The coffee tasted expensive.
It wasn't the instant mix Han Yoo-jin used to chug in the basement studio. It was a single-origin pour-over, served in a bone china cup by a secretary he didn't remember hiring.
He sat behind the massive mahogany desk in the CEO's office. The view from the top of the Starforce Tower (formerly Titan) was dizzying.
Below him, Gangnam crawled like a circuit board.
"This desk is too big," Yoo-jin muttered. "I feel like a Bond villain."
"You are a villain to half the industry," Director Park said, walking in without knocking. He looked different too. His cheap suits were gone, replaced by Italian silk. He looked ten years younger.
"The invoice for the remodeling just cleared," Park said, dropping a tablet on the desk. "We burned three billion won on the new recording studios. But the acoustic isolation is S-tier."
"Good," Yoo-jin said. "What about the boycott?"
Park's smile vanished. He sat down, looking serious.
"It's official. The Association of Music Agencies held a meeting this morning. Dragon Ent, Starlight, and KM Music. They all agreed to block Starforce artists from their joint year-end concerts."
Yoo-jin swiveled his chair.
The "Big 3" agencies were scared. Starforce had devoured Titan in a single week. They were terrified they were next.
"They're trying to quarantine us," Park explained. "They think if they cut off our domestic networking, we'll starve."
Yoo-jin looked at the System interface hovering over Park's head.
[Current Status: Starforce Entertainment]
[Market Share: 18% (Rising)]
[Threat Level to Competitors: Extreme]
"Let them boycott," Yoo-jin said calmly. "The domestic market is a pond. We're heading for the ocean."
"The ocean?"
Yoo-jin stood up and walked to the wall-sized smart screen. He tapped the map. It zoomed out from Seoul, crossing the Pacific, landing on Los Angeles.
"The System unlocked a new map," Yoo-jin said, half to himself. "We need a Billboard Hot 100 entry. Not a K-Pop chart entry. The main chart."
Park choked on his coffee. "Billboard? Yoo-jin, Sol & Luna are huge here, but in America? They don't speak English. They don't have a distributor."
"We don't need a distributor if we create the demand first," Yoo-jin said. "I'm going to the US."
"When?"
"Next week," Yoo-jin said. "But first, I need to fix a broken toy."
Studio B was the "Rehab Room."
It was where Yoo-jin sent the ex-Titan trainees to deprogram them.
Kim Min-ji, the former center of Aurora, stood in the booth. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, stripped of her glamour. She looked miserable.
"Again," Yoo-jin's voice cut through the talkback mic.
Min-ji flinched. She started the verse again. It was a soulful R&B track, completely different from the bubblegum pop she was famous for.
Her pitch was perfect. Her rhythm was machine-like.
"Cut," Yoo-jin sighed.
He walked into the live room. Min-ji stepped back, her eyes wide with that ingrained Titan fear. She expected to be yelled at. She expected to be weighed.
"You're boring," Yoo-jin said flatly.
Min-ji blinked. "I... I hit the notes, PD-nim. I practiced all night."
"I know you hit the notes. You're a human synthesizer," Yoo-jin said. He walked around her. "Titan trained you to be perfect. They trained you to hide your flaws. But in R&B, the flaw is the point."
He tapped his chest.
"You lost your career. Your company collapsed. You were humiliated on live TV by a rookie group. Where is that feeling?"
"I'm trying to forget it," Min-ji whispered.
"Don't," Yoo-jin ordered. "Weaponize it."
He grabbed the lyric sheet and ripped it in half.
"Forget the lyrics. I want you to scream."
"What?"
"Scream," Yoo-jin said calmly. "Scream at me. Scream at Yoon Tae-min. Scream at the unfairness of it all. Just make a noise that isn't pretty."
Min-ji hesitated. She looked at the glass, seeing her reflection. The fallen queen.
She opened her mouth. A small, pathetic sound came out.
"Louder," Yoo-jin pressed. "They threw you away, Min-ji. Scream!"
She squeezed her eyes shut. Her fists clenched.
AAAAAHHHHHH!
It started as a whine and tore into a guttural shriek. It broke. It was ugly. It was real.
[System Notification]
[Target: Kim Min-ji]
[Shell Cracked.]
[Potential Unlocked: 'Vocal Color - The Wounded Queen'.]
Yoo-jin smiled. "There she is."
He picked up the torn lyrics.
"Now sing the verse again. And keep that ugly feeling in your throat."
Min-ji took a shaking breath. She looked at Yoo-jin. For the first time, there was no fear in her eyes. Only focus.
She sang. The voice was raspy, hurt, and magnetic.
"Good," Yoo-jin said. "Now we have a solo artist."
Later that afternoon, the Starforce lobby was buzzing.
A delivery of flowers had arrived. A massive wreath, standing seven feet tall. The ribbon read: Congratulations on your new home. Let's have dinner.
It was signed by Chairman Lee of Dragon Entertainment. The biggest predator in the industry.
"It's a summons," Director Park said, looking at the wreath nervously. "The Cartel wants to size you up. If you don't go, they'll take it as an insult."
"If I go, they'll try to haze me," Yoo-jin said.
He checked his schedule. He was supposed to review the budget for the US expansion.
"Fine," Yoo-jin straightened his jacket. "I'm hungry anyway."
The restaurant was a private room in Cheongdam-dong. It was the kind of place where a single sushi roll cost more than a trainee's monthly allowance.
Three men sat around a low table.
Chairman Lee (Dragon Ent).
CEO Choi (Starlight).
Director Kang (KM Music).
They controlled 70% of the K-Pop market.
When Yoo-jin entered, they didn't stand up. They just stared.
"So this is the wizard," Chairman Lee said. He was a heavy man with eyes like a shark. "Sit down, Mr. Han. You look younger than your reputation."
Yoo-jin sat. He didn't bow.
"The sushi looks fresh," Yoo-jin observed.
"We were discussing your 'Reboot' concert," CEO Choi said, swirling his sake. "It's a bold move to hold it on the same weekend as the Dragon Family Concert. You might find the ticket sales... disappointing."
"We sold out in three minutes," Yoo-jin lied. It was actually four minutes.
The men exchanged glances.
"You're riding a wave of viral luck," Director Kang sneered. "But luck runs out. You have no distribution network in Japan. You have no contacts in China. If we make one phone call, your physical albums stop moving across borders."
It was a threat. Join the Cartel and pay the tribute, or get blockaded globally.
Yoo-jin took a sip of tea.
"You think I'm trying to sell albums in Tokyo?" Yoo-jin asked.
He pulled out his phone. He placed it on the table.
"I'm sending Sol & Luna to Los Angeles next week."
Chairman Lee laughed. It was a wet, condescending sound. "America? Every Korean agency tries America. They all come back broke. You think two girls with one hit song can crack the Billboard?"
"I don't think," Yoo-jin said. "I calculate."
He looked at Chairman Lee.
"You spent five million dollars last year trying to break your boy group 'Thunder' into the US market. You hired American producers. You did an English remix. It peaked at #190 and dropped off the next day."
Lee's smile vanished. "How do you know that number?"
"Because you did it wrong," Yoo-jin said. "You tried to buy your way in. American audiences hate that. They want authenticity."
He stood up.
"I'm not joining your alliance. I'm building a bridge over your heads. When I open the door to the US market, I might let you walk through it. For a fee."
The silence in the room was absolute. He had just insulted the three kings to their faces.
"You are arrogant," Lee whispered, his face turning red. "We will bury you."
"You already tried with Titan," Yoo-jin said. "And I bought their building."
He bowed slightly—a mocking gesture.
"Enjoy the sushi. I hear the uni is excellent."
Yoo-jin walked out of the restaurant. His heart was pounding.
He had just declared war on the entire domestic industry. Again.
"I need a win," Yoo-jin muttered, loosening his tie. "I need a massive, undeniable win in America. Or Starforce is going to be crushed by these dinosaurs."
He got into his car.
"System," he thought. "Show me the path to Billboard."
A window flickered open.
[Objective: Billboard Hot 100 #1]
[Required: A Viral Catalyst.]
[Suggestion: Collaboration with US Artist.]
The map zoomed into Los Angeles. A red marker pulsed over a specific location. A recording studio in Burbank.
[Target: Olivia Ray]
[Status: Fallen Star]
[Potential: SSS (Dormant)]
Yoo-jin frowned. He knew the name. Olivia Ray was a global pop sensation three years ago. A vocal powerhouse. But she had a mental breakdown on stage and vanished. The media called her "crazy." The industry blacklisted her.
She was the American version of Min-ji. Broken. Discarded.
And exactly the kind of project Yoo-jin loved.
"Driver," Yoo-jin said. "Go to the airport."
"Sir? You don't have a flight."
"Book one on the way," Yoo-jin said. "I'm going to LA tonight."
He texted Hana and Mina.
Pack your bags. We're going on a field trip.
14 Hours Later. Los Angeles.
The sun was brighter here. It felt harsh.
Yoo-jin stood outside a run-down recording studio in Burbank. It was a far cry from the gleaming towers of Gangnam.
He adjusted his sunglasses. He had tracked Olivia Ray here using Ghost's intel. Apparently, she was recording demos for $50 a pop just to pay rent.
He opened the door.
The studio manager, a guy with tattoos on his face, looked up. "We're booked, man. Get out."
"I'm looking for Olivia," Yoo-jin said in perfect English (courtesy of a B-Rank 'Language Patch' skill he bought on the plane).
"She's busy," the manager grunted.
From the back room, a voice drifted out.
It was singing. A simple acoustic cover. But the voice...
It was like gravity. It pulled you in and crushed you. It was SSS-Rank raw talent, rusted over by trauma.
Yoo-jin walked past the manager.
"Hey!"
Yoo-jin kicked the door to the live room open.
Olivia Ray was sitting on a stool with a guitar. She looked tired. Her hair was messy, her clothes thrifted. She stopped playing, looking up with defensive eyes.
"Who are you?" she snapped. "Another paparazzi?"
Yoo-jin looked at her.
[Target: Olivia Ray]
[Desire: Redemption]
[Fear: Silence]
"I'm not paparazzi," Yoo-jin said.
He walked over and placed a Starforce business card on her music stand.
"I'm the guy who is going to put you back on top of the world. And in exchange, you're going to help me conquer it."
Olivia looked at the card. Then at him. She laughed, a dry, cynical sound.
"Starforce? Never heard of it. I don't do K-Pop."
"I don't do K-Pop either," Yoo-jin smiled. "I do miracles."
He pointed to the guitar.
"Play that G-major chord again. Your fingering is lazy."
Olivia stared at him. The sheer audacity shocked her into silence.
"Who do you think you are?"
"Your new producer," Yoo-jin said. "Now play."
The Imperial Phase had begun.