Chapter 36: "The Real-Time Viewer Count Is……"
70,000.
The real-time viewer count, which they'd expected to drop after Rakwon's performance ended, had actually increased. And not just by one or two people—it had surged by a full 20,000. That was on par with attendance at a typical domestic sports event.
"……Insane."
The 'Cheonbihoe' live stream, which Park Jin-seon had tuned into casually thinking he might snag some real-time clips to monetize in the future, kept delivering shock after shock. The first was the viewer count, the second……
"Uh…… what the hell is this."
A rock-solid performance that shattered prejudices about idols. The facial expressions during those screams could hold their own on a comedy show. Hell, he could already picture variety PDs flooding G&X Entertainment with casting calls.
Thanks to that, Black Label was popping up in real-time across every community site.
Images burned into the public's minds don't fade easily. Even if Black Label followed up with sexy or pure concepts, this impact would linger. Everyone would just remember the "Ha!!" "Ho!!" "Heup!!" screams, right?
And amid it all, some soccer fan was dropping weird memes about "Ho-woo."
"Did they plan this?"
Park Jin-seon crunched on his potato chips. Even as idols, Black Label's fandom boost only went so far against named groups like Rakwon. For third-tier nobodies who hadn't even made the candidate list, pity votes like this were a stretch.
"Or are they screaming their lungs out just to snag these pity votes?"
Didn't matter. If the goal was name recognition for Black Label, mission accomplished. In the most ridiculous way possible.
Sacrificing their image just to pump up their barely-there name value.
"Is this what they call missing the forest for the trees?"
Park Jin-seon grabbed his cola with salt-crusted fingers. The fizz hit his throat cool and sharp, and before the burp could rise, his mouth was humming Black Label's tune without thinking.
Like those salty chips he couldn't stop shoving in his mouth, his shoulders started bopping to the rhythm.
Weird. The inexplicable hype flooding his brain vanished in a flash.
More than the bizarre performance, it was the tiri-ring-ding-dong, ting-dong! Dong-dong beat rattling his eardrums.
His hand froze midway to the chip bag.
"Ah, crap, not this."
Park Jin-seon was swept away. Caught in the web of that nameless composer.
At first, it was spite. Idol stanning since middle school, and this keyboard-banging hack thinks he knows photo editing? Telling him to suck it up, feel the vibe. Who asked for your hot takes?
It wasn't just the money—he wanted to prove he could deliver.
So he'd fired up the Black Label live. Now he was glued, hypnotized, unable to look away.
Big trouble.
"I'm addicted."
Ah, this wasn't supposed to happen. His arms, cradling his head, started shaking like Black Label's.
He belted the chorus along with Ray and Won Ji-min strutting forward, arms flailing.
Just before the stage wrapped, Park Jin-seon remembered to vote for Black Label.
Too bad. Online votes and judge scores for Rakwon and Black Label weren't revealed right away—spoiler block to drive main broadcast views.
Black Label wrapped with a quick greeting, and the live stream cut off sharp.
But he'd recorded the screen for GIFs. Park Jin-seon could rewatch anytime.
The stage was over, but Black Label wasn't done with him.
He fired up his editing software and loaded the recording.
First thing that jumped out: Won Ji-min, obviously.
"Not a princess? How does someone look this flawless even in close-up no-makeup shots with zero black history."
She's stupid pretty. No wonder people were talking with a face like that on a freakshow stage.
Fire lit in Park Jin-seon's eyes. Slap on #BlackLabel #ScreamIdol right now, and it'd suck up traffic like crazy.
Faster than anyone. He had to finish quick.
Park Jin-seon hit spacebar.
In the playback, he froze the most mischievous expression, grabbed his drawing tablet pen.
Traffic first. Post-production later—upload priority.
Dongpal, aka Park Jin-seon, sliced and diced fast for his main account.
Tiri-ring!! Ting-ding!
But his body wouldn't obey. Every replay hammered that melody home.
He couldn't contain the surging groove.
To focus, he had to shake it off first.
Park Jin-seon tossed the pen aside.
"It's only a minute anyway."
Better to purge the earworm and dive back in.
He kept the video rolling and shot to his feet.
"Eoh-woooo~!"
Humming Black Label's intro, he stretched his arms wide and spun.
Copying their choreo exactly. Easy. The dance screamed "follow along"—pure audience participation level.
This was doable. Upload urge spiking.
"No wonder it's blowing up as a challenge."
Ambition rising. He looped the video, mimicking like a trainee.
Swiveling his hips, shaking hands at the ceiling—
"Un……niiii."
The door flew open. Park Jin-seon whipped around.
His five-year-old sister stared.
Weird pose. One arm bent, the other groping his knee.
Da-yeon turned away blankly. Big breaths, stomping steps.
"Uh…… Da. Da-yeon-ah."
"M-Mom! Sis is acting weird!!!"
***
Click. Clap-clap!
Lights out.
Black Label's stage ended.
Mics picked up their ragged breaths, then cut.
Dead silence blanketed the stage.
Something felt off. It shouldn't be this quiet. Pitch black, nothing visible.
Won Ji-min scanned around.
One fan in the crowd waved a light stick furiously.
Pity—no light sticks for Black Label. Gotta be Rakwon's merch. Taunting the rivals.
It'd happened before. Rival fandoms boycotting with silence after the opponent's stage.
At the 'cut,' she exhaled hard, dropped the ending pose.
Rakwon's diehard fans could totally pull that off, she thought—then cheers erupted.
Hallucination? No.
-Black Label!!
-Black Label!!
-Black Label!!!
The crowd chanted en masse.
Incomprehensible. No clue why Rakwon's fans cheered Black Label.
Not just Won Ji-min—the others were stunned too. Ray and Hye-soo froze solid.
Joo Seong-hwan rang the bell, snapping them out.
"Let's give a huge round of applause and cheers for Black Label's amazing stage!"
The roaring crowd clapped; per assistant director cue, Black Label exited.
Manager oppa first in sight. Won Ji-min hit him with it.
"O-Oppa. What's going on?"
Expecting answers, but even he was clueless.
"No idea."
Even Black Label's manager couldn't grasp their Rakwon-shattering records.
"Uh, you know you're blowing up online communities right now……"
Black Label, busy performing, hadn't checked hot posts. He shoved his phone at them.
Scream idol buzz was online—offline was different, right?
Won Ji-min couldn't process it.
Post-stages, PD Jo Young-soo declared a sudden 10-minute break for "stage management."
Staff hustled corridors; tall Rakwon spotted Black Label, strode over.
"Great stage."
"Pardon?"
"Mind-blowing."
Rakwon straightforward, offered handshake.
"You're Black Label's leader, Ji-min, right?"
"Y-Yeah……"
What was this? She missed Seo Hyun-woo. Just nail the stage, no worries—he was nowhere.
Brain fried. Puzzle with no starting piece.
"Learned a ton thanks to Black Label."
Rival Rakwon spouted more nonsense; manager oppa got dragged by Cheonbihoe staff.
"Uh……"
Mind blanking—then giggles from afar.
"W-Wait."
Won Ji-min walked the hall, rounded the corner.
Seo Hyun-woo on his knees, sniffling.
"O-Oppa, crying?"
Arm over eyes, he pointed at nothing.
"You…… surpassed it."
"Huh?"
"Black Label searches hit 100,000!!"