Fun. For the ghost in the machine, this was fun. For Yoo-jin, it was the digital equivalent of pulling the pin on a grenade and praying it didn't blow up in his own hand.
He forwarded the entire 'Sol & Luna' concept document to Kang So-young. The core mythology, the sun and moon symbolism, the interconnected albums. He held nothing back. He was trusting his anarchist hacker ally to be the tip of his spear.
Seo-yeon, Hana, and Mina watched him, the air in the conference room thick with a strange, giddy tension. They had just committed to a path of open rebellion against the industry's most powerful player. There was no going back.
"What now?" Seo-yeon asked, her usual unflappable demeanor replaced by a nervous energy. "We just wait?"
"We don't wait," Yoo-jin said, his eyes fixed on his phone. "We prepare for the fallout. The moment this drops, Director Park is going to have a full-blown aneurysm. He'll see it as an unsanctioned leak that makes the company look amateurish."
He looked at Seo-yeon. "Your job is to handle him. You're his golden goose now. Convince him this 'leak' is a brilliant, unconventional marketing tactic that you orchestrated. A 'controlled burn' to generate organic hype."
Seo-yeon grinned, a predatory flash in her eyes. "Oh, I can do that. I'll make him think it was his idea all along."
"Hana, Mina," Yoo-jin continued, his tone hardening. "The two of you are going dark. No social media, no public appearances unless I approve them. From now on, you are myths. You are legends in the making. The less the public sees of the real you, the more they'll project onto the 'Sol & Luna' concept. You will exist only in the story we are creating."
It was a classic tactic. Create a vacuum, and let the fans' imaginations rush in to fill it.
His burner phone vibrated. A message from Ghost.
It's done. I didn't just leak it. I embedded it. Dropped the core file onto the top three idol fan forums, disguised as a compressed file of unreleased photos of Blue Canyon. When they unzip it, they'll find our story instead. The rumor will spread from the ground up. Untraceable.
Followed by a second message.
ETA to total market saturation: 24 hours. Enjoy the chaos.
Yoo-jin took a deep breath. The first shot had been fired.
The chaos didn't take 24 hours. It took three.
It started as a whisper. A single post on a popular forum. "GUYS, you won't BELIEVE what I just found in this photo archive..."
At first, people were skeptical. They called it fan fiction. But the document was too detailed, too professional. It didn't read like a fan's dream; it read like a leaked corporate strategy memo.
Then, the names 'Sol & Luna' started trending.
By lunchtime, it was an explosion. Every K-Pop news site, every YouTube reaction channel, every social media influencer was talking about the "Starforce Secret Project."
Yoo-jin watched it unfold from his office, a grim satisfaction settling over him. He had his 'soul-hearing' sense dialed down to a bare minimum, but he could still feel the shift in the digital world. It was a rising tide of pure, unadulterated hype.
The door to his office slammed open. Director Park stood there, his face a mottled shade of purple, a vein throbbing in his temple. He was waving his tablet, the screen showing a trending news article.
"Starforce's Secret Weapon? The 'Sol & Luna' Project Leak Has Fans in a Frenzy."
"HAN YOO-JIN!" he roared, spittle flying from his lips. "WHAT IS THIS? OUR INTERNAL STRATEGIES ARE ALL OVER THE INTERNET! IS THIS YOUR DOING? DID YOU LEAK THIS?"
Before Yoo-jin could even respond, Kim Seo-yeon swept into the room, a picture of calm, cheerful control.
"Director Park!" she said, her voice bright. "Isn't it amazing? The numbers are off the charts! We've had more organic media mentions in the last three hours than Blue Canyon had in the last three months."
Park stared at her, utterly bewildered. "Amazing? It's a disaster! We look like fools who can't control their own information!"
"No, no, no," Seo-yeon tutted, wagging a finger at him. "You're looking at it the old way. This isn't a leak. It's a 'narrative drop'. We're creating a legend. We're making the fans feel like they are discovering something special, something secret. It's exclusive. It's exciting."
She walked over to his tablet and swiped through the articles, her voice a hypnotic torrent of marketing buzzwords. "Look at the sentiment analysis. Overwhelmingly positive. They're calling it the most ambitious debut concept in a decade. We haven't even released a single photo, and we already have a potential fandom."
Director Park's fury was slowly being dismantled by Seo-yeon's relentless onslaught of corporate-speak and positive metrics. His greedy, opportunistic mind was beginning to see the dollar signs behind the chaos.
"So... you're saying you did this?" he asked, his voice now a confused grumble. "On purpose?"
"A great leader knows when to break the rules to create a new paradigm," Seo-yeon said, her smile dazzling. "I just knew you'd have the vision to support such a bold move, Director."
She had him. She was praising his vision for a decision he hadn't even known about an hour ago. He was being flattered into accepting a victory that wasn't his.
"Yes... well," Park sputtered, straightening his tie. "Of course. A bold move. Excellent work, Director Kim. Keep me apprised."
He turned and strode out of the office, his posture now one of a brilliant executive who had just overseen a marketing masterstroke.
The moment he was gone, Seo-yeon's bright smile vanished, replaced by a look of cynical exhaustion. She leaned against the doorframe.
"That man," she sighed, "has the strategic depth of a puddle." She looked at Yoo-jin, a new respect in her eyes. "Your plan worked. We're in control of the narrative. For now."
The 'for now' was the important part. The ball was now in Titan Entertainment's court. He knew Isabelle Moon would not take this lying down.
The reaction from Titan was faster and more insidious than he could have imagined.
They didn't release a statement. They didn't acknowledge the rumor at all. They did something much smarter. Much crueler.
Later that afternoon, the official Aurora social media accounts, which had been silent for weeks, suddenly came to life. They posted a single, candid photo.
It was a picture of Isabelle Moon and Lee Hana.
They were sitting together in what looked like a luxurious family living room, laughing over a cup of tea. They looked happy, relaxed. Like loving cousins.
The caption was simple and devastating. "Family time with my favorite cousin before our big comebacks! Can't wait to see you shine, Hana! Fighting! <3"
The internet exploded again.
It was a strategic masterstroke. In a single move, Isabelle had done three things. She had publicly confirmed their family connection, reframing her industry dominance as a family affair. She had positioned herself as a loving, supportive cousin, completely undercutting the 'rivalry' narrative.
And most devastatingly, she had publicly endorsed Hana.
She was playing the benevolent queen, giving her blessing to her "favorite cousin." It made Hana's defiant rebellion look like a child's tantrum. It suggested that Hana's success was not her own, but something granted by the grace of the true ruler.
Yoo-jin felt a chill run down his spine. This was a new level of psychological warfare. Isabelle wasn't just trying to beat them. She was trying to absorb them into her own story.
He immediately went to find Hana. He found her in the dance studio, staring at her phone, her knuckles white. The photo was on her screen.
"I should have known," Hana whispered, her voice trembling with a rage so cold it was almost silent. "This is what she does. She doesn't crush you. She suffocates you with her kindness. She makes you part of her perfect, happy story until you don't even remember who you are anymore."
She looked up at him, her eyes burning with a desperate, trapped fire.
[Name: Lee Hana]
[Status Effect: Suppressed (Aura of the Oracle)]
[Her fighting spirit is being eroded by a targeted emotional attack.]
Isabelle wasn't just attacking their marketing plan. She was attacking her cousin's very soul.
"Don't let her get to you," Yoo-jin said, his voice low.
"Don't let her?" Hana laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "She's been getting to me my entire life. You don't understand. You can't fight someone who refuses to see you as an enemy. How do you declare war on someone who just smiles and wishes you well?"
She was right. It was a checkmate. A public show of aggression from their side now would look petty and ungrateful.
Yoo-jin's mind was racing, cycling through simulations, searching for a counter-move. But every path led to a dead end. Isabelle had framed the narrative perfectly.
His burner phone vibrated. Ghost again.
Damn. The Oracle is good. She's not playing chess anymore. She's playing Go. Surrounding you, limiting your moves until you have no territory left.
Followed by another message.
There's only one way to counter an attack like that. You can't move against her. So you have to make her move against you.
You need to find her weakness. And I think I just found it.