sleeping much lately, right, hyung?”

“A little?”

“So I prepared a gift for you.”

“What is it?”

When I looked at him with bright eyes, he shyly smiled and said it was a secret.

“That’s funny.”

“Why?”

“I prepared a gift for you guys too.”

“...Huh? Really?”

I smiled and said it was a secret to the curious henchmen.

But while Biju and I were talking, Ri Hyuk, Junhyun, and Jiho also made strange faces.

“We prepared gifts too.”

“You guys too...?”

We blinked at each other.

The mystery of the gifts was solved the next day.

“Yes, is this Sun Wooju?”

“Yes.”

“Excuse me, but are you...?”

“Yes. That Wooju.”

“I knew it!”

The employee’s voice brightened.

“We received a total of six delivery requests to Lemon Entertainment. Could you confirm the details? We’re calling to check in case it’s a duplicate order.”

“Six?”

That was strange.

“I ordered five.”

“No, there are six separate orders.”

The ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) quantity matched, but the number of orders didn’t.

Then came the question of whether thirty-five massage chairs were indeed scheduled to be delivered to Lemon Entertainment.

“.......”

Perhaps sensing my silence, the person on the other end hesitated.

“Please hold on.”

I shouted upstairs toward the dorm.

“Guys!”

“.......”

No response.

I shouted again.

“There’s meat!”

Bang!

Clack!

Crash!

“Did you grill meat?”

“Meat?”

Like a pack of retrievers at feeding time, the henchmen rushed down energetically—then glared at me.

“You said meat.”

“I’ll buy it later.”

“You’re not going to say you’ll buy meat and then take us to the dentist again, right?”

After sitting down even the suspicious maknae, I explained the situation.

“So...”

As I finished explaining, they burst into laughter.

Biju rolled around on the sofa clutching his stomach. Even Ri Hyuk let out a hollow laugh.

“So we all ordered five each like good brothers.”

“Yeah.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Hmm...”

After some thought, I concluded,

“Should we just distribute them by department? A&R team, Producing team, Management Support team, TF team... It’d be nice if each office had one.”

“That’s a good idea.”

After visiting MOP Entertainment, I’d really felt the importance of employee welfare.

If employees are happy, the company runs well!

“Ah, my body’s stiff. I’ll go to the office and get a massage.”

“After sitting in the massage chair, my hatred toward Spaceship melted away like snow. I should work harder!”

The circuits of hope in my head flared up.

I told the employee on the phone the order was correct and to proceed as is.

“Hmm...”

After hanging up, I fell into thought for a long time.

Jiho asked,

“What’s wrong?”

“Something feels off. The quantity... is it right?”

“You’re confused?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe because I haven’t been sleeping. My brain won’t work.

Five people times five each.

I turned to the maknae with a speed quiz.

“Five times seven?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Oh. Right.”

“~ridan Street.”

Ever since Itaewon’s Gyeongridan Street became famous for its unique atmosphere, variations started popping up everywhere.

Some developed organically, others were created intentionally to boost commercial districts.

Among them, Newridan Street in Sinsa-dong, Gangnam, was an organic case.

It started with the 2016 variety show Mister Producer, where NewBlack appeared as producers.

“This is a good restaurant near our company!”

“Oh!”

They had taken trainee entertainers on a tour of nearby eateries.

NewBlack really knew how to eat.

Even a single potato chip looked delicious in their hands. When they introduced restaurants, people’s appetites were bound to stir.

“I should go there too!”

As those restaurants became famous, college students and couples flooded in, and the commercial district exploded.

SNS-aesthetic cafés opened.

As the streets grew lively, various stores targeting young people followed.

“Is this the land of NewBlack?”

Foreign Souffle fans visiting Korea for tourism came on pilgrimages, further fueling the boom.

[They say there are more foreigners here than Itaewon these days (feat. Newridan Street)]

“Do you know Newridan Street?”... Weekend’s “unique street scene” goes viral

Facebook Pick: Top 10 hot cafés in Newridan Street

Thus Newridan Street became one of Seoul’s hot places.

A neighborhood that had once been quiet alleyways just a few years ago had now become international.

And.

Naturally, the center of it all was NewBlack.

Just looking at the photos plastered on restaurant and café walls told the story.

[NewBlack’s favorite pork skin place during trainee days]

[10% discount with Souffle verification]

[Welcome to Hometown of The NBLK!]

A couple narrowed their eyes at the signs.

“They all say NewBlack visited here. Is that even real?”

“Ant Wiki says it’s real. Apparently NewBlack has been to every restaurant in this neighborhood.”

“They’ve been living diligently since way back.”

The couple glanced around at colorful-eyed foreigners and tourists from Southeast Asia and Japan.

“Wow. There are so many foreigners....”

The background was Korea, but it felt like New York.

Now they understood why it was called a hot place on SNS.

They’d visited many famous neighborhoods, but never one with quite this vibe.

If there was one downside...

“We oppose the relocation of Lemon Entertainment! Oppose it!”

“Oppose it!”

“You profited off local merchants and now you’re relocating? CEO Park Gyuho, take responsibility!”

Protesters with megaphones handing out flyers.

The couple shook their heads as they passed.

“Looks like the company’s moving.”

“Yeah... oh, there it is!”

They stopped in the center of Newridan Street.

A clean, modern building with a black sign reading Lemon Entertainment.

“Oppa, take a picture of me with the sign fully visible.”

“Okay, stand there.”

“Did you get it?”

“Yeah. Looks good. Hey, take one of me too.”

After taking turns and checking their proof shots, they nodded.

I’ll post this on Instagram.

If you come to Newridan Street, of course you have to see Lemon Entertainment.

They peeked curiously at the opaque glass.

What if...

The fantasy ninety percent of visitors imagined.

NewBlack suddenly walking out of the building and running into them.

They weren’t planning to act overly familiar, but NewBlack would notice them first.

“Oh! Regular people!”

“We’ll take your picture!”

NewBlack would take their photo, and reluctantly they’d post it on SNS as proof.

Then the next day at school or work, endless handshake requests...!

But.

As if.

Most people hovered around for about five minutes with that hope before giving up.

“Shall we go?”

“Yeah...”

Just as they were about to leave—

“Hmm?”

Beep beep beep—

A massive cargo truck began backing up toward the building.

Vroooom.

Even moving slowly, its engine roared loudly.

“What is it?”

“Is it NewBlack? Are they coming out of a truck?”

“Is it NewBlack?”

But when the truck stopped and the cargo door opened, confusion spread.

Workers began unloading items onto carts.

“...Massage chairs?”

They were massage chairs.

Like tanks rolling off a military conveyor belt.

Brand-new massage chairs were wheeled into Lemon Entertainment.

“One, two, three, four...”

“Hey, some even have ribbons on them.”

As more than thirty chairs kept rolling in, people stared blankly.

Meanwhile.

If they had looked a little more closely inside the building—

“Ah! Ah!”

They might have faintly spotted NewBlack’s silhouettes.

A pale-faced member whacking the eldest and the maknae on the back with a rubber stick.

“Five times five is twenty-five! You idiots!”

“Ah! Ow!”

“I’m seriously going to burst...!”

“Ahhh!”

Maybe it was fortunate people didn’t see it.

My back still stings.

Man, that hurt.

“...People can get confused.”

Rubbing my sore back, I toured the building.

First, the A&R team.

“So? Have you tried the massage chair?”

“Yes.”

“It’s good, right?”

“It’s amazing. Technology’s gotten so good.”

Smiles bloomed across their faces.

Then the PR team, the Producing team, and so on. Everyone reacted well. They said they’d use them every lunch break.

“My shoulders feel completely loosened.”

The PR team leader grinned.

“Please tell Teen Spirit thank you too.”

“I already did.”

I’d sincerely thanked them for the surprise gift, and they hung up within three seconds because they couldn’t handle the cringe.

“PR team, Management Support team, TF team... checked.”

Watching Minki hyung and Wonseok hyung lying side by side in massage chairs going “Ahhh... bzzz... ahhh... bzzz...” I moved on.

There were more people to take care of.

“Guys. How is it!”

“Th-thank you!”

Massage chairs in the basement practice room!

Our little trainee chicks looked like they might faint.

Then they declared with teary determination,

“We’ll work really hard!”

“We’ll stay up all night using this!”

“Sure. But don’t stay up every night. Maybe once every two days. Health comes first.”

“Yes!”

After patting them, I headed to the CEO’s office.

Knock knock.

No response.

I carefully opened the door.

Three men sat side by side in chairs.

“Ahhh... bzzz... ahhh...”

The CEO’s face came into view.

“This feels better than a bathhouse massage. Ahhh...”

Was this what enlightenment looked like?

Next to him, Director Jo Gyuhwan’s sharp, fox-like face was also loosened.

“Should we order lunch? It’s a hassle to go out.”

The General Manager nodded.

“I’m getting tired of yangjangpi. Let’s have sweet chili shrimp today.”

Then again—

“Ahhh... bzzz...”

I quietly closed the door.

Employee welfare mission: success.

Happiness and laughter overflowed everywhere.

“Ah.”

Then Biju asked something important.

“But if there are thirty-five massage chairs, what about the electricity bill?”

“.......”

“.......”

“.......”

From inside the CEO’s office came cheerful laughter mixed with vibrating hums.

I stared into the distance.

“I’m sure the CEO will handle it...”

“He probably will.”

“These are adult matters. We just provide dreams and hope.”

“That is what it means to be idols.”

We nodded together, smiling contentedly.

The week of recording for Street Boys and Teen Spirit passed.

The last week of October began with good news.

[Breaking News] NewBlack’s METRO #1 on Billboard for 4 consecutive weeks

METRO had finally held the top spot for a full month.

It had started to show signs of slipping, so I hadn’t expected much—maybe that made it feel even better.

Then.

Scrolling past the entertainment section flooded with bold Billboard headlines, I saw something in sports.

“Screenshot complete.”

One headline caught my eye.

Today’s Korean Series Game 1 National Anthem... Sung by “National Idol”

I skimmed the article and turned my phone around.

“Ta-da. Ri Hyuk, you’re in the news.”

“....”

Ri Hyuk glanced at it and looked away.

“What about the comments?”

“Hold on.”

I handed my phone to Minsu in the passenger seat.

Sometimes there were strange, unpleasant comments with equal likes and dislikes, so I asked managers to screen them first.

After scanning, Minsu gave an OK sign.

“They seem positive.”

“Really...?”

To cheer up the visibly tense Ri Hyuk, we read them aloud.

“I’ll clean my ears in advance..”

We burst into laughter at the first comment.

There were lots of supportive comments telling him to do well and not be nervous.

Ri Hyuk, who had been sitting with eyes closed, opened them.

“Any comments saying they’re excited?”

“There are some.”

He probably expected “Ri Hyuk singing! I’m so excited!”

But this was the sports section.

To sports-focused readers, his vocals weren’t the main interest.

He looked slightly disappointed.

“It hasn’t even been that long since Legendary Vocalist.”

“That was two years ago.”

I smiled.

“And if there were tons of comments saying they were excited, you’d be way more nervous.”

“Well... that’s true.”

He nodded coolly, then his eyes sparkled.

“I’ll show them the ultimate national anthem today.”

The maknae snickered.

“And then he cracks on the high note—ah! Ah!”

“Don’t jinx it!”

Watching the fourth smack the maknae like dusting off a rug, I laughed.

Ri Hyuk was dressed in a sleek suit.

The black lines traced elegant angles across his shoulders—a luxury brand piece sent by the company he’d just become an ambassador for.

White shirt. Black tie.

Like he’d stepped out of a spy film gala.

“Hey. There’s dust.”

...Though watching him roll lint tape over his suit kind of ruined the image.

Anyway, today we were headed to sing the national anthem at the Korean Series.

“Do well today, Ri Hyuk.”

“Don’t pressure me.”

“....”

“No, I mean, thanks for the support.”

Today was a chance for him to show his vocals to the whole country.

Everyone already knew he sang well.

But there’s a difference between “Ri Hyuk sings well” and “Ri Hyuk is truly among the best vocalists.”

The national anthem at sports games is a stage many singers stand on.

In other words, everyone sings a cappella—direct comparison.

If he did well, viewers would naturally think, Ri Hyuk’s vocals are world-class!

“And then they’ll think, wow, Sun Wooju who stands shoulder to shoulder with Ri Hyuk must be incredible.”

“And Kim Biju standing next to them must be amazing.”

“Wang Jiho is healthy and admirable.”

“Junhyun is a rapper.”

We grinned, adding one line each.

Ri Hyuk looked at us like we were ridiculous.

In the distance, Munhak Stadium came into view.

“We’re almost there.”

I said to Ri Hyuk,

“Let’s practice once more before we go.”

“In the car?”

“It’s soundproof glass. No one can hear.”

An intersection near Munhak Stadium.

Drivers were enjoying the sunny sky.

Donghae mul and Baekdusan—

The national anthem drifted faintly, like an auditory illusion.

Drivers paused.

“Hm?”

The faint anthem grew louder.

Haneunim-i bo-uha-sa—

As if God Himself were singing beside them.

The sound grew clearer—

Vroooom.

A massive van sped past.

...Manse...

Instead of exhaust, it left the national anthem echoing behind.

Drivers stared at each other.

“Was that a human voice?”

“I think so?”

“Can a human voice be that loud?”

“......”

Thus began the urban legend of the national anthem in Incheon.