Invasion from Seoul: Why Did This Happen?
To understand why Invasion from Seoul turned into such a mess, we need to rewind a bit. Back to right after Group Sound's performance.
"Our band... chooses the Dohwaseo team as our mentors."
"Great! An excellent choice!"
It was a half-joking, half-serious scramble for the mentees. Like a marketplace haggling over stolen goods, mentors threw out promises left and right: "Group Sound, pick us and we'll upgrade all your outfits to designer labels!" "Team up with us, and we'll feature you on all our album tracks!!"
In the end, the team chosen by Group Sound was Dohwaseo, made up of singer-songwriter Doyeon and solo guitarist Kim Jinseo.
Myeongjeon gave the official reason as, "You two seem to have the most sincerity to be mentors..." But the real reason? "They don't seem like the type to meddle too much."
They might barge in as mentors and spout useless nonsense...
Even pros would try to offer helpful advice. But for bands at this show's level, that advice might be useful. To Myeongjeon—a high school girl by age but professor-level by experience—such tips were pointless.
A few more performances followed. Mentors started burning through their precious picks to snag Group Sound, and toward the end of filming, the MC was yelling, "Last chance!! You can switch picks now!!"
Some mentors actually did switch, sending bands from heaven to hell or pulling them up from the depths. Once the chaos settled and the six elimination bands were set...
The MC stepped back to center stage and launched into his script.
"Bands not chosen today... this isn't the end. Repacharge! The loser revival round gives you another shot at glory. Even the picked bands can't relax—the lions returning from hell might sink their claws into your throats!"
The MC, catching his breath after the hype, turned serious. "And now, something even more crucial: the next round's mission! What is it? And what role do today's audience scores play? Many of you must be wondering. Here's the answer!"
He pointed his cue card at the screen, and with flashy effects, titles started popping up. Twenty-four songs. "Bullet Boyz," "Noise," "Girl Friend"—idol names unfamiliar to Myeongjeon.
"The next round mission is arrangement. Let's face it: Korea's music scene is currently led by Idols—an undeniable reality!"
Most tracks on the list were solid picks—well-known to the public and ripe for band makeovers.
"For the next round, pick any song from this list of 24 and arrange it! We'll evaluate your arrangement skills, creativity, and more. Any genre goes! The more shocking and unique, the better your score. Performance counts too! But above all, it has to slap."
But the bands zeroed in not on the safe bets, but on some tracks. Myeongjeon overheard whispers: "We absolutely cannot get stuck with that one." "What's Katrina...?" "At least better than Jumping."
What kind of song gets that reaction?
"Heard of the ones at the bottom?"
"Nope?"
"From like ten years ago, right? Names ring a bell, but..."
Iseo and Seoha chatted; Myeongjeon tilted her head. Whatever they were, the vibe wasn't good.
"And how do you pick? Based on audience scores! Higher score means earlier pick priority! First dibs to audience score #1, [WEKIDS]! Rock-bottom [Group Sound]? You're stuck with whatever's left!"
The crowd gasped in shock. Myeongjeon? No big deal. Idol songs were made to be catchy, after all. Should be fine.
* * *
"What do we do with this?"
Arrangement meeting. Zero progress. Staring at the impossible track, Myeongjeon clutched her head. In decades of music, this felt like uncharted hell.
Her phone screen mocked her with girl idols dancing like V6 engines—hands on knees in tracksuits, jerking out in stiff poses, spinning heads leaving afterimages. Horse dances. The works.
Lyrics? No salvation there. Just endless "Jumping!" "Pop pop pop!" Something screamed between, but post-song? Jumping! Pop pop up! Jumping! Pop! Jump after me! Like popcorn! Blah blah.
The girls did bring ideas: Polish the disco melody into disco rock. Ignore lyrics, slap on band sound for a ballad vibe.
To Myeongjeon, all trash. Too safe, or clashing with the concept/lyrics. She hadn't touched it herself, but still—no.
"This is kinda addictive, though."
Ignoring Myeongjeon's turmoil, Iseo and Hyeona—in tracksuits, no less—mimicked the MV dances. Puckered lips, off-beat jerks. Explained why kids said stuff "kings me off." Had to be for moments like this.
"Next shoot's when again?"
Ignoring the dancers, Seoha asked.
"Uh... we've got some buffer till then, but..."
"Mentor check? Isn't that a thing?"
"That's the killer. No ideas brewing before then."
Myeongjeon swept back her hair. Composing alone? Time aplenty. Rehearsals? Tight. Plus mentor inspections. Concept speed decided their fate.
Just drop out?
Confident in most music gigs, this mission? Brutal. Turn cringy disco idol pop into band gold? Insane. Better tank for Repacharge, climb back.
But nah. Too risky—unknown future missions. Round 1 was dominance: untouchable. Flop Round 2? Laughingstock.
No sharp plan, though. Myeongjeon eyed the ceiling, then dropped her gaze. Somehow... gotta find a way.
"Ah! I just had a genius idea!"
Iseo shrieked, bolting across the practice room.
"If it's not genius and just weird bullshit, you're getting hit."
"No, for real. This song's straight-up 'cringe' in boomer terms, right?"
Myeongjeon muttered, "Boomer?" Iseo barreled on.
"So amp it up even more?"
"What?"
"Like, take this..." Iseo spun, engine-danced. "And crank it to extreme. Go full chaotic."
"I get the gist."
Solid logic. Rock covers of idols weren't new—Yoon Do-hyun Band's "Run Devil Run" on I Am a Singer, Sinai's "Gangnam Style."
Why skip it? Too obvious, even for Myeongjeon out of touch.
Twist cringe into "cool"? Basic. Iseo's pitch? Push to the limit. Bold.
"Good idea... but how? It's B-movie vibes already. Piling on won't elevate—just schmaltzy C-grade. Not funnier or better."
"Yeah..."
Iseo deflated. Myeongjeon crossed, uncrossed arms, scratched head, repeated. Path visible, but blocked. How?
"Hey, hey, hey. Listen to this. This could work?"
Seoha shook her shoulder, shoving the phone. Myeongjeon plugged in earbuds, sipped coffee.
The drums hit. High-pitched vocals clashed, yet meshed with gritty sound.
This is it!
"Gah!"
Coffee sprayed Iseo like dry lightning; she screamed. Myeongjeon ignored, lost in the track.
* * *
After Invasion 2024's official announcement, net reactions varied by community but aligned: Why make a Season 2?
Modest success, meh ratings, meh skills, meh everything. Invasion 2023 neither bombed nor boomed. Few expected a sequel.
But sentiment flipped fast. Yoon Dong-wook—the "Yoon Bastard" who peaked Mtown auditions—returned.
Not idols, his main gig, but at the presser: "I'll deliver even more evolved fun."
Hardcore audition fans griped "modern shows are bland" flocked, noise pulling in casuals. Pre-air buzz hit communities: Should they let Yoon back on auditions?Ethics matter now...
What exploded it? An early Episode 0 interview insert.
Four-girl band enters. Pretty girl: "Hello, I'm Ha Suyeon."
Cut to interview.
Next: Other bands playing guitar.
[Guitar's tough.]
[Beginners, but learning!]
Positive effort vibes. Then emotionless stare from Ha Suyeon.
Obvious producer intent. Communities erupted.