Chapter 1072: Overcooked (25)

The venue buzzed with unease.

"Th-That..."

"Uh..."

The producers of Supernova Dodgeball couldn't even finish their sentences. All they could do was point toward the stage.

That lunatic!

It felt like their chests were about to explode.

Their hearts pounded wildly. They wanted to storm the stage and drag the singer off right then and there.

Josh Liu, the event's chief director, stared blankly and muttered,

"I heard that wrong, didn't I? That's what happened, right? I must be hallucinating."

"I think we're screwed, Director."

"..."

His hands trembled.

The atmosphere of the event they had spent the last month building through sleepless nights was collapsing in real time.

Oh Miss America—

My dream, my world

On stage, country music legend Beau Riley sang enthusiastically.

In front of him stood an expressionless audience.

Celebrities who had been watching nearby were quietly leaving the arena as though staging a collective boycott, while every time the cameras panned toward the crowd, they captured awkward smiles and forced flag-waving.

The music was loud.

Yet somehow the venue felt silent.

"Oh..."

"Uhhh..."

Even the commentators had temporarily lost the ability to speak.

All they could do was stare at the stage.

The atmosphere that had been running at one hundred and twenty percent excitement just moments earlier had instantly sunk into near silence.

All because of Beau Riley's remarks.

-I watched today's event and realized something. We all deserve respect.

-That's right!

-Which is why, after today's friendly match between Canada and America, I'd like to say: Long live the Republicans!

-Uh... what?

The country musician's statement—that everyone possessed freedom of expression protected by the Constitution—was technically correct.

And political commentary from entertainers wasn't unusual in America.

Whenever major issues arose, reporters would ask celebrities for their opinions on red carpets.

At award ceremonies, some stars spent their acceptance speeches talking about environmental issues or human rights instead of thanking people.

The problem was simply that this was the worst possible place for it.

Why here of all places...?!

The production staff wanted to cry.

Everyone else had been talking about friendship and unity between Canada and America.

Then this country musician suddenly dragged domestic politics into it.

Since the event was essentially diplomatic in nature, every statement performers made on stage had been coordinated beforehand.

-Please refrain from making comments that have not been approved in advance.

Even Hailey Blue, famous for being completely uncontrollable, had respected that rule.

But this musician had blindsided everyone by delivering a politically charged speech without warning.

Josh Liu felt tears welling up.

The event I worked so hard to build...

One speech was about to bury the entire thing.

Now every news outlet would start publishing headlines like:

Beau Riley says... at Supernova Dodgeball.

Internet users would begin arguing endlessly about his comments.

And before long, Supernova Dodgeball itself would become a political controversy.

Then—

"Director, should we prepare the next stage?"

"Huh?"

"NewBlack's performance."

"Ah...!"

The broadcast accident unfolding before fifty million live viewers.

The director, who had been on the verge of a mental breakdown, suddenly came back to his senses.

NewBlack!

Beau Riley wasn't the final act.

There was still another performance.

Realizing there was still a chance, life returned to his eyes.

He hurried over to the five members who were warming up backstage.

"Are you ready?"

"Yep."

Wooju flashed a grin.

For some reason, the confidence in that smile made the director unconsciously swallow.

"...First, I'd like to apologize for the unfortunate incident that occurred. Those comments were not approved beforehand."

"That isn't your fault, Director."

"I know this is an unreasonable request. But you're the only ones who can save the atmosphere now."

He looked at the members seriously.

"I'm begging you."

The truth was, he didn't even know what exactly he was asking them to do.

How was anyone supposed to fix this?

And yet the members of NewBlack simply smiled and nodded.

"We'll do our best."

The director's expression brightened slightly.

"If there's anything you need, we'll provide it. There isn't much time left, but..."

"Hmm."

Wooju {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} smiled.

"Then please take good care of the lighting. A stage is all about the lighting, right?"

"Anything else?"

"Can we use whatever fireworks are left over from the highlights?"

"I'll give you every single one."

"And?"

At that, NewBlack's leader adjusted the guitar hanging from his shoulder.

"How much time do we have?"

"Ten minutes."

"That's enough."

He grinned.

The members immediately began moving behind him.

This was the kind of situation that should have made anyone nervous.

Yet none of them hesitated for even a second as they followed their leader.

Their eyes were filled with trust.

Bright stage lights poured down over them.

"..."

For reasons he couldn't explain, Director Liu briefly felt as though they were glowing.

After giving Director Liu a reassuring smile—

While waiting backstage, I turned to the others and confidently spoke in Korean.

"Guys, what do we do? This is a disaster."

"We're totally screwed."

The others replied with equal confidence.

"This is bad..."

"I'm seriously so nervous I could die."

Outwardly, we were putting on confident faces for the Americans around us.

Inside, we were shaking.

I encouraged the others.

"Don't worry too much. We just have to follow the plan."

During Beau Riley's ten-minute set, we'd held an emergency strategy meeting.

Not that much had actually changed.

We'd mostly agreed on a general direction for the performance.

And the core of that plan was simple:

-Let's trust ourselves.

Once we got on stage, we'd have to make it work with our own abilities.

Honestly, it was a little vague.

Like sending a substitute into a soccer match while down four goals and saying:

"Just score five goals and we'll be fine!"

"..."

"..."

No matter how you looked at it, this wasn't easy.

North American audiences were different from Korean audiences.

And this wasn't a crowd filled with Souffle members who would cheer for us no matter what.

Nor was it an audience at a music awards show.

These were ordinary people.

Very ordinary people.

And now we somehow had to revive the atmosphere.

As everyone knew, building excitement was hard.

But rebuilding it after it collapsed was even harder.

Like when a fight breaks out during a gathering of friends.

Even if everyone laughs afterward, the mood never quite returns to normal.

"Hmm..."

Junghyun scratched the back of his head.

"There's really no trick to it. We just have to go up there and perform well."

"Exactly."

At that moment, Biju, who had been gracefully stretching his wrists like a swan, spoke up.

"This might be random, but it reminds me of our debut days. Do you remember the Icheon event?"

"Ah. Of course."

"How could anyone forget?"

Everyone nodded at Ri Hyuk's words.

Back then, TeenSpirit's vehicle had gotten into a minor accident.

We'd been forced to jump in as emergency replacements.

Standing in front of angry TeenSpirit fans and a hostile audience.

The memory resurfaced vividly.

"It feels similar."

Biju smiled.

"So we can do it again. Just like back then."

"Exactly."

Jiho nodded.

"Let's do it with the same mindset."

"...Why are you talking like that?"

"I'm trying to reconnect with my roots. I'll go back to normal after this, so stop looking so happy."

Then the youngest member puffed out his cheeks and practically announced,

"Aren't I adorable?"

Everyone burst out laughing.

That's right.

The youngest member's purpose in life was cuteness.

"NEWBLACK! GET READY!"

Cheers drifted over from the stage.

Beau Riley was coming off after receiving polite applause from the crowd.

Jingle, jingle.

"Hm?"

I turned.

A man dressed like a cowboy was walking backstage.

Orange hair.

Thick beard.

"Ah. NewBlack!"

The spurs on his boots clinked as he approached.

Country music legend Beau Riley extended his hand and winked.

"First time meeting you. Sorry about all this. I honestly didn't expect that reaction. Shame."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Riley."

"Next time, call me Beau."

With that, he tipped his cowboy hat and wandered away.

I watched the retreating figure of a man whose entire demeanor practically screamed:

"Not really my fault though, haha."

Then I shook my head.

Ri Hyuk looked like he had roughly ten thousand things he wanted to say.

I patted his shoulder.

"Alright. Let's do one cheer before we go."

"What should the slogan be?"

I grinned.

"Let's shout the thing we're planning to say later."

"...Huh. That actually works."

The others laughed and nodded.

Nearby, the managers filming behind-the-scenes footage with handheld cameras smiled.

"Alright. One, two, three!"

"Wait... this actually works?!"

We laughed together.

Then I adjusted my guitar.

"You may go on now!"

At the staff member's signal, we took a deep breath.

Cheers echoed from outside.

Smiling, I placed the mascot headpiece on top of my head.

Feeling the weight of the animal mask perched like a headband, I muttered,

"Let's do this."

We'd done it before.

We'd just do it again.

The atmosphere was nearly silent.

The audience sat waiting for the next performance after the excitement had been completely shattered.

Then—

[Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome our next guests!]

Everyone cheered.

"WOOOOOOOOOO!"

At this point, they simply wanted someone—anyone—to come out and make things fun again.

The introduction continued.

[A global superstar beloved by tens of millions of fans and a Grammy Award nominee!]

[Please welcome NewBlack, home of today's MVP!]

"WOOOOOOOOOO!"

The crowd erupted.

This should be fun.

For some reason, that was the feeling people had.

After all, this was the group that included Wooju and Junghyun, who had produced dozens of legendary moments during today's game alone.

Even viewers watching from home found themselves intrigued.

"Hey, have you ever actually watched a NewBlack performance?"

"No."

"Me neither. I only know the songs."

Many people knew some of the music.

Few had ever watched the performances.

"Well, it'll probably be entertaining."

Then the members of NewBlack came jogging onto the stage.

And everyone immediately started laughing.

They're adorable!

Teenage boys wearing animal mascot heads like headbands.

The faces visible beneath the animal masks drew smiles from all around the arena.

-Who's the fox guy? Become my boyfriend.

-What's the deer's name? Hurry.

-Biju.

-The most beautiful thing I've seen all day...

While online reactions focused on how cute they were—

Wooju, wearing rabbit ears, strummed an electric guitar and greeted the audience.

"Hello, everyone! We're NewBlack!"

Glitter sparkled around his eyes.

As the gentle sound of the guitar echoed through the arena, NewBlack's leader spoke.

"First, regarding what happened a few moments ago..."

Everyone tensed.

"We'd like to begin by clarifying that we're Korean."

The entire crowd burst out laughing.

It was the perfect answer.

A smooth sidestep that offended absolutely nobody.

Then Wooju smiled.

"But."

The smile seemed to pull everyone's eyes toward him.

"We have one special power."

The audience waited.

"We can make you dance."

The crowd roared.

"Are you ready? Then before the main performance begins, let's do a little warm-up."

Standing center stage, he casually strummed his guitar.

The audience immediately began swaying.

A familiar intro.

At first it sounded like Johnny B. Goode.

Then, little by little, the melody transformed.

People watching from home began murmuring.

"Wait..."

"Oh! It's that song!"

Even people who knew nothing about NewBlack recognized it.

Uncle Bunny.

The children's song transformed into upbeat rock and roll.

The cameras captured children bouncing excitedly while lifeless flags once again began fluttering.

Jiho, wearing fox ears, thrust out his microphone.

"Everybody!"

The crowd laughed.

Singing a children's song like this felt ridiculous.

And incredibly fun.

Soon everyone joined in.

Bunny Bunny

Uncle Bunny—

A children's song so famous it had inspired flash mobs around the world.

The chorus was recognizable to almost everyone thanks to its viral spread.

I can't believe I'm singing a children's song here.

Staff members jumped up and down.

Celebrities joined in.

Everyone worked together to revive the atmosphere.

Because if they failed—

Their own appearances tonight would disappear beneath the controversy.

-If we don't save this event, we're all doomed...

Cold Brown and his entourage appeared on camera wearing sunglasses while dancing dramatically.

Summer Blue sat atop Hailey Blue's shoulders, throwing up peace signs while singing along.

Moonlight danced too.

Actors.

Musicians.

Everyone at the event united behind a single goal.

Save the atmosphere.

"One more time, everybody!"

The image burned itself into viewers' minds.

The leader exchanging smiles with the drummer behind him while playing guitar.

The members dancing in animal headbands.

"Hahahahaha!"

"Hahaha!"

After the audience finished enthusiastically singing Uncle Bunny, the members raised their microphones.

"Everybody warmed up?!"

"YEAHHHH!"

The response thundered through the arena.

"Then let's move right into the next song!"

The lights cut out.

Then exploded back on.

Dancers flooded onto the stage.

The audience immediately started laughing.

"What is that?"

"That's adorable!"

Every dancer wore a full-body costume.

Tomatoes.

Cabbages.

Onions.

Eggs.

A swarm of ingredients from a refrigerator had apparently invaded the stage.

"Hahahaha!"

Tomatoes and potatoes ran into each other and fell over.

Vegetables crashed around chaotically.

The choreography looked completely uncoordinated.

Total chaos.

Then—

The music began.

Chop chop chop chop.

The sound of knives striking cutting boards.

Clink.

Clink.

Bubble bubble.

Fwoooooosh.

A frying pan being lifted.

Food boiling in a pot.

A kettle whistling.

All the sounds merged together.

The intro of Overcooked emerged in a brand-new arrangement.

"Wooooow..."

Gradually the chaotic formations began changing.

The movement became orderly.

Harmonious.

Unified.

The greatest dancers in the world, dressed as vegetables, transformed the stage before everyone's eyes.

Then—

As the intro reached its peak—

FWOOOOOOOSH!

Like the Red Sea parting, the vegetables split apart.

And today's stars appeared.

The spotlight illuminated five figures.

"WAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

NewBlack.

Dressed in black chef uniforms.

Standing with folded arms.

At the center, the lead vocalist smiled and raised his microphone.

Thank you for waiting,

Dear customers.

His voice alone felt refreshing.

We apologize.

We burned all the food.

Laughter and cheers exploded from the audience.

The members removed their chef hats and bowed like gentlemen.

Then—

Flick!

The hats flew into the crowd.

Audience members scrambled to catch them.

Meanwhile, viewers sat hypnotized before their televisions as the melody of Overcooked began in earnest.

"Wooooow..."

Members swayed their shoulders with folded arms.

The leader stood at the front holding the microphone.

And beneath them appeared the caption:

[OVERCOOKED]

53 million live viewers.

In every meaningful sense—

This was the true North American debut stage of NewBlack.