The basement practice room of StarDust Entertainment was located three floors underground. It smelled of mildew, teenage sweat, and shattered dreams.
Seo-jun stood at the door, flanked by the trembling CEO Park.
"This is it," CEO Park muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "The... uh... current lineup for the survival show."
Seo-jun didn't step inside immediately. He adjusted the cuffs of his cheap tracksuit as if it were an Italian silk suit.
Location Value: Negative, he noted internally. Ventilation system is non-existent. If they faint from hypoxia, that's a medical liability lawsuit waiting to happen. I need to install an air purifier. I'll deduct the cost from their future earnings.
He pushed the door open.
The noise hit him first. Blasting from the speakers was a heavy trap beat, distorted by the cheap bass.
Inside, the assets were in their natural habitats.
In the center, a boy with bleached hair and a lip ring was krumping aggressively at the mirror. He looked like he was trying to punch his own reflection. (Kang Woo-jin)
In the corner, curled into a ball like a pill bug, was a skinny boy wearing a hoodie two sizes too big. He had his hands over his ears, shaking. (Lee Yul)
And on the only yoga mat in the room, a boy with perfect skin was wearing a luxury sleep mask, snoring softly, completely unbothered by the chaos. (Cha Eun-kyul)
Seo-jun's eyes narrowed. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. It wasn't a smile. It was the face of a sanitation worker looking at a particularly large pile of garbage.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Host Mentality Analyzed. Conclusion: The Host views humanity as tradable commodities. System Updating... [The Human Asset Management System] is now online.
Blue windows popped up over the boys' heads.
[Asset #1: Kang Woo-jin]
Class: Mad Dog.
Market Value: -$500 (Potential Assault Charges).
Defect: Anger Issues.
[Asset #2: Lee Yul]
Class: Damaged Goods.
Market Value: $0.
Defect: Severe Anxiety.
[Asset #3: Cha Eun-kyul]
Class: Hidden Gold Mine.
Market Value: High (Unrealized).
Defect: Extreme Sloth.
"Turn it off," Seo-jun said softly.
The music didn't stop. The thug, Woo-jin, was too busy fighting his invisible demons.
Seo-jun walked over to the sound system and yanked the power cord out of the wall. Silence slammed into the room.
Woo-jin stopped mid-spin. He turned around, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his sharp nose. His eyes were full of fire.
"Who the hell pulled the plug?" Woo-jin growled, stepping forward. He saw Seo-jun. "Oh. It's the Pretty Boy. Did you come down here to cry again?"
Behind him, the CEO flinched. "Y-Ya! Woo-jin! Watch your mouth!"
"Shut up, old man," Woo-jin spat. He walked up to Seo-jun, looming over him. Woo-jin was an inch taller, radiating violence. "Get lost, Seo-jun. Before I rearrange your pretty face."
Seo-jun didn't flinch. He didn't even blink. He just looked at Woo-jin's face and thought: Nose bridge is slightly crooked. Needs contouring makeup. Jawline is good. Eyes are rebellious—teenage girls love that bad boy trash. He's sellable.
"Kang Woo-jin," Seo-jun said, his voice calm.
"What?"
"If you hit me, that constitutes assault under Criminal Act Article 260."
Woo-jin scoffed. "So? You gonna call the cops? Go ahead, snitch."
"No," Seo-jun smiled. "I'm going to cite Clause 4, Section B of your trainee contract. 'Any damage caused to company property or personnel results in a penalty fee of 10 times the damage cost.'"
Seo-jun pointed to his own face.
"My face is the Visual Center of this group. My current valuation is approximately 5 Billion Won. If you bruise it, the depreciation value is roughly 50 Million Won."
Seo-jun took a step closer, invading the thug's personal space. His eyes gleamed with a cold, terrifying greed.
"Do you have 50 Million Won in your bank account, Woo-jin?"
"I... what?" Woo-jin stumbled back, confused by the sudden math.
"If you don't," Seo-jun whispered, "I will garnish your wages for the next twenty years. You will dance on stage until you are forty, and every single penny will go to me to pay for this bruise. Do you want to be my slave for two decades?"
Woo-jin turned pale. The violence drained out of him, replaced by the primal fear of debt. It was a language everyone understood.
"S-sit down...I will sit," Woo-jin stammered.
"Good choice," Seo-jun said, patting the thug's cheek lightly. "Sit."
Woo-jin sat.
Seo-jun stepped over the cowering form of Lee Yul in the corner—I'll deal with the crying one later, he thought—and walked straight to the sleeping boy on the yoga mat.
He looked down at Cha Eun-kyul. The boy was wearing a silk sleep mask that cost more than Seo-jun's entire outfit.
Seo-jun crouched down.
He looked at the sleep mask covering the boy's eyes. It was silk. Hand-stitched. Embroidered with a small crest that Seo-jun recognized from his past life.
The Cha Family Crest, Seo-jun noted. I remember cleaning up a scandal for his cousin last year. So the youngest grandson ran away to play idol? Cute.
He didn't shake the boy awake. He simply whispered into his ear.
"If you don't wake up in three seconds, I'm sending a photo of you sleeping on this dirty floor to the Royal Group Chatroom."
The reaction was instantaneous. Cha Eun-kyul gasped and bolted upright, ripping off his sleep mask. His eyes were wide with panic.
"How—how did you know?" Eun-kyul whispered, looking around frantically.
Seo-jun tapped the side of his own head. "I know everything about my assets. Now, line up."
Within thirty seconds, the three dysfunctional trainees were standing in a line. Woo-jin looked confused and scared. Yul was shaking like a leaf. Eun-kyul was wary.
Seo-jun stood before them, hands in his pockets.
"CEO Park," Seo-jun called out without looking back. "Get the camera ready."
"C-Camera? For what?" the CEO asked.
"For our profile photos," Seo-jun said. "We have a survival show to win. And looking at this mess..."
He scanned the group one last time.
"I have a lot of restructuring to do."
"Camera?" CEO Park fumbled with the strap of his old DSLR. "Here? Now? The lighting is terrible! The background is gray concrete! We look like we're filming a hostage video!"
"Exactly," Seo-jun said, rolling up his sleeves. "It's called 'Gritty Underdog Aesthetic.' The public eats that up. It makes them feel pity. Pity turns into votes."
Seo-jun walked over to the corner of the room where a single fluorescent light flickered. He dragged a dusty stool under it.
"Woo-jin. You're first."
The thug blinked, still shaken by the debt threat. "Me? What do I do?"
Woo-jin sat on the stool. He stiffened up, flashed an awkward, jagged smile, and made a peace sign. It looked ridiculous—like a wolf trying to act like a golden retriever.
"Stop," Seo-jun commanded. "Who told you to smile?"
"Uh... idols are supposed to smile?"
"Not you," Seo-jun said, walking around him like a shark circling prey. "Your canine teeth are slightly uneven. Your smile looks predatory, not cute. If you smile, you look like a bully. But if you don't smile..."
Seo-jun grabbed Woo-jin's chin and tilted it down. He reached out and roughed up the boy's fried, bleached blonde hair, making the dark roots show intentionally.
"Glare at the lens," Seo-jun ordered. "Imagine the camera is the person who stole your wallet."
Woo-jin's expression instantly darkened. His eyes narrowed, burning with genuine annoyance. The shadow from the overhead light cast his face in sharp relief against the messy blonde spikes.
"Click it now!" Seo-jun snapped.
Click.
CEO Park looked at the preview screen and gasped. "Whoa... he looks terrifying. But... cool?"
"Next," Seo-jun said, pushing Woo-jin off the stool. "Cha Eun-kyul."
The lazy chaebol walked over, sighing. He stood there with slumped shoulders, looking bored.
"Eun-kyul," Seo-jun whispered, leaning in close so the others couldn't hear. "If you look cheap in this photo, it will circulate on the internet forever. Imagine the headlines: 'Heir to the Cha Empire looks like a homeless beggar.' Your mother will faint."
Eun-kyul flinched. His spine straightened instantly. The fluorescent light hit his glossy, midnight-blue hair, making it shine like expensive silk. He lifted his chin, looking down at the camera with an air of natural, aristocratic arrogance. It wasn't acting; it was breeding.
"Perfect," Seo-jun smirked. "The 'Dark Prince' concept. Snap it."
Click.
"And finally..."
Seo-jun turned to the corner. Lee Yul was shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. He had pulled his hoodie strings tight so only his nose was visible.
"I-I can't," Yul whimpered. "Please... don't look at me..."
CEO Park lowered the camera. "Seo-jun, this is impossible. The kid is having a panic attack. We can't use him."
"We can," Seo-jun said calmly.
He walked over to Yul. Instead of comforting him, Seo-jun reached out and pulled the hood down further, completely shadowing Yul's upper face.
Then, he reached into his pocket (where he had grabbed the scissors from the manager's desk earlier) and snipped a lock of Yul's soft, ash-brown bangs, letting the mushroom-colored strands fall over his eyes.
"Don't look at the camera," Seo-jun ordered. "Look at the floor. Hug your knees. Hide."
"H-Hide?"
"Yes. You are the 'Hidden Vocals.' If people can't see your face, they get curious. Mystery creates demand."
Seo-jun stepped back. Under the harsh light, Yul looked small, fragile, and tragic. With his face hidden by the soft brown hair and shadow, he didn't look like a coward. He looked like a Broken Angel.
"Snap it," Seo-jun said.
Click.
[System Alert]
[Asset Valuation Updated]
Kang Woo-jin (Blonde): concept [Wild Beast] applied. Market Appeal +15%.
Cha Eun-kyul (Midnight Blue): concept [Ice Prince] applied. Market Appeal +20%.
Lee Yul (Ash Brown): concept [Tragic Mystery] applied. Market Appeal +30%. Host's [Producer Eye] has successfully repackaged the garbage.
Seo-jun looked at the three photos on the camera screen. A Beast. A Prince. A Mystery.
And finally, he stepped into the frame himself. He stood in the center, flanked by the others. His own platinum silver hair caught the flickering light, glowing with an almost unnatural, ethereal halo. He didn't glare, and he didn't look arrogant.
He simply looked... perfect. He gave a soft, faint smile that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes.
Click.
"Done," Seo-jun said, snatching the camera from the stunned CEO. "Upload these to the Survival Show application portal immediately."
"Wait," Woo-jin spoke up, his voice still wary. "We don't even have a group name. The application asks for a Team Name."
The room went silent. The CEO scratched his head. "Uh... StarDust Boys?"
"No," Seo-jun said instantly. "That sounds like a cleaning product."
He looked at the three of them. A blonde thug with anger issues. A brown-haired coward with anxiety. A blue-black haired brat with too much money. And himself, a silver-haired capitalist inside a stolen body.
They were all broken pieces. Jagged shards that didn't fit together.
"We are MOSAIC," Seo-jun said.
"Mosaic?" Eun-kyul raised an eyebrow. "Because we're art?"
Seo-jun smiled. It was the smile of a merchant selling a counterfeit painting.
"Sure," he lied smoothly. "Because when broken pieces come together, they make a masterpiece."
And because, he added in his head, I'm going to take you broken shards and sell you for a fortune.
[System Notification]
Group Registered: MOSAIC. Mission Start: [Survival of the Fittest]. Objective: Rank in the Top 10 of "Project StarPick". Time Remaining: 48 Hours to Filming.
Seo-jun clapped his hands. "Alright, livestock. The photo shoot is over."
He pointed to the door.
"Now, we practice until you vomit. I have 5 Billion Won to earn, and none of you are going anywhere until you can dance in sync."