Chapter 843: Is This the Land of the New Black? (19)

10 minutes earlier.

Jang Hanbyeol spotted the two-man team approaching him and greeted them.

“Long time no see.”

“Yes! Haha! It’s been a while, Mr. Hanbyeol.”

The two bowing politely were members of the planning team from TJ Entertainment.

The moment he saw their faces, he already guessed their purpose.

The planning team had nothing to do on-site. Unless it was something special, there was no reason for them to come all the way to Pyeongchang in Gangwon Province, far from Seoul.

Unless they were trying to meet a singer who had been avoiding their calls.

“If it’s not too much trouble, do you have a moment?”

“No.”

Jang Hanbyeol replied with a bright smile.

“I don’t. I’m busy.”

“Please don’t say that. We only need five minutes. Just five. We’re not here to cause any trouble.”

Hanbyeol’s eyes scanned his surroundings.

No one stood nearby.

A bitter taste rose in his mouth.

If he had a manager, he could at least signal for them to shake these people off.

But he currently had no agency.

“It doesn’t look very good to keep clinging to someone who clearly doesn’t want to talk. If you keep this up, I’ll call security.”

“Just five minutes... Five is enough.”

He swallowed the harsh words that rose to his throat and asked,

“What exactly do you want to say?”

“We’re well aware that you have many grievances toward our company, Mr. Hanbyeol. We’ve done a lot of reflecting. Perhaps there were simply differences in perspective between us.”

“So you’re saying it was mutual fault?”

“.......”

“If you’ve done something wrong, just say you’re sorry. Don’t try to dodge responsibility.”

Jang Hanbyeol let out a sigh at the sight of the TJ Entertainment planning team trying, even now, to smooth it over with, “It’s not entirely our fault, it’s mutual.”

‘Communication only works if both sides talk.’

Wasn’t it a situation where one side talked endlessly while the other simply ignored it?

—Lately it feels like there’s too much activity in China... Fans in Korea are waiting too.

—Please just wait a little longer, Mr. Hanbyeol! Honestly, it’s too good an opportunity to miss. If you expand your activities in China, TNT’s presence there will widen too. You know how important overseas popularity is these days, right?

—Then what about my activities in Korea...?

—Don’t worry. We’ll prepare something soon!

Except for music shows and variety appearances in Korea, TJ Entertainment had run him nonstop in China.

It wasn’t all bad.

Thanks to those activities, Jang Hanbyeol had risen to become a representative superstar in the Greater China region.

A Chinese-language album that became a massive hit.

A leading role in a Chinese drama that ended to great popularity.

Even now, after being on hiatus for over a year, scripts continued to pour in.

But was he grateful?

Not really.

If parents ignored a child’s wishes, forced them to study mercilessly, sent them to Peking University, and then demanded gratitude—would that truly be something to be thankful for?

—Huh? Isn’t Peking University basically China’s Seoul National? If it’s like Seoul National, maybe you should be grateful.

Ignoring the hallucination-like voice of a certain older brother, Hanbyeol looked at the TJ employee rambling in front of him.

It felt like his ears would grow calluses.

The same words he had heard every time.

“From now on, we’ll make sure your wishes are never ignored....”

“We can provide unlimited support for your Korean activities....”

Words were easy.

What mattered was action.

And after seven years, Hanbyeol was thoroughly sick of TJ Entertainment’s actions.

‘I’ve endured enough.’

He had seen many Chinese members who entered K-pop leave and establish personal studios.

He had had plenty of chances himself.

There were constant temptations—from suggestions to open his own studio to outright offers.

But it wasn’t worth throwing away the name TNT.

If you counted his trainee years, he had spent ten years at TJ Entertainment.

If he had devoted ten years, shouldn’t they at least grant what he wanted?

As he clenched his teeth, recalling the times he had been stopped again and again when trying to board a flight to Korea—

“We can also adjust the ratio. We can even go as far as nine to one....”

Looking at the planning team employee still babbling in front of him, he felt the last shred of affection he had left cool completely.

“Excuse me.”

Hanbyeol cut him off.

“There’s one thing I want to ask.”

“Yes! Of course, Mr. Hanbyeol!”

“Do you know what day it is today?”

“Uh... Saturday the 24th, isn’t it?”

Hanbyeol let out a sigh.

“You know it’s the day before the closing ceremony, right?”

“Yes. We’re well aware. The anticipation for TNT’s full lineup performance—my wife and daughter are—”

“You came knowing it’s the day before the closing ceremony?”

“Yes, since you’re such a—”

“Why did you come?”

That was the part he understood least—and the part that angered him most.

“You’ve worked in planning. You know how sensitive artists are before a comeback or a concert, don’t you?”

“Th-that’s true.”

“I understand you want to persuade me. But did you really have to choose the day before such an important stage? If I were in your position, I’d avoid a day like this.”

“.......”

If they had even basic consideration, they wouldn’t show up on such an important day and cling to him about contracts.

At their hesitation, Hanbyeol narrowed his eyes.

‘Hmm?’

Judging by the atmosphere, it didn’t seem like orders from higher-ups. It looked like they had come on their own.

Indeed, it wasn’t something the newly appointed CEO Han Yeongjun would do.

Immediately, the internal situation of TJ Entertainment unfolded in his mind.

‘The planning team must be losing ground.’

He had heard from the other TNT members how the company was currently operating.

When Chairman Park Taejun stepped down, the planning team leader, who was related to him, stepped down as well.

The planning team, which had always held real power at TJ Entertainment, had lost influence, while Director Han Yeongjun’s line had taken control of practical operations.

Cornered like that, the planning team must be trying to prove their value by—

‘Recruiting me.’

Once he pieced it together, it was absurd.

“Go back.”

“Mr. Hanbyeol.”

“I don’t think there’s anything more to say.”

As he turned to leave, the two employees stepped in front of him.

They were tall and broad, which made the situation look even worse.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Ah, well....”

They looked startled themselves, as if they hadn’t meant to block him so blatantly.

“I asked what you’re doing.”

“...Please just listen a little longer, Mr. Hanbyeol.”

He was about to call security.

Peek.

A stranger in a hood stuck their head out from the corner.

‘Who is that?’

Familiar yet unfamiliar.

Someone who blended into the surroundings like camouflage—like they were using stealth.

Their eyes met.

‘Wooju hyung?’

He wasn’t sure, but those eyes looked exactly like Sun Wooju’s.

Sparkling.

There was only one person in the country whose eyes shone like the stars of a madman.

Spotting Sun Wooju, Hanbyeol entertained a brief fantasy—and then acted on it.

“If I ever have a conversation with CEO Han Yeongjun soon, I suppose I’ll have to mention both of your names.”

“.......”

“I was hesitating because I still had a bit of attachment left toward TJ Entertainment. But thanks to you two, I’ve made up my mind.”

He waved toward someone in the distance.

The moment the two TJ employees turned their heads—

“Huh? Hanbyeol, why are you over there?”

Sun Wooju approached them with an utterly natural expression, as if they had simply run into each other by chance.

The planning team employees’ eyes widened.

“Uh....”

Perhaps because they had been part of the planning team that once argued for Sun Wooju’s release.

They were familiar with him from his trainee days, yet instead of casually saying “Wooju,” they stiffly said,

“H-hello, Mr. Wooju.”

“Hello. You’re from the planning team, right?”

“Yes....”

“Nice to see you. What brings you here?”

The planning team members, stammering, soon fled as if escaping.

Hanbyeol let out a hollow laugh.

‘Major shareholder power really is strong.’

When someone with industry influence appeared, the other side immediately backed down.

But the smile lasted only a moment.

“Damn it!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Ah! I was going to say something...!”

Hanbyeol clutched his head.

Then he struck a dramatic pose.

“I was going to do this. You know in dramas how the rich male lead appears in front of the female lead? While those two were like ‘uh, uh?’ I was going to grab your hand and say, ‘I’m going to Lemon.’”

“Have you been watching too many dramas?”

“Ugh, whatever.”

Having failed to create his cool scene, Hanbyeol pouted.

He glanced at Wooju, who was chuckling quietly.

“So... how much did you see?”

“From when you asked what they were doing...? The two of them were blocking you.”

“Ah.”

So he had only seen the last part.

But judging from the way Wooju’s eyes had shifted slightly, he seemed to have grasped everything.

Maybe because someone he could rely on had appeared, the tip of Hanbyeol’s nose stung.

For some reason, he felt wronged.

“Gangwon Province really is cold. Even indoors.”

Wooju joked about the chill in the corner and handed him a cocoa.

“Want some?”

“Thanks.”

As the warm cocoa scent spread through his body, Hanbyeol stared at the cup for a moment before turning.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“Can we move up my contract?”

At Hanbyeol suddenly asking to move up the contract, I tilted my head.

“Weren’t you planning to sign in the second half of this year?”

“I was.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Hmm....”

We walked slowly as we talked.

Hanbyeol sniffed and said,

“That felt kind of pathetic just now.”

“Did it?”

“I didn’t realize how miserable it feels to walk around without an agency. I couldn’t even find a way to cut off those two just now.”

It was true that having a manager would have made it easier.

Hanbyeol let out a sigh.

“I’m someone who values loyalty a lot, hyung. I believe you have to keep your loyalty no matter the situation.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why I like our members and you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re good people.”

At my tilted head, Hanbyeol continued,

“No matter what happens, I’ll stand by my people. In that sense, I’m lucky the people I like are good people.”

Memories surfaced of how weak he was to affection in the past.

“So I was trying to keep faith with TJ Entertainment too. To give us time to part cleanly, business-wise.”

“.......”

“But I guess I was the only one who had any attachment.”

I understood the hollow laugh of someone hit with reality.

Showing up the day before an important stage to push contracts—it was enough to kill any remaining affection.

I smiled.

“So that’s why you’re rushing the contract?”

“Yeah. I think I need an agency quickly. It’s not like we can’t do full-group activities just because I’m with another company.”

“I’ll talk to the CEO for you.”

“I’m counting on you~”

Hanbyeol, back to his usual self, clung to me with a grin.

Like a golden retriever whose mood had instantly improved, he showered affection.

Back when we were trainees, someone once said:

“Hey, Jang Hanbyeol. Do you have affection deficiency or something? It’s hot as hell and you’re always clinging.”

“I don’t have affection deficiency!”

With a proud expression:

“I have affection excess!”

That was right.

The youngest, raised with endless love from his parents and family.

Because of that, he couldn’t stand the idea of people not liking him. Like, even after all this, you still don’t like me?

When I first met him in the U.S., his face was filled with existential burnout. Now he seemed much closer to his old self.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just because I’m happy.”

“Because I’m cute?”

“.......”

As we were heading back toward the stadium—

A middle-aged Chinese man greeted Hanbyeol in the hallway.

“Actor Jang! Long time no see.”

“Have you been well, Director?”

While they exchanged greetings, I introduced myself.

“Yang Yuan.”

“Sun Wooju.”

When he looked at me and exclaimed, “NewBlack!” I was slightly surprised too.

It was Director Yang Yuan, famous in China for wuxia films. Seeing someone I had watched on TV as a kid felt surreal.

“Seeing Actor Jang makes me so happy. You’ve been resting lately. Any special plans?”

“For now, I’m focusing on music.”

“I see. If you ever need work, give me a call. If Actor Jang stars, I’ll create a spot even if there isn’t one.”

After enthusiastically pitching to Hanbyeol, Director Yang Yuan left for a meeting.

I’d heard he was extremely strict about acting.

The way he looked at Hanbyeol like a prized actor made my eyes sparkle.

“You must be really good at acting.”

“I haven’t acted in Korean, so I’m not sure... but in China I got a lot of praise.”

“Oh?”

“What? You haven’t watched my drama?”

“It has to be on OTT first.”

“Ah. Fair.”

As we continued complaining about TJ Entertainment making him act in China but not even importing the drama to Korea, I smiled.

Dance, singing, acting.

It felt satisfying to have recruited a true multi-entertainer.

The rehearsal the day before the closing ceremony ended smoothly.

Now it was time to conserve condition and explode it later.

Even though everyone had clearly rested well—

“Ugh....”

“Ugh.”

“Morning’s cold.”

Everyone looked pale.

Dark circles under his eyes, Ri Hyuk said,

“I was so nervous I couldn’t sleep at all.”

“Me too....”

“Same.”

Penguins everywhere buried their faces in each other’s shoulders, sobbing dramatically.

The only ones who looked relatively fine were Junhyun and me.

“Well, Junhyun’s healthy, so that makes sense.”

Daylight’s Dabom asked,

“Wooju, you look okay.”

“Yeah. I slept pretty well.”

I’d been taking care of my health lately, and since I’d already performed at the opening ceremony, the pressure felt lighter.

“Compared to standing alone at the opening ceremony, this feels manageable.”

“Ah....”

“How did you stand there alone? I’m about to die from nerves.”

The Daylight members clutched their chests.

Even thirteen-year idols who had seen everything were nervous at the weight of the Olympics.

We barely ate breakfast before heading straight to the Olympic Stadium.

Same schedule as yesterday.

“All right! Just today and we’re done!”

Director Kim Ikhwan clapped to encourage us.

“Once today’s over, the Olympic marathon is finished. We’re done after today. After today, we can dump everything on the Paralympics directing team and run— I mean, leave!”

It sounded like he was talking to himself.

He’d apparently gotten two implants from stress preparing the opening ceremony for a year.

“One, two, three! Fighting!”

“Fighting!”

Today followed a similar schedule.

Wrapped tightly in padding and gloves against the cold, repeating rehearsals, checking routes.

On the snow-white stage, breathing out clouds, checking movements again and again.

Biju ran up and grabbed my hand.

“Hyung. I can’t feel my hands...!”

“Me neither....”

“Me too....”

The main dancers, who had taken off their gloves to see hand movements clearly, held out frozen hands.

Like they were staring at a magical club.

Sometimes it felt like Biju believed I could solve every problem.

“Biju. If you hold your hands out like that, do you think I can fix them?”

“Yes....”

“Right. I can.”

The problem was that I actually could.

I quickly massaged the main dancers’ hands, restoring circulation.

After rehearsal, while waiting, we greeted other singers who had arrived.

“Hello.”

Cha Woohyun, one of Korea’s representative ballad vocalists.

We greeted familiar singers from Famous Song Squad and turned to others.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am!”

“Oh my, so many of you came to greet me. Go take care of your work comfortably.”

We bowed to Gyeon Seonghwa, the trot queen in her fifties.

And—

“Eh.”

“Teacher~”

“Well, I don’t even know who’s in front of me. You invited that American girl and that Australian geezer to the encore concert but not me.”

“Teacher~!”

We also warmly greeted Noh Jaehyun, the original singer from the first round of Famous Song Squad.

He complained about not being invited to the encore concert, but it wasn’t hard to appease him.

He was just like Ri Hyuk.

“Teacher, you look so handsome today.”

“Hmph.”

“You’re so cute today.”

“Say more. More.”

As our compliments continued, the veteran singer finally smiled coyly.

As we left his waiting room, Ri Hyuk snickered.

“Teacher’s really easy to read.”

“.......”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”

Anyway, today’s closing ceremony lineup was dazzling.

Noh Jaehyun, a legendary national singer.

Gyeon Seonghwa, the trot queen.

Cha Woohyun, called Korea’s best vocalist.

Looking at the lineup that represented the beginning and end of Korean pop music, we stood tall together.

“Wow.”

TNT and Daylight members muttered,

“Noh Jaehyun, Gyeon Seonghwa, Cha Woohyun... and Daylight.”

“And TNT and NewBlack....”

“Feels like we suddenly dropped a level.”

Because those veterans had held the national title for so long, even Daylight felt like rookies.

It wasn’t that we were weak.

Daylight’s Lian smiled.

“We just need to show it on stage. We gave our all in practice.”

“That’s right.”

“Honestly, we’ve done everything we could. It can’t get more perfect than this.”

That was when—

Through the Olympic Stadium TV broadcast, the veteran singers on rehearsal began singing one by one.

‘Huh?’

‘Teacher? How much did they prepare....’

‘What? Is the mic volume glitched?’

A chilling sense of crisis spread among the idol teams.

Lian and I, who had just said we’d done our best, locked eyes.

Nod.

I swallowed and spoke.

“Seniors. Should we practice a bit more?”

“Translation: At this rate, we’re screwed.”

Nod.

Everyone nodded and immediately ran toward an empty practice room.