Incitement and Fabrication

"Why are you doing this?" came the bright, cheerful reply. Park Na-eun the reporter and the cameraman's faces drained of color in real time.

"W-well, we were actually looking for the room master…"

"Oh! You were looking for my sister?"

"Yes…"

Even while claiming to be searching, their reluctant expressions made Haengmal-eum tilt her head in confusion.

"My sister should be over at the hair salon."

"The hair salon?"

"Yep. Just follow the road that way, turn one corner, and you'll see it."

Park Na-eun glanced in the direction Haengmal-eum pointed and nodded.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Please tell her I'm working hard!"

"Haha, sure. I'll definitely pass that along."

After handing over the gift certificate she had been carrying, Park Na-eun turned to leave.

"Are we really going to check it out?"

"Of course we are. What else are we supposed to do if we don't?"

"You saw that terrifying sashimi knife too, didn't you…?"

"Shh! I told you, the owner runs a sushi restaurant."

The moment the cameraman finished speaking, Park Na-eun shot him a withering glare that had gone completely cold.

"You do realize how ridiculous that sounds, right?"

"……"

"This place is weird. People who look like gangsters are just wandering around like it's nothing… But what's even stranger are the merchants."

"They seem happy about it?"

At the cameraman's words, Park Na-eun gave a small nod. The scenes they had witnessed while walking through the market were clearly out of place. Even though groups that obviously looked like gangsters were roaming about, the merchants were the ones approaching first, offering food. The gangsters, in turn, waved their hands and refused.

"You know how it is. There are things you can take on and things you can't."

Park Na-eun had no choice but to agree with the cameraman. The news outlet she worked for, Daily Forum News, positioned itself as infotainment. While viewers enjoyed the lighthearted atmosphere, the industry dismissed it as "snack news"—a lower-quality product.

'It's basically a demotion. Just like he said, I crossed the wrong line…'

Thinking about her own situation, a sigh escaped Park Na-eun's lips as gloom washed over her.

"We just have to do what we're told."

"You're right about that."

"Looks like we're here. Let's focus on the job for now."

At the cameraman's words, Park Na-eun pushed aside her stray thoughts and looked around. Right in front of her stood what had to be the hair salon Haengmal-eum had mentioned.

No matter the store, most people grew uncomfortable the moment a camera was shoved in their face. Knowing this all too well, Park Na-eun left the waiting cameraman outside and opened the salon door herself.

Ding-a-ling—!

With the cheerful chime of the bell, she stepped inside. The employee at the front counter bowed politely.

"Hello! I'm Park Na-eun, a reporter from Daily Forum News. I came to ask if we could do some interior filming related to the festival."

"Just a moment. I'll go ask the director."

"Thank you! Please also let them know we'd like a quick interview!"

It's hard to spit on a smiling face. That was one of the virtues Park Na-eun always valued. 'It's also a survival tactic in this industry…'

She had spent years forcing smiles she didn't want just to land interviews. Thanks to that, she now found herself gently rubbing her own cheeks, her facial muscles frozen in a permanent grin.

"Haa…"

Tap, tap.

While she was sighing deeply, footsteps approached. The person who came into view was the same employee who had gone inside earlier.

"There aren't any other customers right now, so you can come in."

"Ah! Thank you!"

After giving the cameraman outside an okay sign, Park Na-eun watched as he entered with the heavy camera in tow.

"Please follow me. There's a room in the back where the director and the client are. I heard the client is an idol."

"What? An idol?"

The two of them exchanged glances, as if on cue.

'Jackpot!'

'Bonus!'

Though the salon tried to emphasize ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a sense of luxury, it was still just a hair salon located slightly off the market street. If they had done even a little research, they would have known this was a rookie idol group that hadn't even debuted yet. But Daily Forum News was a soft news outlet that only handled heavy topics lightly. On top of that, the festival had been thrown together at the last minute, so the information was too limited for the two of them to catch.

While perceptions of internet broadcasting had been shifting lately, until now it had been treated as something shady. If you weren't in the know, you wouldn't notice the information that was right in front of you. Fortunately, as a reporter whose job involved handling information, Park Na-eun had a rough idea.

'The crazy woman who grabbed a politician by the hair, openly cursed out reporters, and even smashed their cameras when they came to her house. The journalists' public enemy number one—Han Ga-eul.'

It wasn't as if Park Na-eun hadn't looked into her. Even so, information about Han Ga-eul was strangely limited.

Creak!

Park Na-eun, lost in thought, snapped back to reality at the sound of the door opening.

"Hello! I'm Park Na-eun, a reporter from Daily Forum News."

"It must be hot out there. Come on in."

The person who greeted her was a middle-aged man with a goatee that didn't quite fit Korea's usual aesthetic, seated in a chair while receiving treatment. Four men were getting their hair done, and two middle-aged stylists were working on them.

"Oh my, you're from the news? Our Serenade is going to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do well."

"Thank you, ma'am!"

"Hohoho."

The man with the goatee let ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out a strange laugh, paused briefly with a cosmetic product in hand, then resumed the makeup session.

"I heard you were available for an interview. Is that still okay?"

"Yes, everyone said it's fine."

Once the salon director gave permission, Park Na-eun pulled out her recorder.

"Hello! I'm Morning, the main vocalist of Serenade. If it's alright, may I do the introductions?"

"Please go ahead."

"First, this is the director who's taking care of our hair."

At Morning's words, the salon director smiled at the camera and gave a light bow.

"And this is the president who's doing our makeup."

"Nice to meet you. I run a cosplay shop, but I came over for a bit after getting a request."

Park Na-eun was completely bewildered by what she was hearing.

'A group I've never even heard of, and they're just winging the preparations…?'

Without noticing her confusion, Morning continued the introductions.

"And…"

"Hyung, hyung."

Even though they were in the middle of introductions in front of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the camera, the youngest member, Dawn, who was sitting nearby, whispered to Morning. No matter how inexperienced they were, wrong was still wrong. Morning and, by extension, Park Na-eun couldn't help but feel flustered.

"Senior Im Yoo-jun is outside."

At Dawn's additional remark, everyone in the room had no choice but to accept it. Im Yoo-jun was that much of a heavyweight in the entertainment industry.

"Um… Reporter?"

"Yes?"

"They said Senior Im Yoo-jun has arrived outside."

"……"

Even though they were in the middle of an interview, Park Na-eun immediately understood what he was implying.

"Haha, we're just a pre-debut idol group, after all."

It meant they were fine with her going out. If it was Im Yoo-jun, he would be surrounded by a crowd and bodyguards, making it impossible to even approach, let alone conduct an interview. It was the kind of situation where she should have rushed out immediately, yet Park Na-eun felt a strange sense of kinship with Morning, who was awkwardly scratching his head.

"I…"

As Park Na-eun slowly opened her mouth, everyone's eyes in the room turned toward her lips.

"I came here to interview Serenade. Would it be alright to continue?"

Even though this was something that required rational judgment, Park Na-eun felt as though her body and mind were acting separately. Without knowing what consequences her decision might bring later.

'I really messed up. My career…'

"Bwahaha, those lunatics."

Albert approached Jeremy, who had been chuckling alone while staring at the computer screen.

"Friend, you're here?"

"Jeremy Farrell. If you're going to work, do it properly."

"Here we go with the nagging the second you arrive. I am doing it properly, you know?"

Jeremy turned his laptop toward Albert the moment he started getting scolded.

"What is this?"

"My colleagues."

"Isn't the young lady's information handling supposed to be your job?"

"I'm doing that too. But look at these guys. They're desperately blocking the young lady's information. They're even hacking without hesitation?"

Albert knew Jeremy's playful personality better than anyone. That was exactly why he found it hard to argue back. He knew Jeremy was an unparalleled specialist when it came to information.

"It could just be one unusual individual."

"One person could be possible. But it's definitely not just one. The internet's instantaneous flood of information is too vast to completely block at the source. Even I can't do that."

"Then?"

"It means at least thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people are causing this chaos."

"……Do whatever you want."

"Obviously. Media manipulation is my specialty. I could make the White House president fall as a sexual harasser in an instant. A humble guy like me shaking the world."

Jeremy spun his chair away from Albert and began moving his hands with his signature mischievous smile.

"Friends, emergency! It's incitement and fabrication!!"

"Tsk. You're such a Wag the Dog fan. No matter how much the body shakes, we're still just the tail."

Albert clicked his tongue behind him, but Jeremy paid no attention.