"He calls it 'The Purification'."
Jung Sae-ri swiped her phone screen, projecting a profile onto the wall of Yoo-jin's office.
[Name: Kim Myung-soo (Maestro Kim)]
[Role: Chief Conductor, Seoul Philharmonic]
[Status: Cultural Icon]
"He believes modern music is a disease," Sae-ri explained, pacing the room like a restless cat. "He thinks K-Pop, hip-hop, anything with a beat... it's all noise pollution. He wants to 'cleanse' the public's ears."
Yoo-jin studied the face on the screen. Maestro Kim looked like a statue carved from arrogance—silver hair, sharp suit, eyes that judged you through the pixels.
"So he's a snob," Yoo-jin said, spinning a pen. "The industry is full of them. Why is he dangerous?"
"Because he doesn't just conduct instruments," Sae-ri said. "He conducts people."
She tapped the screen again. A video played. It was footage of a recent classical concert. The audience sat in dead silence. No coughing, no shifting. They looked paralyzed.
"Look at their eyes," Sae-ri whispered.
Yoo-jin zoomed in. The audience members' pupils were dilated. Their faces were slack.
[System Scan: Active]
[Target: Audience Mass]
[Status: Hypnotized / Energy Drain in Progress]
[Source: The Baton]
Yoo-jin felt a chill. The Maestro was harvesting energy from thousands of people at once, using the rhythm of the orchestra to sync their heartbeats and siphon their vitality.
"He's a vampire," Yoo-jin realized. "Just like Director Yoon, but on a massive scale."
"Director Yoon was a glutton," Sae-ri corrected. "Maestro Kim is a gourmand. He wants high-quality souls. Artists. Muses."
She leaned over the desk.
"And he just invited Starforce to perform at the Grand Culture Gala next week."
The invitation sat on the meeting table like a bomb.
[The Ministry of Culture requests the presence of Starforce Entertainment.]
[Collaboration: Seoul Philharmonic Orchestra feat. K-Pop Artist.]
Director Park was practically vibrating with excitement.
"This is it, Yoo-jin! The Blue House will be there. The foreign diplomats! If we perform here, we aren't just idols anymore. We're national representatives."
"It's a trap," Yoo-jin said flatly.
"It's a gala!" Park argued. "The government is organizing it. You can't say no to the government."
Yoo-jin looked at the invitation. The Maestro had specifically requested a "vocalist with raw potential."
He wanted a new battery.
"We accept," Yoo-jin decided.
Park clapped his hands. "Excellent! I'll tell Sol & Luna to prepare."
"No," Yoo-jin said. "Sol & Luna are too polished. Their teamwork is their strength, but the Maestro breaks harmony. He'll tear them apart."
He looked at the corner of the room, where Kim Min-ji sat. The former center of Aurora was reading a lyric sheet, looking bored.
"We send Min-ji," Yoo-jin said.
Min-ji looked up, startled. "Me? You want me to sing opera?"
"I want you to sing the blues," Yoo-jin said. "Or whatever ugly, painful thing comes out of your throat."
He stood up.
"The Maestro wants perfection. We're going to give him a scar."
The Seoul Arts Center was a fortress of high culture. The walls were lined with velvet, the air smelled of old wood and silence.
Yoo-jin walked into the rehearsal hall. He wore a hoodie and jeans, looking deliberately out of place among the musicians in tuxedos.
On the podium, Maestro Kim stood with his back to the door. He was conducting a string section.
The music was exquisite. It was also terrifying.
[System Warning]
[Aura Detected: 'The Silencer' (SS-Rank)]
[Effect: Suppresses individual will. Enforces conformity.]
Yoo-jin felt a pressure in his skull. The music wanted him to sit down. It wanted him to be quiet. It wanted him to listen and obey.
Nope.
Yoo-jin activated his own skill.
[Skill: Producer's Authority (S)]
[Effect: Negates external influence within 5 meters.]
The pressure vanished.
"Maestro Kim," Yoo-jin called out, his voice cutting through the violins like a knife.
The music stopped. The musicians gasped. You didn't interrupt the Maestro.
Kim Myung-soo lowered his baton slowly. He turned around. His eyes were cold, lifeless voids.
"You must be the pop merchant," the Maestro said. His voice was smooth, melodic. "Mr. Han. You are late."
"I was listening," Yoo-jin lied. He walked up the aisle. "Your timing is perfect. But your violins are bored."
The concertmaster flushed red.
"Bored?" The Maestro raised an eyebrow. "They are disciplined. Something you wouldn't understand. Your industry runs on chaos and cheap dopamine."
"My industry runs on emotion," Yoo-jin countered, stepping onto the stage. "You treat these people like machines. Machines make perfect products, but they don't make art."
He stood toe-to-toe with the conductor.
[Proximity Alert: Energy Drain Attempted.]
[Result: Blocked.]
The Maestro's eyes narrowed. He realized Yoo-jin wasn't a normal human.
"I see," the Maestro whispered, a cruel smile touching his lips. "You are Awakened. A fellow conductor."
"I'm a producer," Yoo-jin corrected. "I don't control people. I amplify them."
"Semantics," the Maestro waved his hand. "You use the System to manipulate the masses. I use it to elevate them. This Gala... it will be a masterpiece. The 'Purification' of Seoul."
He looked past Yoo-jin.
"And where is my soloist? I requested the girls from the chart."
"They're busy conquering America," Yoo-jin said. "I brought someone better."
He signaled to the entrance.
Min-ji walked in. She wasn't wearing a dress. She wore a black leather jacket and combat boots. Her makeup was dark, smudged. She looked like a bruise in human form.
The Maestro sneered. "The failure from Titan? The broken doll?"
Min-ji flinched, but she didn't retreat. She remembered Yoo-jin's training. Weaponize the pain.
"She's not a doll," Yoo-jin said. "She's a grenade."
"We shall see," the Maestro said. "We rehearse the piece. Mozart's Requiem. The Lacrimosa."
"No," Yoo-jin said.
The Maestro paused. "Excuse me?"
"We aren't doing Mozart," Yoo-jin said. "We're doing an original."
He pulled a USB drive from his pocket and tossed it to the sound engineer.
"It's called Shatter. It's written in A-minor. But I warned the drummer to play off-beat."
"This is a classical gala!" the Maestro shouted, losing his composure. "You cannot bring a drum kit into my orchestra!"
"The contract says 'Collaboration'," Yoo-jin smiled. "It doesn't say 'Submission'. Unless you're afraid a K-Pop reject can out-sing your orchestra?"
The musicians whispered. The challenge was public.
The Maestro's grip on his baton tightened until his knuckles were white.
"Fine," he hissed. "Play your noise. Let us see if she can survive the current."
The rehearsal began.
The track Yoo-jin had produced was a monster. It started with a haunting cello line—something the Maestro could respect—but then a distorted synth bass kicked in, grinding against the strings.
Min-ji stepped to the mic.
The Maestro raised his baton. He didn't conduct the track. He conducted the air around Min-ji.
[System Alert]
[Target: Kim Min-ji]
[Status: Under Psychic Attack.]
[The Maestro is using 'The Silencer' to construct a mental cage.]
Min-ji opened her mouth to sing, but nothing came out. She choked. She grabbed her throat.
The orchestra swelled, drowning her out. The Maestro smiled. He was suffocating her with harmony.
"Sing!" Yoo-jin shouted from the mixing desk.
Min-ji's eyes rolled back. She was drowning in the perfection of the strings. It was so easy to just be quiet. To be a doll again.
Look pretty. Sing soft.
Then, a sound cut through her in-ear monitor.
It wasn't music. It was a voice.
"Scream."
It was a recording of Yoo-jin from their training session.
Min-ji's eyes snapped open.
She didn't try to sing the melody. She grabbed the microphone stand and slammed it against the floor.
BANG.
The noise echoed through the hall, shattering the Maestro's rhythm. The orchestra faltered.
Min-ji didn't wait. She screamed the first note. It was a guttural, R&B belt that tore through the classical texture like a jagged rock through a stained-glass window.
"I built a castle out of glass..."
"And watched you throw the stone..."
The Maestro tried to regain control. He waved his baton frantically, trying to suppress her volume.
But Min-ji was feeding off the conflict. Every time the orchestra got louder, she got louder. It wasn't a collaboration. It was a fistfight.
Yoo-jin watched the levels on the mixer. The red bars were peaking.
[Synchronization: 0%]
[Conflict Energy: SSS]
The Maestro's "Purification" field was crumbling. He couldn't drain energy from chaos. He needed order. And Min-ji was pure disorder.
The song ended with Min-ji panting into the mic, staring daggers at the conductor.
The orchestra musicians were sweating. They looked... awake. The hypnosis was broken.
"What was that?" the concertmaster whispered, looking at his violin like he'd never seen it before. "I felt... alive."
Maestro Kim stood frozen on the podium. His perfect hair was messed up. He looked at Min-ji with pure hatred.
"You ruined the tempo," he whispered.
"I fixed it," Min-ji said into the mic.
Yoo-jin walked onto the stage. He stood next to Min-ji.
"The Gala is in three days," Yoo-jin said to the Maestro. "We'll be ready. Try to keep up."
He guided Min-ji off the stage.
As they walked down the hallway, Min-ji's legs gave out. Yoo-jin caught her.
"I thought I was going to die," she gasped, trembling. "It felt like he was squeezing my heart."
"He was," Yoo-jin said, helping her stand. "But you broke his grip."
"Did I do good?"
"You were terrible," Yoo-jin smiled. "It was perfect."
Back at the office, Sae-ri was waiting.
"You poked the bear," she said, looking at the footage Yoo-jin had secretly recorded. "He's going to retaliate. At the Gala, he won't just try to silence her. He'll try to kill the performance. He'll use the 'Crescendo of Doom'."
"Let him try," Yoo-jin said.
He sat at his desk. He opened the System interface.
The map of Seoul showed the Arts Center glowing red.
[Quest: The Symphony of Destruction]
[Phase 1 Complete: The Disruption.]
[Phase 2: The Grand Stage.]
"I need reinforcements," Yoo-jin muttered.
He picked up his phone. He dialed a number.
"Is this the Universal Music Group Korea office?"
"Yes, speaking."
"This is Han Yoo-jin. I need to book a flight for Olivia Ray. Get her to Seoul by Friday."
Sae-ri raised an eyebrow. "You're bringing the American?"
"The Maestro hates noise," Yoo-jin said, his eyes gleaming. "I'm going to bring him the loudest voice on the planet."
He looked out the window at the city lights.
"He wants a Gala? I'm going to give him a Rock Festival."