Chapter 865: Answer (18)

After the laughter in the venue died down,

Wooju smiled and picked up the microphone.

"The judging got interrupted for a moment. Shall we continue?"

As he returned to his usual demeanor, the contestants swallowed nervously.

‘...He let it slide.’

If not for the audience, it felt like things could have exploded.

Even if it wasn’t directed at you, watching someone get scolded in person always made people uncomfortable.

The cold, frozen atmosphere made everyone hyper-aware.

So it seemed Wooju had stopped there out of consideration for the audience.

If not—

‘Yochan almost crossed the river today.’

Bang Yochan stood stiffly.

All the contestants thought the same thing.

‘He got scared.’

He was pretending to be fine, but anyone could see he was rigid.

The hand holding the mic trembled slightly.

He bit his lip, clearly frustrated—like he might burst into tears if someone nudged him.

The contestants smiled to themselves.

‘Still hasn’t learned his lesson.’

He looked like an elementary school kid glaring at a teacher after being scolded.

As the audience whispered, “What’s with him?”, Wooju let out a small sigh.

"Yochan."

He spoke gently.

"You probably have your own reasons. Maybe you were disappointed in your performance, or maybe you feel the judges’ comments don’t make sense to you."

After a brief pause, he continued.

"But your mood shouldn’t become your attitude. If you plan to debut as a professional, I hope you remember that."

"......."

"I might be going on too long... but your stage was good. If the audience ends up with a negative impression because of your attitude, that would be a real shame, wouldn’t it?"

As the audience admired his character—

The contestants licked their dry lips.

‘That’s even scarier....’

‘Wow. He’s turning him into someone untouchable.’

‘Why is Yochan relaxing after hearing that? He’s more screwed now....’

In a situation like before, any judge would’ve lashed out.

Instead, Wooju gave sincere advice.

If he had gotten angry and scolded harshly, Yochan might’ve gained some sympathy.

But by staying gentle, Wooju framed himself as magnanimous—and Yochan as someone unworthy of respect.

And his usual image amplified that effect.

"Getting scolded by someone like Wooju? How trash do you have to be?"

Whether intentional or not—

Bang Yochan had completely lost the game.

Among the contestants who had already disliked his behavior, many smiled in satisfaction.

‘...What a shame. If this aired, he’d be finished.’

Kim Jihyeok, considered the program’s ace and Yochan’s rival, looked regretful.

If this aired, it would be over for him.

But with CP backing, that scene probably wouldn’t make it to broadcast.

‘And I have to keep seeing his face....’

Yochan had a strong inferiority complex toward people who were younger or better-looking than him.

Which made Kim Jihyeok, a handsome high schooler, a frequent target of his petty provocations.

Still—

‘I just need to handle it smartly. Like Wooju sunbae.’

With that thought, Jihyeok looked at Wooju with shining eyes.

He had always respected him, but even more so now.

‘Today, I’ll prove myself and get noticed.’

As he reinforced his determination—

The contestants exchanged clear signals while watching Bang Yochan respond stiffly.

‘Let’s not act tough just because it’s hip hop.’

Until now, they had feared NewBlack’s fandom and public backlash more than the group itself.

But now that had changed.

What they felt now was fear toward the person himself.

Someone who didn’t become number one in the idol world by accident.

"...That’s all for my evaluation of Yochan. You did well."

After clearly separating praise and critique,

The mic passed to Cold Brown.

"Cold, what did you think of Team Cash Cow?"

"Overall, it was excellent."

Looking through his detailed notes, he called each contestant by name.

"Idam!"

"Y-Yes!"

He began giving feedback.

Everyone looked deeply moved.

When he mentioned he had even read translated lyrics, some nearly teared up.

"And Yochan?"

His gaze shifted.

Yochan swallowed.

"Yes."

"Your rap was good. I see potential."

Relief spread across his face.

Cold Brown lifted his paper.

"I have a lot of notes about you. A lot of advice too."

"...!"

"But I won’t share it. It’s not the priority."

His voice turned firm.

"Before rapping, learn how to respect others."

Get some manners, kid.

He turned off the mic and set it down.

That was it.

Silence.

The contestants exchanged glances.

‘This....’

It wasn’t just feedback.

It was a signal.

From the highest authority in hip hop.

—Don’t mess with my people.

The judges sat respectfully, as if receiving an imperial decree.

Cold Brown clicked his tongue.

‘That brat dares....’

He glanced at Wooju, who was still smiling brightly.

‘Messing with my Grammy treasure...!’

For him, the Grammys were serious business.

Thud. Thud.

As Bang Yochan walked off heavily, I let out a small laugh.

"So that’s what he’s usually like."

Cash Cow spoke awkwardly.

"Yeah... he’s kind of...."

Work is work, life is life.

I had given sincere advice, but seeing him glare back in resentment only made me laugh.

Guess advice doesn’t work on everyone.

The MC Rito joked,

"Wow, Wooju, you’ve really experienced something today. Hard to meet someone like that these days, right?"

"Haha."

I laughed in agreement.

Since gaining recognition in the U.S., people in the industry rarely messed with me.

So encountering a character like that after a long time—

Was interesting.

Not angering, but curious.

‘What kind of person is he?’

Then a different thought popped into my head.

"That rude kid... changed after meeting NewBlack!"

"Bring him to the truth room."

"Yes!"

As I chuckled to myself imagining variety show scenarios—

I saw Bang Yochan in the distance, biting his lip, trembling.

Our eyes met briefly.

It felt like he was thinking, I’ll get revenge.

It reminded me of trainees who used to talk back to trainers.

Then again, if he were the type to change after being scolded, he would’ve changed already.

"Now, we’ll begin the second cypher stage."

At Rito’s cue, I turned.

Just like before—

"Drop the beat!"

The atmosphere heated up.

Team 2 and Team 3 performed.

I added comments here and there, securing airtime, while Cold Brown took the lead as judge.

"Hey, friend."

He called out a contestant.

"Irae, right?"

"Yes."

"There are key elements in hip hop—setup, metaphor, punchline. Your rap had all of them."

Then—

"But your lyrics didn’t hit me."

"...In what way?"

"For example, that line about waving money in a spacious Bugatti."

The contestant nodded.

"Have you ever waved money like that?"

"...No."

"Ever driven a Bugatti?"

"...No."

"Then why write that?"

"...As a metaphor..."

Cold Brown waved it off.

"You copied it because it sounded cool."

"...Yes."

"As a Bugatti owner—it's not that spacious. Comfortable, but narrow."

He continued.

"I prefer BMW SUVs. Bugatti is expensive and beautiful, but I like space."

Then—

"Do you get the point? It’s not about the car. Firefighters are cool—but not because fire trucks are cool."

Silence.

"I’m not just saying this to him. I’m saying it to all of you."

His voice grew serious.

"The real appeal of hip hop is telling your own story directly. No other genre does that like we do."

"Find your story. Tell it honestly. If there are a hundred people, there are a hundred kinds of cool."

The room fell silent.

Then he smiled.

"Understanding this won’t make you the best."

"But it will let you make a living."

I clapped and signaled—

‘Applause.’

The contestants erupted.

"...What did he say?"

"I don’t know English."

"Something about cars?"

After the interpreter finished—

The cheers grew even louder.

Watching them, Cold Brown sighed softly.

"How many of them will truly understand..."

All of us judges smiled knowingly.

We all felt the same.

They weren’t professionals yet.

We gave advice hoping they’d grow—

Even knowing they wouldn’t fully understand yet.

"Even if you tell them not to go down that road, they’ll go anyway," said Machine Gun.

"They’ll come back later saying ‘You were right,’ then tell their juniors not to go... and the cycle repeats."

"Some things you have to experience to understand."

"Exactly."

Silri stretched.

"We were the same. Ignored everything we were told."

"True."

As the judges laughed awkwardly—

Haitian stepped back as his team came up.

"Our Jihyeok is good. Takes feedback immediately."

"Oh?"

"I’m taking him to my label after this."

"Oh?"

"You’ll see."

Then—

Team 4 appeared.

"Let’s hear your determination."

"No need. We’ll prove it on stage."

The judges laughed.

"Confident, huh?"

"That’s bold."

"Please go easy on scoring—"

The team waved their hands.

Kim Jihyeok sent a heart gesture.

Then—

"Try appealing to the special judges."

He hesitated.

Then looked at me.

"Wooju sunbae."

"Yes?"

"My grandmother... her name is Song Deoksun."

"...!"

My hand shot up toward the scoring board—

But Cold Brown grabbed it.

The entire venue burst into laughter.