Chapter 833: Is This the Land of the New Black? (9)

At the same time.

Cheers were erupting in the United Kingdom.

"Suzy!"

"Suzy!"

Scotland, the hometown of Suzy Clark.

In pubs across the chilly, rain-soaked provincial cities, beer was selling like hotcakes.

"Suzy Clark! She’s entering her final spurt! Fantastic! It’s a sprint like a gale!"

Scottish viewers who had tuned in just in case after hearing that a prodigious talent was competing—

Dockworkers from the port city of Glasgow, still in oil-stained work clothes, held their beer mugs as if ready to hurl them.

"Yes! Just a little more!"

"Just a bit!"

The Scots roared their support.

Perhaps their cheers truly reached her.

Suzy Clark reclaimed first place—

"Wooooah!"

—and widened the gap, crossing the finish line in first.

"Waaaaaaaaaa!"

"Suzy!"

"Suzy!"

"Beer! Another beer over here!"

People embraced everywhere, clinking glasses.

Amid cheers from men with beer foam on their lips, the pub owner raised the TV volume.

"Unbelievable!"

"Honestly, I thought this Olympics would be a valuable experience for Suzy. I said she would need at least five more years to beat the Norwegian athletes! But I was wrong!"

"She’s done it!"

As the BBC announcers spoke in breathless excitement, a bold caption appeared across the bottom of the screen.

[Suzy Clark Wins Gold!]

A slow-motion replay showed her performing her celebration as she crossed the finish line.

"It’s her first Olympic gold medal!"

"To be honest, this event has always belonged to the Norwegian athletes. And now Britain has shattered that wall!"

"Britain? More like Scotland."

"Typical English lot. Always trying to claim the good stuff."

As Scottish viewers exchanged remarks like that and gulped down beer foam—

News that the United Kingdom had claimed its first Olympic gold medal swept across global media.

A massive upset: Britain had taken the gold in skiathlon, an event long dominated by Nordic athletes.

“‘Incredible’—A Skiing Prodigy Emerges in Britain”

“First Olympic Gold Goes to Scotland’s Skiing Genius”

“Gold Medalist Suzy Clark: ‘I Want to Dedicate This Honor to NewBlack’”

As befitting a Western athlete, her face plastered the front pages of Western media outlets.

BBC, Reuters, The New York Times—

As her name appeared everywhere, Britons felt a swelling pride.

"Mm?"

But scattered throughout the articles, the name NewBlack kept appearing.

Brits drinking in pubs muttered.

"Who the fuck is The New Black?"

"No idea."

Then Suzy Clark’s TV interview began playing.

The volume went up.

The cute, brown-haired athlete in her twenties screamed with both hands on her cheeks.

"First of all, congratulations from BBC, Suzy. That was truly a fantastic race."

"Thank you."

"What do you think was the key to winning this gold medal?"

Suzy Clark’s eyes turned thoughtful.

"First, I think I chose the right skis and wax for the snow conditions. In cross-country skiing, using equipment suited to the day’s conditions can determine victory or defeat. I also think my energy distribution strategy worked well."

After calmly discussing strategy and equipment, the national representative smiled.

"And the support of the people I love was a huge help! Mom, Dad, and my hometown Glasgow—I love you!"

As beer sales in Glasgow surged once again, Suzy Clark continued.

"And one of the biggest reasons for today’s victory was my Oppas."

"Oppas? What’s that?"

"It’s a nickname I use. It’s how I refer to the world’s best K-pop group, NewBlack."

"I see."

"They came to cheer for me in person today! When I saw them, I felt such a surge of strength... It’s truly the best day of my life!"

After the interview ended, BBC cut to footage.

Before the race, NewBlack was waving energetically alongside British supporters.

"Oh, them... I feel like I’ve seen them somewhere."

"Yeah, familiar faces."

Not as much as in America, but NewBlack’s fandom had been steadily growing in the UK as well.

In any case.

For the British public, that wasn’t what mattered.

“Whoever they are... thanks.”

If NewBlack’s support truly had been a driving force, they were simply grateful.

And the next day.

Newspaper stands across the UK were plastered with Suzy Clark’s face.

Amid various celebratory headlines about the first gold medal, the tabloid leader The Sun caught people’s attention.

"Mm?"

Pedestrians stopped and picked up the paper.

Above a photo of the athlete wearing pink floral goggles was a smaller image of NewBlack’s leader, known for his distinctive fashion.

A sun-shaped image.

Above an interview {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} saying she had won thanks to a member named Sun from NewBlack, The Sun’s headline read:

“Thank You, Another Sun!”

NewBlack’s name was gradually becoming known to the British public as well.

Of course—

"Dammit!"

"Who the hell is NewBlack that we lost a gold medal to them?"

"I don’t understand British taste at all. What’s so good about those tiny kids who look like elementary schoolers?"

...Along with a bit of infamy spreading in Norway.

"Oh."

New messages were flooding Instagram.

"This is new."

"What is?"

"My Instagram is getting a ton of messages."

I showed Seokhwan hyung the DMs pouring into my account.

They were increasing by hundreds in real time.

Our glasses-wearing math ghost peered at the messages.

"What is all this?"

"They’re messages that came after the Olympics ended."

First, after the Opening Ceremony, there had been a flood of Japanese messages filled with threats and poop emojis.

I hadn’t clicked them, but there were probably grotesque images and manipulated photos too.

They must have thought seeing poop emojis would upset me deeply.

"But I’ve always wondered—don’t they see it first when they send it?"

"Yeah."

"I’m genuinely curious about their psychology. If you send weird pictures, you see them first. Do they have strong stomachs?"

"Why are you asking a normal person about troll psychology? How would I know?"

"Fair point."

Anyway, Japanese netizens seemed upset about the independence movement performance included in the ceremony and were protesting to me.

"I don’t know why they’re sending it to me instead of the production team."

"You felt like the highlight of the Olympic performance. You’re positioned as the ultimate anti-Japan monster."

"Anti-Japan monster, huh."

As I laughed, Seokhwan hyung showed me a captured image on his laptop.

In a Japanese bookstore’s anti-Korea section, there was a book titled something like “The Anti-Japan Monster Raised by the Korean Government,” with our faces on the cover.

I had no idea why they edited ominous black energy swirling behind me and my younger members.

"Shouldn’t they have made it more evil-looking? I just look strong."

"Yeah... I kind of see that."

Anyway, I showed him the English messages flooding in.

"These came in after Suzy won gold yesterday."

"They’re in English."

"Yeah. Brits are thanking us like crazy. And above those, Norwegians are mostly swearing and sending death threats."

"...Should we increase security personnel? Just in case."

"I actually wanted to talk about that."

Honestly, it probably came from people who were just furious and venting at me... but it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.

I just laughed.

People say Europeans are cool and individualistic and don’t care about things like the Olympics.

But from what I see, people are the same everywhere.

"Anyway, that’s the gist."

I put my phone down and asked Seokhwan hyung,

"So why did you call me in?"

"First, I wanted to share the monitoring results from the TF team regarding the Opening Ceremony reactions."

Our TF team leader, staring at his laptop, spoke.

"First of all, there’s no need to even mention how positive the reaction was—you felt it yourself."

"I’ll admit it. I think I did pretty well...?"

Our math ghost looked at me fondly and continued.

"Even aside from the performance itself, from NewBlack’s activity standpoint, it was hugely beneficial. Combined ratings across the three terrestrial networks hit nearly fifty percent. It was a jackpot."

"Fifty percent?"

"In Korea. Japan hit thirty-two percent."

"..."

"The US recorded around twenty percent, which puts it in the Top 5 Olympic Opening Ceremony ratings of all time."

It was essentially like performing on a music broadcast stage watched by the entire world.

Maybe that’s why the metrics Seokhwan hyung showed me were dizzying.

Keywords like “Sun Wooju” and “NewBlack” had nearly a hundred million searches.

Reactions pouring in from various countries.

And—

The fancam of my stage performance was being called an “Olympics gateway fancam.”

"Wow... seriously...."

"Seriously what?"

"Do good deeds and get rewarded? Is that how it works?"

I remembered deciding to perform practically unpaid at a time when the Pyeongchang Olympics had felt unstable.

Seokhwan hyung burst out laughing.

"I really didn’t expect this level of response."

"Yeah. Who would’ve thought an idol group would make people stan them through the Olympics? But it was you guys."

I could only marvel at the unbelievable numbers.

Olympic stans.

I imagined Souffles saying, “Oh, you stanned them from Pyeongchang? Then you’re a peasant.”

Seokhwan hyung showed me the Mango site on his laptop.

"Digital performance is good too. Answer is currently real-time number one on Mango."

"Yeah, Biju showed me earlier."

"And... there are quite a few requests coming in about Answer. Like public service ads."

I nodded at the mention of requests to use Answer.

It was expected.

"You’re saying we extend the song’s lifespan through ads and various exposure routes?"

"Exactly."

Songs like Question and Answer usually didn’t have long chart lifespans.

The message was too strong.

Some movies are masterpieces you can’t watch twice.

Too emotionally exhausting.

Our father-and-son song was similar.

The energy was overwhelming—like listening to a grand symphony.

It was number one now, but I could feel it dropping off after a week from emotional fatigue.

"So where are the requests from?"

"This one is from the Ministry of Culture for a campaign about athletes. This one’s from a corporation...."

There were solid proposals that could gently let Answer seep into the public’s ears.

We reviewed them together, filtering good from bad.

"I’ll discuss it with the younger members too. Junhyun and Ri Hyuk are good at filtering these things."

"Look it over and let me know."

"Got it."

After wrapping up discussions about Opening Ceremony reactions and Answer’s digital plans—

"And I’ve got one more thing."

"Hm?"

I showed him my Instagram messages.

"I sometimes communicate with American celebrities through this. You know, ‘I’m enjoying your music’ and stuff."

Since the Grammys, I’d been actively responding to cultivate connections.

Of course, most were flirtatious messages asking if I was interested in men or inviting me to parties...

But occasionally, there were meaningful ones.

Business opportunities that were too shy to approach formally company-to-company, but could be tested privately.

"Cold Brown messaged me. He said he loved Answer and asked if I’d consider a collaboration."

"Co-Cold Brown?"

"Yeah."

One of the biggest pop stars of this era.

A top hip-hop artist dominating the American music industry.

Seokhwan hyung swallowed.

"A collaboration? What does that mean?"

"He wants to build a hip-hop track based on parts of Answer’s beat and melody. He sent a long message asking me to contact him if I’m interested."

He had written at length about how carefully he’d watched the performance, how amazing it was, how much he respected Seon Myeongju.

He wasn’t the only one to propose working with Answer, but he seemed the most sincere.

"Tell the US agency to set up a video meeting."

"I’ll do it right now."

"No need to rush."

"We have to move fast. If it’s Cold Brown... we absolutely cannot miss this opportunity, Wooju."

I laughed and waved as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Then I’m going to work."

Even as I left the TF office, I could hear him muttering in shock.

Click.

I pressed the talkback button.

"Ri Hyuk."

"Yes."

"I think your breath comes in a bit too early in the second part. Let’s enter half a breath later."

"One moment."

After humming to warm up, Ri Hyuk sang according to the direction.

Entering half a breath later made the lyrics melt better into the ear and softened the ending.

"Like this?"

"Perfect. Let’s go again."

As Ri Hyuk recorded, I couldn’t help admiring him.

The engineer beside me said,

"How is it that Ri Hyuk just keeps getting better?"

"If all you do is eat and sing, you end up like that. I’m struggling to keep up."

Our maknae grinned from behind, looking at the lyric sheet.

"But Ri Hyuk hyung has to sing well. With that personality."

"Ha!"

We burst into laughter, and the song goblin inside the booth shot us a glare.

We pretended not to notice and continued recording.

We were in the studio for our new song, White Night.

With stage preparations starting next month, we were deep into recording the title track.

"Biju."

"Yes!"

"Since it’s villain-themed, sing it with a slightly languid voice. Imagine making the air as thick as your lips... It’s hard to explain."

Since it was a genre we hadn’t done before, we needed a fresh vocal approach.

After I demonstrated, Biju nodded and began recording.

The song shifted dynamically, with many low-register sections.

"Ah... ah...."

Junhyun murmured in a low tone.

"What if my voice gets permanently husky like this...?"

"Junhyun."

"Yes."

"Just sing in your normal voice. If you go any lower, you’ll be subsonic. You’ll have to be neighbors with bats."

Someone pointed out bats use ultrasonic frequencies, but we ignored it and continued recording.

After six hours, we finished the first session.

As the younger members left for individual practice, they tilted their heads.

"Hm? Hyung, are you meeting a foreigner today?"

"I’m having a video meeting with Cold Brown."

"Oh. That."

The juniors’ eyes widened and they sat on the sofa to watch.

Junhyun, sucking on a throat candy, asked,

"So did you decide to do it?"

"Not yet."

It was an incredible opportunity.

But I wanted to hear exactly how he planned to reinterpret Answer into hip-hop.

As we talked, his face appeared on the screen.

"Oh."

A handsome African American man adjusted his mouth on screen.

T-shirt, lean build.

Curly hair and a sharp beard.

If I had to compare him to an animal, he was like a wolf.

A pack leader.

"Hi."

"It’s been a while, Cold. I think we last met at my father’s fundraiser performance."

"That’s right. Long time no see."

We weren’t close, but not strangers either.

After exchanging pleasantries, he got to the point.

"I want to say first that your Olympic performance was deeply impressive. When that face-bird was flying around, I wondered if anything could top it—and then Mr. Seon Myeongju appeared."

He went on praising my father and our stage.

His sharp eyes gleamed with intensity.

"I loved the message. Question and Answer. Recently, I’ve been looking for a theme like that—an answer. Different topic, but questions about life. I was working on a song about that when I saw your performance."

He wanted to layer Answer’s beat and melody into it.

As he calmly laid out his plans, I found myself slowly won over.

Halfway convinced, he asked,

"Do you know what you, me, and Hailey have in common?"

"People?"

At Junhyun’s comment, Cold Brown froze.

"Umm... yes, technically, but we all—at different degrees—got snubbed at the Grammys."

I nodded.

In that budding atmosphere of camaraderie, he continued.

"I’m the kind of person who has to take what I want. No matter what."

His eyes sharpened.

"I’ll get straight to it. Wooju."

"OK."

"Your vocals, my rap, and the beautiful melody of Answer underneath..."

He looked serious.

"We win the Grammy next year."

"......!"

I almost shouted “Approved!” in Korean.

"Whoaaa!"

"That’s it! That’s the spirit!"

"Ladies and gentlemen, a benefactor has arrived!"

The juniors jumped up and clapped.

On the other side of the screen, he laughed and clapped too.

"Yeah."