Chapter 29

Chapter 29. Two Considerate Men 

“What an incredible coincidence.” 

For my immediate purposes, I decided to pretend I didn't notice anything. 

I told Im Sori that Nam Won-su had recently been arrested because of an unsavory incident. 

There were also signs that he'd habitually assaulted trainees, so the police were investigating him thoroughly. 

During that investigation, his relationship with TakeF's Sayaka would probably be revealed as well. 

“That's impossible! That goblin-looking bas... No. That person dated Sayaka?” 

“It will probably become public soon.” 

The police themselves wouldn't reveal Sayaka's real name. 

After that, it would be up to online-news reporters. 

They would probably figure it out. 

And if they couldn't, Japanese journalists might receive the tip directly and scramble for whatever scraps they could get. 

Japanese reporters were skilled enough to photograph an affair taking place inside a nationally famous announcer's own home in high definition, weren't they? 

Im Sori frowned as if she had a headache. 

“It's shocking, but I can't say that's particularly reliable information. I'm not saying I don't trust you, Do Jun-hyeok. I'm saying there's no evidence.” 

She was right. 

I hadn't presented any evidence. 

All I'd done was combine several facts. 

Nam Won-su had definitely been arrested and was being investigated. 

I'd worked with him for eight years. 

Sayaka had trained in Korea. 

With those things combined, nobody could prove I hadn't simply spun a clever lie. 

There was no guarantee Japanese reporters would uncover Sayaka's rumors either. 

For all I knew, another member of TakeF might get caught doing drugs like Won-woo. 

“You're right. But even if this incident doesn't become public, TakeF still isn't a particularly attractive client.” 

“Why?” 

I showed her the Excel sheet containing the suspicious voting pattern I'd organized overnight. 

I hadn't proven every single competition round yet. 

But if I divided each round's total number of voters by 2,000, the same pattern would be easy to identify. 

“This... is evidence of manipulation? The second round, third round, even the final are all like this?” 

“Yes. Shall we calculate one together?” 

Using the same formula I'd discovered during the night, I demonstrated the existence of the minimum vote gap in real time. 

Could such complicated voting totals really share a common divisor exceeding four digits? 

The chances of being struck by lightning at the equator were probably higher. 

“This can't be... Jackpot; Japan was manipulated? I put so much thought into every score I gave them.” 

A quiet fire appeared in Im Sori's eyes. 

She felt insulted. 

She'd spent more than two months repeatedly traveling between Korea and Japan. 

And she'd probably stayed awake through several nights working on N.Dolphin until recently. 

Yet all of that had merely been background decoration on the road toward predetermined rankings. 

I'd be furious too. 

“So, Team Leader Do Jun-hyeok, you want this song.” 

Im Sori spoke through clenched anger. 

Her bangs briefly lifted from the force of her breath before settling again. 

“Honestly? Yes. I really like it.” 

“I can give it to you. I don't even have to wait until I hold the Jackpot production staff responsible using the manipulation evidence. I can simply give them any failed song instead. But...” 

My emotions surged when she said she could hand it over immediately. 

Then came the condition. 

“I can give it to Blue Moon. But there's no particular reason I have to give it to Blue Moon.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Even if I don't give it to TakeF, I could give it to another, more famous group instead of Blue Moon.” 

Apparently, the Jackpot manipulation had made her seriously angry. 

Her voice was cold. 

“That's something we'll need to negotiate from here. We'll have to see whether our conditions match.” 

“Should we start with the price?” 

I shook my head. 

Money wasn't where we could make ourselves attractive. 

If this song went to auction, N.Dolphin would immediately end up in the same situation as Silky Red's debut track. 

“You want to discuss the musical side first?” 

“Yes. Have you ever watched our members on YouTube or anywhere similar?” 

Im Sori said she'd seen clips from Live Singing Contest. 

The song had been terrible. 

But their live singing, talent, and looks were all excellent. 

“Still, plenty of idols are as skilled as your girls. The important thing is whether the concept fits. Blue Moon is a cyberpunk group, isn't it? You should preserve as much of that concept as possible while developing it into something more accessible...” 

I told her that for this comeback, we intended to boldly abandon cyberpunk and try something new. 

“What kind of concept are you thinking about?” 

“This time...” 

I was about to answer when Im Sori hurriedly canceled her own question. 

“No, sorry. You've already heard the song. I'll ask something else. I heard you're putting a lot of effort into this comeback. How much are you actually investing?” 

Im Sori had already been betrayed by TakeF once. 

Even if she gave us a wonderful song, if we butchered it as badly as Blue Moon's previous songs, it might not reach 101st on the music chart. 

It might not even reach 1,001st. 

That would be another form of betrayal. 

Then I remembered the office calendar and the stack of pamphlets I'd seen earlier. 

The photographs of the male contemporary dancer. 

He looked like someone who performed at places like the Sejong Center for the Performing Arts. 

The boss of this place definitely had some interest in him. 

“Do you know Principal Dancer Yang Seung-tae of the National Dance Company? He attended the British Queen's birthday celebration the year before last. He's extremely famous.” 

“Gasp! Yang Seung-tae?” 

At the mention of his name, Im Sori's face immediately brightened. 

As expected. 

She was a fan. 

Yang Seung-tae was the most famous dancer I personally knew. 

He'd briefly worked with Pantheon. 

But he'd become disgusted by the entertainment industry's pointless power trips and left. 

His time in the industry had been short, but he'd created several hit choreographies. 

His talent as a choreographer was undeniable. 

Since I'd happened to meet a fan, I might as well make use of Yang Seung-tae's name. 

“Yang Seung-tae will be handling the choreography for this comeback.” 

“Really? Are you really getting choreography from him? He doesn't work on pop-music choreography anymore!” 

I'd drunk alone with Yang Seung-tae several times. 

I told her what had happened between us. 

Back then, I had been Team Leader 1 at Pantheon. 

Yang Seung-tae had joined a rookie project under Team 3. 

At most, we'd been the kind of acquaintances who occasionally spoke when passing each other. 

Then one day, Yang Seung-tae threw his phone across Team 3's office and stormed out of Pantheon's building. 

The Team 3 leader had panicked. 

So I'd stepped in. 

I bought the next model of Yang Seung-tae's phone, transferred his data, then went to the pojangmacha where he was drinking alone. 

My goal had been to calm him down and persuade him to finish Team 3's work. 

“After talking to him, I realized what he wanted wasn't simply to work as a choreographer. He wanted to direct the entire performance. He wanted control over the choreography, fashion, lighting, everything. That's how he creates a complete work of art.” 

“Exactly. That's art!” 

The moment the word art appeared, Im Sori became excited and agreed passionately. 

“But as you know, Composer Im Sori, entertainment agencies don't like putting everything in the hands of one person. The company only wanted Choreographer Yang Seung-tae to create the key dance moves. Meanwhile, he was furious because the planning director kept altering his choreography and forcing strange stage concepts onto it.” 

Eventually, Yang Seung-tae's choreography was rejected. 

Admittedly, part of the reason was that the dance looked completely different from standard idol choreography. 

But if the company wanted the same old thing, why had they hired someone who had never worked in the idol world in the first place? 

I framed it as an ordinary creative disagreement while explaining it to Im Sori. 

In reality, it had been worse. 

Pantheon's Team 1 had wanted Yang Seung-tae's name and nothing else. 

They only wanted the marketing line: 

Choreography created by genius choreographer Yang Seung-tae. 

Beyond that, they'd wanted him to quietly sit there and make everything look legitimate. 

After the collaboration was canceled, Yang Seung-tae and I complained about Nam Won-su together. 

He vented about how rigid the entertainment industry was. 

I occasionally agreed. 

That was how we'd grown somewhat close. 

Yang Seung-tae had genuinely wanted to work in idol choreography, so he'd been deeply disappointed. 

I personally found his choreography extremely appealing. 

So I'd later commissioned him separately for Victory and brought him onto a solo track. 

It performed reasonably well. 

But after seeing more of the entertainment industry's ugly side, Yang Seung-tae eventually left again. 

“Wow... That's amazing. You actually built that kind of relationship with Choreographer Yang Seung-tae. I'm just an ordinary fan!” 

“Really?” 

Im Sori smiled like a child. 

“Then will you give the song to us instead?” 

“Ah...” 

Her bright smile disappeared. 

She began worrying again. 

“Are you certain about this song? It has to be this one?” 

“Yes. At least right now.” 

Rising girl group Blue Moon collaborating with Yang Seung-tae. 

It would be difficult to reject such an opportunity. 

Blue Moon couldn't guarantee commercial success yet. 

But their current public attention was undeniable. 

“It's not that I don't trust you, Manager... but I want to confirm that Yang Seung-tae is really participating.” 

“Ah. You'd like that?” 

At this point, it was practically an acceptance. 

I told her I'd call again and left Soul Studio. 

Of course, Yang Seung-tae had never agreed to participate in our comeback. 

There hadn't even been a discussion. 

I'd simply seen photographs of contemporary dance in the office and thrown his name out there. 

Now I'd have to start working on that little detail. 

His choreography had looked incredible back at Pantheon. 

Let's get some for ourselves too. 

[Teacher Yang, have you been well?] 

I sent him an extremely polite message after a long time. 

There. 

Done. 

The actual contents aside, I'd sent him a message. 

He'd probably reply. 

Surely our old friendship meant he wouldn't ignore me simply because it was bothersome. 

He absolutely had to come. 

Im Sori had already been slapped across the back of the head by TakeF. 

I couldn't slap her again. 

I returned to the office and kept staring at my phone. 

If I could secure Yang Seung-tae as choreographer, combine that with Im Sori's song, and somehow obtain a magnificent album jacket, we'd practically have the perfect package. 

About ten minutes passed. 

Then, almost unbelievably, my phone rang. 

It was Yang Seung-tae. 

“Yes, Teacher Yang. This is Do Jun-hyeok.” 

“Wow, Jun-hyeok hyung. I've called you dozens of times recently. I thought you'd died, considering how completely you ignored me.” 

By “recently,” he meant when I'd been under investigation because of Won-woo. 

I knew he'd called several times. 

I simply hadn't been able to answer. 

Between police calls and phone terrorism from angry fans, answering ordinary calls hadn't been an option. 

And because I needed to continue receiving calls from investigators, I couldn't even change my number. 

I'd once heard Buddhism described as having eight great hells. 

If there was a hell where you were forced to receive phone calls forever, I'd gotten a taste of it. 

“Life got busy. I didn't have time to contact anyone.” 

“Stop it. You're speaking formally just so you can start teasing me about having an 'artist disease' again.” 

Our friendship hadn't lasted long, and we hadn't spoken in ages. 

I'd overdone the politeness slightly. 

“I didn't call because I needed anything. I just wondered how you've been.” 

“I've been fine.” 

Rather than telling me how he'd been doing, Seung-tae immediately started defending himself against accusations nobody had made. 

“What about you, hyung? I saw you endlessly on the nine o'clock news before. Did you know every article's comment section was going crazy? 'Kill Do Jun-hyeok.' 'Rip out Do Jun-hyeok's eyeballs, boil them properly, and send them to the International Table Tennis Federation.' 'Skin him completely and hang his head in Gwanghwamun Square...'” 

“Stop.” 

“That's why I went around replying under every comment that our Jun-hyeok hyung would never do something like that. I told everyone the Do Jun-hyeok I know isn't that kind of person. But they kept posting hate comments, so I reported all of them.” 

He probably meant reporting their accounts through the website, not filing police reports. 

If we continued chatting like this, I'd never get to the real reason for the call. 

So I briefly summarized my situation. 

Just as Teacher Yang had said, Do Jun-hyeok hadn't been that kind of person. 

The investigation had legally cleared me. 

The fans, however, were still angry. 

So I'd moved to a small agency and was preparing for a fresh start. 

“Whew... Exactly. I vaguely heard you're working with some girl group. I saw a newspaper article too. Apparently one of the idols is incredibly smart.” 

He was probably talking about Anna. 

Of course, that didn't mean the other members were stupid. 

“Yeah. They're all geniuses. Anyway, you're right. I'm managing a girl group, and we're currently recruiting a choreographer for a new song.” 

“...What? So you did call because you needed something.” 

“No. You aren't interested in idol work anymore anyway, are you?” 

I smoothly dodged his sharp observation. 

He was sensitive and easily sulked. 

I needed to coax him as much as possible. 

Fortunately, he was easy to manipulate with words. 

“Do you know how much money is in that business? People don't avoid it because they're uninterested. They avoid it because they can't do it. Turn on the television, and there's always some idol dancing. I even saw an idol dancing on a current-affairs program the other day.” 

An idol dancing on a current-affairs program? 

Ridiculous. 

Still, not impossible. 

Give idols a little space in any program, and someone would probably make them dance. 

Anyway, the important part was clear. 

Yang Seung-tae still had lingering interest in idol choreography. 

That was an extremely positive sign. 

“Anyway, that's how I've been. Forget me. Are you still at the National Theater?” 

“Huh? No, I left. I want to do something really mainstream now. There were five reporters when I left the company. Did you seriously not hear about it?” 

Were five reporters supposed to be a lot? 

“They must've all been magazine reporters. This is exactly why I want to do something else. Anyway, is there anything I can help you with?” 

“Why? You want to do idol choreography again?” 

“No. Not really. I just thought you might need my help. And I think working with you would suit me. Didn't I once promise I'd help you if you ever needed it?” 

On the day Yang Seung-tae finished the full choreography for a single and released it while working under a Pantheon team, we'd gone drinking. 

At the time, he'd begged me to remember his promise. 

Because I'd helped him accomplish one of his wishes, he said he'd help me once in the future. 

I intended to collect that favor now. 

“Come to think of it, you did say that. Then want to do it this time?” 

“Should I? I made a promise, so I suppose I should help.” 

“Well, you said you wanted to try something mainstream.” 

I needed to let him take as much credit as possible. 

That way I could squeeze the maximum amount of work from him later. 

“Ha! Seriously? I'm the one helping you.” 

“Fine. Let's say that's what it is.” 

“It's not 'let's say'...” 

After going back and forth several more times, we finally organized the schedule. 

Yang Seung-tae would come to the Universe office tomorrow. 

“Have you secured everything except choreography? Who's the composer?” 

“Most things are arranged. The composer is someone named Im Sori.” 

Yang Seung-tae repeated Im Sori's name, then drew in a strange breath.