Chapter 1189: Are they tears? No, they are sweat. (9)

NewBlack’s first international album.

The album, built around the theme of cuisines from around the world, had drawn the attention of people across the record industry.

“How many copies do you think that thing will sell?”

The center of the music industry had shifted to streaming.

The era of buying an artist’s album and listening to it on a CD player was over.

No matter how popular a singer might be with the general public, people consumed their music digitally now. They no longer bought CDs.

But that did not mean CDs had lost their significance.

They were no longer a way to consume music like they had been in the past. Their meaning had changed. They had become merchandise for fans of a particular artist.

That was why the artists standing out in the modern physical-album market were those famous for having powerful fandoms.

“Souffle is the strongest fandom in the world right now, isn’t it? How many copies are they going to buy?”

Anyone in the industry was bound to be interested.

Now that physical albums had become collectibles, just how much purchasing power would NewBlack demonstrate?

Could this market continue to survive?

How would the market landscape change from here, and in what direction should they move?

Questions like those were everywhere.

“That’s why we need to keep a close eye on NewBlack’s album.”

“I see.”

At a gathering of industry professionals, copies of the album were placed on the table.

“So this is NewBlack’s album?”

“The design is incredibly clean.”

It had an elegant, classic design, almost like a special Blu-ray edition of a blockbuster film.

The contents inside were substantial as well.

“The booklet is really impressive.”

“It looks like a menu.”

Perhaps to emphasize the culinary concept, the album booklet unfolded with a smooth flourish like a restaurant menu.

Someone looking at it from a distance without knowing what it was might easily have mistaken it for the menu of a fine-dining restaurant.

“Ooh…”

“Oh.”

They knew nothing yet about the value of the music inside.

But as a collectible, the album package already offered more than enough value. It felt almost like looking at a small work of art.

One of the industry people spoke.

“I bet this would sell incredibly well on vinyl too. Fans go crazy for vinyl these days.”

“I heard Hailey Blue sold four hundred and fifty thousand LPs.”

A vinyl boom had recently begun in the United States.

They were discussing future business directions along those lines when—

“My God…”

At someone’s mutter, everyone turned.

The face of a record-industry representative staring at his phone had gone pale.

“Did something happen?”

“No. Look at the Billboard article right now.”

A moment later, everyone who had opened the Billboard website swallowed with the same expression.

[NewBlack Sells Two Million Albums in a Single Day]

Not one million.

Two million.

“…”

“…”

Everyone was speechless.

No… this is…

Insane.

They sold two million copies in one day?

Someone asked,

“What was the best-selling album in America last year?”

“Hailey Blue’s Summer in Blue sold eight hundred and ninety thousand. Kelly Nelson was second, wasn’t she? I think she sold around five hundred thousand.”

“That record is going to be broken this time.”

Everyone agreed in silence.

Of course, the 2.03 million copies mentioned in the article probably represented total worldwide sales, not sales in the United States alone.

But what were the odds that an album by a globally famous boy band that had sold two million copies on its first day would fail to pass one million in cumulative sales in America?

One particular reason industry insiders were paying such close attention to NewBlack this time was that the release was an English-language album.

“The sales will be incomparable to their previous K-pop albums. The same thing happened with Latin pop singers in the past.”

Because it was an English-language release, it had far more advantages in the North American market.

Conservative North American parents who had to buy albums for their children would likely feel a certain psychological comfort choosing an international album over a K-pop release whose lyrics and possible influence on their children they could not understand.

And that was not limited to North America. The same logic applied worldwide.

But that was not what mattered to the people in the room.

“Uh…”

Someone finally managed to speak.

“How is this even possible? I heard NewBlack’s previous album sold two million copies in its first week. They said it ultimately sold nearly five million… but this one sold two million in a single day?”

Opinions immediately began flying.

“Maybe their fandom grew explosively over the past year. Sound of the Sun is all anyone’s talking about right now.”

“Overcook blew up.”

“And there was the Christmas song. This isn’t the same NewBlack as before.”

One camp argued that the sales were only natural because NewBlack had become so much more successful in the meantime.

“I think the South American promotions had an effect.”

“Does South America really have that much purchasing power?”

“It isn’t a small market. Besides, they said this album has songs targeting listeners from all over the world.”

Others believed that songs aimed at major markets around the globe, not just Hot Sauce, had influenced sales.

As various opinions clashed—

“In my opinion… huh?”

The person who had lifted NewBlack’s album to make a point suddenly lowered his head.

Flash—

Something that had slipped smoothly from between the album pages caught the light.

It was…

“A trading card?”

It reminded them of the trading cards they had played with as children.

The sort with famous baseball players or characters printed on them, which children collected and traded with one another.

This one had a picture of NewBlack.

“There’s a card inside.”

“Hm? Mine has one too.”

“So does mine.”

One by one, the record-industry professionals became aware of the photo cards included in their albums.

Then they looked at one another’s cards and froze in confusion.

“What? Why are all the pictures different?”

“Everyone, bring yours over.”

Every photo card in their hands was different.

There were this many people in the room, yet hardly any of them had matching cards.

At first, the industry professionals simply stared down at the photo cards in bewilderment.

“Why would they include so many different types…?”

“Uh… because you have to collect them all?”

A brief silence followed.

Then everyone’s heads snapped up, their eyes gleaming.

“!”

“!!”

All at once, it felt as though they could hear laughter from somewhere.

The laughter of the abbot of Lemon Temple, smiling as he gazed upon the newly constructed main hall of his monastery.

Their gazes met in instant understanding.

The secret…

Was this?!

With expressions of profound enlightenment, the record-industry professionals looked down at the photo cards and nodded.

At last, we understand.

This is the path the industry must take…!

A cultural product that had originated in America was now returning there in an upgraded form.

“What?”

“How many… did you say?”

Gathered in the CEO’s office, we stared blankly.

CEO Park Gyuho spoke, his forehead gleaming.

“We couldn’t believe it either, so we checked again and again. We kept asking whether the number was truly correct.”

He nodded.

“But all we heard was that there wasn’t even the slightest margin of error.”

“It really sold that many copies?”

On the table was the number of copies our international album had sold in its first week.

[Total: 4,393,071 copies]

That was right.

4.39 million copies.

“Does that even make sense?”

At Jiho’s question, none of us could answer.

The number was too unbelievable.

Our previous release, Insomnia, whose title track was White Night, had sold two million copies.

Ri Hyuk said,

“Strictly speaking, it was 1.99 million… but this is more than double that.”

“Is it really the Fibonacci sequence?”

I remembered Souffle joking that our first-week album sales looked like the Fibonacci sequence.

Director Jo Gyuhwan smiled and lifted his coffee cup.

“Congratulations. You broke another record.”

“Uh… thank you…”

Normally, when someone told us we had broken a record, the guys and I would leap to our feet and start bouncing around.

This time, we could only stare blankly.

Does this make any sense?

Even 1.99 million had been an astonishing number.

Now it was 4.39 million.

Hanbyeol aside, no singer had yet surpassed one million in first-week sales, which made this all the more shocking.

We should have been thrilled, but we were too bewildered even for that.

“How… did this happen?”

“For starters, the size of your global fandom has grown. The difference between this album and the last one may feel jarring, but think about when the previous album came out.”

At Director Jo’s words, we thought back.

“It came out last spring.”

“You only released one album last year, but if you think about the gap, it’s been almost a full year.”

“Yes.”

“And look at everything that happened in between.”

A great many things had happened on the global stage.

Attending the Grammy Awards.

Promoting ourselves at the Met Gala.

Performing at the Time 100 Gala.

Collaborating with Cold Brown on Answer.

The worldwide success of Overcook.

Our volunteer work in Alaska, followed by the Christmas song that ultimately reached number two on the holiday charts.

Sound of the Sun, blazing as brilliantly as the sun itself.

And most recently, Hot Sauce.

Junghyun exclaimed,

“We really did gather fans like some giant spirit bomb.”

“That’s right.”

Director Jo agreed.

“This is the first album purchased by all the new Souffles who became your fans recently. We believe that had a major effect.”

As we nodded, his explanation continued.

“And it’s also because this is an international album. English naturally presents a lower barrier for people around the world.”

“Hm…”

“It’s a slightly unfair reason from our perspective, though.”

I understood what he meant.

Becoming a Souffle did not necessarily mean someone would like all of our music.

They might have become a fan through Overcook while still having no interest in our older songs with Korean lyrics.

“So some people see us as pop stars rather than K-pop stars.”

“Exactly.”

But since we had succeeded in the American market in a position closer to that of pop stars, it could not be helped.

Ever since we had decided to distinguish between domestic and international activities as the scope of our work expanded, our Korean and overseas releases had begun to carry slightly different textures.

“There are various reasons, but to sum it up…”

Director Jo smiled.

“It’s because this album is that good. Everyone claims their own analysis is correct, but that’s how I see it.”

We agreed.

It had been a long time since our last album, and we had filled this one with songs created through truly grueling effort.

“People may say fans buy albums simply out of loyalty, but fans aren’t fools. No matter how devoted they are, they understand the value of the money they spend better than anyone.”

“I really hope that’s true.”

“I’m telling you the truth. You can see it in the sales trend too. You’ll probably end up with a lifetime total unlike anything you’ve ever seen.”

“…Maybe we’re just confused because it’s such good news.”

At our words, CEO Park Gyuho and Director Jo Gyuhwan smiled.

Only then did we lean back against the sofa and let out dazed laughs.

“Wow…”

“Wow, hyung. I seriously can’t process this.”

“Neither can I.”

Biju’s limp cheek came to rest against my shoulder.

As I leaned lightly against Junghyun in turn, CEO Park Gyuho wiped away sweat with a handkerchief.

“I could scarcely believe it myself… but now I find myself tremendously excited. Just think of how many things we’ll be able to do with this money. Hohohoho.”

After laughing benevolently, he asked us,

“Of course, you boys have priority when it comes to deciding how that money will be used. Is there anything you want to do?”

“Could I form a dance crew, CEO?”

“Of course. Biju, put together a good one.”

As the others began sharing their wishes, I raised my hand.

“CEO.”

“Yes.”

“Huh?”

“No, no. Wooju.”

“Heh heh, why did I suddenly use formal speech?” he muttered.

I said,

“Our next album coming out this spring will be for our domestic promotions, right?”

“Yes.”

“The second half of last year was focused heavily on overseas activities, so I’d like to put more weight behind this Korean album. The music video too. I want to make the whole thing much larger in scale.”

“How large a budget are you thinking?”

“Uh… about this much?”

I wrote the amount on a piece of paper and showed him.

CEO Park Gyuho’s face went pale.

“I-I see.”

“Would that be too much for the company…?”

“Of course not.”

He promised to prepare everything to the best of his ability, and I smiled.

Just as everyone was beginning to rise from their seats—

“Oh, right.”

Director Jo Gyuhwan spoke as though he had remembered an amusing topic.

“Want to hear something interesting?”

“What is it?”

“Chinese fans usually account for a large share of first-week physical album sales, don’t they?”

“Yes.”

“The raw number is certainly high, but proportionally speaking, Greater China didn’t make up that large a share of your first-week sales this time.”

We nodded in understanding.

That was only natural.

We did not promote in China, so why would we have a large fandom there?

“What’s interesting is that the number of your fans in China is growing.”

“…What?”

“Ever since all that commotion involving Hanbyeol, your fandom there seems to have expanded. You could say the recent incident ended up becoming marketing for you.”

We reacted with startled noises when he told us our Chinese fandom was growing at an extremely rapid pace.

Jiho said,

“Wow. We should treat Hanbyeol sunbae really well.”

“Seriously.”

“We’re so grateful.”

The underlings who said that turned to me and told me to be good to Hanbyeol.

I laughed and waved them off.

“Oh, come on. Don’t worry. I’m already treating her extremely well…”

Recent memories flashed through my mind.

“Secretary Jang. Water.”

“Yes, Chairwoman. I brought your water.”

“Now my head and shoulders.”

“Head, shoulders, knees, and toes, knees and toes~”

“I meant massage my head and shoulders. Not do the dance…”

“Ah, sorry. It was the first thing I learned after coming to Korea.”

I subtly avoided the gazes of the others, who were staring blankly at me.

Our main vocalist noticed immediately.

“You’ve been treating her badly lately, haven’t you?”

“…I can start treating her well now.”

After all, there was no such thing as being too late to repay a debt, even ten billion years from now.

Director Jo had been right.

Even after the first week, when sales were usually at their strongest, our album continued to sell briskly.

Our TF team leader said,

“It’s still too early to be certain, but I think the final total could reach the ten-million range.”

“This is seriously huge…”

Now I understood why artists all over the world tried to release albums in English.

“Waaaaaah…”

“Waaaaaah…”

The guys and I shed streaming tears as we high-fived.

“Let’s work hard, everyone.”

“Yes.”

Something I had learned from working in the entertainment industry was that joy was always brief, while suffering lasted a long time.

When you reached a new career high, you were happy for a day or two.

After that, the worries began.

It was advice Cold Brown had once given me.

“A career high is a double-edged sword. Everyone praises you, but the person who achieved it ends up sinking into a swamp of anxiety.”

“What kind of anxiety?”

“‘How do I maintain this now?’”

He had been right.

Of course, various additional factors had helped produce results we might never see again, but it was also true that expectations for our future activities had risen.

It was like how, after Korea reached the semifinals in the 2002 World Cup, everyone started saying that making the round of sixteen in the next World Cup should be a given.

“Ah. My stomach hurts.”

I was already worrying endlessly about the next album, and my stomach kept burning.

Ri Hyuk asked with concern,

“Are you okay?”

“I went to the hospital. I’m fine.”

“What did the doctor say?”

“It’s mild gastritis. He told me not to let anything spicy so much as touch my lips for a while.”

It seemed my stomach had taken too much punishment during our promotions in Central and South America.

I shuddered as I remembered the lecture I had received from a doctor whose personality strongly resembled Ri Hyuk’s.

Then Junghyun opened the conference-room door.

Click.

“Hello!”

“Hi~ Did South America treat you well?”

The room we entered belonged to the production team of Newniverse.

As we all took our seats, I asked,

“Is everything ready?”

“Perfectly. All that’s left is to leave.”

While the outside world buzzed over our album sales, we had gathered to begin an important new project.

It was a Lunar New Year variety special we had spent the past several months planning with the production team, and now only the departure remained.

Newniverse Side Story: Chefs of Antarctica.