The broken windows of Zenith Tower were boarded up with plywood. It looked like a black eye on the face of a god.
But Mason didn't retaliate with police or lawyers. He retaliated with a press release.
Yoo-jin sat in the BK Building's third-floor conference room (formerly a janitor's closet), staring at the TV.
[ZENITH ANNOUNCES NEW GLOBAL SURVIVAL SHOW: 'PROJECT GODDESS']
[100 Trainees. 1 Winner. The Perfect Idol.]
"He's pivoting," Yoo-jin muttered, tapping a pen against the table. "He knows he can't kill us quietly, so he's trying to drown us out with content."
"It's working," David Kim scrolled through his tablet. "The internet is obsessed. They're already forgetting about the 'Roof Party.' Everyone wants to see Mason's new show."
"Of course they do," Sae-ri leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "It's a gladiatorial arena. People love watching dreams get crushed."
Yoo-jin looked at the promotional image. It showed the three holographic Sirens looming over a hundred terrified human girls.
Survival of the Fittest.
"He's using the show to beta-test the Violet Signal," Yoo-jin realized. "He'll broadcast it to millions. Every episode will be a mass-hypnosis event."
"So we hack the broadcast?" Min-ji suggested, polishing her bat.
"No," Yoo-jin stood up. "Hacking is reactive. We need to be the main event."
He walked to the window, looking down at the street where fans were already lining up for Zenith's open auditions.
"If Mason is hosting a survival show," Yoo-jin smiled dangerously. "We need to submit a contestant."
The team gathered in the practice room.
The twelve defectors—the "Ragtag Dozen"—sat on the floor, looking nervous.
"I can't go back there," Ha-eun, the pink-haired former A-Rank, whispered. "They'll eat me alive. I defected."
"That's exactly why you have to go," Yoo-jin said. "You're the villain. The traitor. The camera will love you."
"I don't want the camera to love me," she hugged her knees. "I want to sing."
"Then sing," Yoo-jin knelt in front of her. "But do it on his stage. Hijack his signal."
"He'll cut my mic."
"He won't," Yoo-jin said. "Because ratings are god. Conflict is content. Mason won't cut you if you bring in viewers. He'll try to humiliate you instead."
"And then?"
"And then you win," Yoo-jin stood up. "But we're not sending you alone."
He looked at Sol and Luna.
"Twins. You're entering as a duo unit."
"Us?" Sol pointed at herself. "We're wanted criminals! The face recognition software will flag us at the door."
"Not if you wear masks," Yoo-jin threw a packet on the floor.
It wasn't a mask. It was a pair of motorbike helmets with LED visors.
"Daft Punk style?" Luna asked, picking one up.
"Cyberpunk style," Yoo-jin corrected. "Your concept is 'The Glitch.' You don't speak. You don't take off the helmets. You just destroy everyone in the vocal rounds."
"And me?" Min-ji asked, stepping forward. "I want in."
"No," Yoo-jin shook his head. "You're too volatile. If a judge insults you, you'll hit them with a chair. We need you on the outside, running interference."
"Boring," Min-ji pouted.
"We need one more," Yoo-jin looked at the group. "Someone who can infiltrate the dorms. Someone who can hack the voting system from the inside."
Kai raised his hand. "I'm a guy. It's a girl group show."
"I know," Yoo-jin looked at Sae-ri.
Sae-ri froze. "Me? Yoo-jin, I'm an actress. I can't dance."
"You don't need to dance," Yoo-jin said. "You need to act like a trainee. You're the mole."
"I'm too old to be a trainee! I'm 26!"
"In this industry, that's practically a grandmother," Yoo-jin agreed brutally. "But that's your angle. 'The Desperate Last Chance.' The audience loves a tragic underdog story."
Sae-ri glared at him. "I hate you."
"I know," Yoo-jin handed her a fake ID. "Your name is Kim Mi-so. You're a failed ballad singer from a bankrupt agency."
"Fine," Sae-ri snatched the ID. "But if they make me do aegyo, I'm killing everyone."
The audition hall was a coliseum.
Zenith had rented the Olympic Gymnastics Arena. Thousands of girls with number tags pinned to their chests sat in the stands, shivering in the air conditioning.
Sol and Luna (in helmets) sat in the back row. Sae-ri sat in the middle, looking convincingly pathetic in a baggy grey hoodie.
Ha-eun sat in the front. She wasn't hiding. She stared straight at the judges' table.
Mason Gold wasn't there. Instead, the judges were three AI avatars on massive screens.
[Judge 1: Vocal Analyzer]
[Judge 2: Dance Algorithm]
[Judge 3: Visual Scanner]
"Contestant 402," the Vocal Analyzer boomed. "Step forward."
A girl walked onto the stage. She sang a ballad. It was beautiful.
BEEP.
[Score: 78/100. Pitch deviation detected in bar 4. Eliminated.]
The floor opened up. The girl screamed as she dropped into a foam pit below the stage.
"Cruel," Sae-ri whispered. "It's a slaughterhouse."
"Contestant 403. Lee Ha-eun."
The arena went silent. Everyone knew her face. The traitor.
Ha-eun walked onto the stage. She stood on the trapdoor.
"You have returned," the Visual Scanner noted coldly. "Your loyalty score is 0."
"I'm not here for loyalty," Ha-eun spoke into the mic. Her hands were shaking, but her voice was steady. "I'm here to prove the algorithm is wrong."
"Proceed."
Music started. It was a generic, bubbly pop song. Zenith's choice.
Ha-eun didn't sing it bubbly. She sang it angry. She attacked the notes.
I just wanna be loved...
She belted the high note, adding a growl that wasn't in the sheet music.
BEEP.
[Vocal Score: 92/100.]
[Style Score: ERROR. Non-standard interpretation.]
The trapdoor shuddered. It unlocked.
"Wait," a human voice interrupted.
A spotlight hit the VIP box. Mason Gold was sitting there, drinking wine.
"Let her pass," Mason said into a microphone.
"Chairman?" the AI judge asked. "Her style violates the parameters."
"She has heat," Mason smiled. "Look at the live chat."
A massive screen showed the comments scrolling by.
IS THAT THE TRAITOR?
SHE'S SO RUDE.
I HOPE SHE FALLS.
SHE CAN SING THOUGH.
"They hate her," Mason said, delighted. "She's the villain. Keep her. Every show needs a witch to burn."
The trapdoor locked again. Ha-eun didn't bow. She just walked off stage.
"Contestant 404 & 405. Unit 'Glitch'."
Sol and Luna walked out. Their LED helmets displayed a scrolling text: NO SIGNAL.
"Remove your headgear," the Visual Scanner ordered.
Sol tapped her helmet. TEXT: NO.
"Insolence. Eliminated."
Sol raised a microphone.
She didn't sing. She beatboxed. A heavy, dubstep rhythm.
Bpf-tsh-Bpf-tsh.
Luna joined in with an operatic vocal run that danced over the beat.
It was weird. It was electric. It sounded like the future.
[Dance Score: N/A]
[Vocal Score: 99/100]
The AI paused. It didn't know how to judge them.
"Pass," Mason ordered from the box. "Mystery creates engagement. Keep the helmets on."
Sol and Luna walked off, high-fiving.
"Contestant 499. Kim Mi-so."
Sae-ri stood up. Her legs felt heavy. She walked to the center stage.
She looked at the AI judges. She looked at Mason in the box.
"Talent?" the Vocal Analyzer asked.
"Acting," Sae-ri said softly.
"This is an idol show. Sing or dance."
Sae-ri closed her eyes. She thought of the script Yoo-jin gave her. The Desperate Last Chance.
She started to cry. Not fake tears. Real, ugly tears of frustration.
"I have nothing left!" she screamed at the AI. "I'm old! I'm broke! My company failed! This is all I have!"
She fell to her knees, sobbing into the mic.
"Please... just look at me!"
The audience gasped. It was raw. Uncomfortable.
[Emotional Impact Score: 100/100.]
Mason leaned forward in his box. He loved desperation. It was his favorite flavor.
"Pass," Mason whispered. "She's the tragedy arc."
Sae-ri stood up, wiping her tears. She looked directly at Mason. For a split second, her eyes weren't sad. They were cold.
Gotcha.
Back in the BK Building, Yoo-jin watched the monitor.
"We're in," David cheered. "Four operatives inside the dorms."
"Now the real work starts," Yoo-jin said. "David, monitor the voting servers. Mason will rig them for sure. We need to catch him in the act."
"What about the girls?" Kai asked. "They're trapped in there. No phones. No contact."
"They have contact," Yoo-jin picked up a tiny, transparent earpiece. "Sae-ri is wearing a bone-conduction receiver disguised as an earring. I can talk to her, but she can't talk back."
"So you're the voice in her head?" Min-ji laughed. "That's not creepy at all."
"It's producing," Yoo-jin put the headset on.
"Sae-ri," Yoo-jin spoke into the mic. "Testing. Blink twice if you hear me."
On the screen, Sae-ri was standing in the dormitory line, holding a tray of food. She blinked twice.
"Good," Yoo-jin leaned back. "Tonight, find the server room. It's usually in the basement of the dorms for local caching."
Sae-ri blinked once. Understood.
Suddenly, the screen flickered.
A new feed appeared. A hidden camera inside the dorms.
It showed the girls unpacking. But something was wrong.
There was a speaker in the corner of the room. It was emitting a low, violet pulse.
"The Signal," Eden pointed. "He's conditioning them while they sleep."
"That's illegal," Kai slammed the table. "That's brainwashing."
"It's 'optimization'," Yoo-jin corrected grimly. "By the final episode, those girls won't be individuals. They'll be a hive mind."
"Unless we wake them up," Yoo-jin pressed the talk button.
"Sae-ri. Change of plans. Forget the server room."
Sae-ri blinked, confused.
"Tonight," Yoo-jin said. "You're going to throw a party."
"A party?" Min-ji asked. "In a survival show prison?"
"Yes," Yoo-jin grinned. "If Mason wants to control their minds with order... we're going to break the conditioning with chaos."
"Sae-ri," Yoo-jin whispered. "Get the snacks. Get the contraband. And most importantly..."
"Get the gossip."