The morning after the "Vampire's Requiem" was the first time in ninety-seven lifetimes that Kang-joon woke up without a "Days Until Death" counter ticking behind his eyelids. Instead, he woke up to the sound of Jae-hyun snoring and the smell of toasted bread. The Consortium's retreat had left Starline Entertainment in a state of chaotic euphoria; the CEO had reportedly spent the night dancing on his desk, and the trainees were being treated like national heroes.
Kang-joon sat up, his body aching from the "hydro-dynamic resistance" of the previous night, and pulled out his encrypted phone. No messages from Min-seo regarding legal emergencies. No warnings from the System. Just a calendar invite from the manager: [PROJECT: HEALING – 7-Day Coastal Retreat].
"168 hours of non-structured activity," Kang-joon murmured, reaching for his notebook. "The probability of a boredom-induced decrease in group synergy is 22%. I must draft a tactical vacation itinerary."
The packing process was the first sign that the "Professor" was not taking the term "vacation" lightly. While the other boys were tossing swim trunks and sunglasses into duffel bags, Kang-joon was methodically organizing a specialized tactical rucksack.
"Hyung, why are you packing a pH-testing kit for the ocean?" Hyun Woo asked, pausing while applying a triple layer of waterproof sunscreen.
"The coastal region we are visiting has a high concentration of limestone runoff," Kang-joon explained, vacuum-sealing his moisture-wicking shirts. "A sudden shift in skin acidity combined with salt-air exposure can lead to a 10% increase in follicular inflammation. If we want to look debut-ready in seven days, we cannot afford 'beach-induced' breakouts."
He then pulled out a roll of heavy-duty paracord and a portable weather station. "Also, the seasonal trade winds suggest a 15% chance of a localized squall. I've prepared a shelter-reinforcement kit for our beach umbrellas."
Min-soo walked by, wearing a designer Hawaiian shirt and holding a surfboard he clearly didn't know how to use. He stopped, stared at Kang-joon's tactical rucksack, and sighed. "Professor, we're going to a luxury villa with a private chef. We aren't being dropped into the DMZ."
"Preparation is the difference between a holiday and a disaster, Min-soo-ssi," Kang-joon said, clipping a professional-grade first aid kit to his belt.
The bus ride to the East Sea was the most relaxed the group had been in months. The "Monster Unit" was joined by the rest of the Top 18 survivors, as the CEO had decided to fund the trip for everyone as a "morale investment."
Kang-joon sat at the back, his laptop open. He wasn't looking at charts. He was looking at the fan forums.
[THE KANG-JOON ANALYSIS LOUNGE - VACATION TRACKER]
@LogicIsSexy: THEY'RE ON THE BUS! Look at Kang-joon's bag. Is that a satellite phone? Why is he like this? ToT #TacticalVacation #ProfessorInTheWild
@VampireStan: The 'Monster Unit' is finally resting. Did you see the news? The 'Vampire's Requiem' performance has reached 50 million views in 24 hours. The Consortium literally ran away because the boys became too expensive.
@K-MemeHub:
Caption: "According to my calculations, that cloud is 70% cumulonimbus. Everyone, put on your tactical raincoats."
The bus pulled up to a stunning white villa overlooking the turquoise waters of the East Sea. The boys erupted, sprinting toward the sand like golden retrievers released from a kennel. Even the stoic Lee Hoon was seen doing a victory lap near the tide line.
"The sand," Kang-joon noted, stepping onto the beach and immediately checking his watch. "The granular displacement suggests a high quartz content. The friction coefficient is perfect for calf-muscle conditioning."
He turned to the group, who were already stripping off their shirts to reveal the lean, toned physiques of months of idol training. "Everyone! Before you enter the water, we must perform a dynamic warm-up. The thermal shock of the 18°C water can cause a 5% drop in muscle elasticity, increasing the risk of cramps!"
"Hyung!" Jae-hyun shouted, already waist-deep in the waves. "Just jump in! The physics are fine!"
Min-soo crept up behind Kang-joon, a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, Professor... I've been calculating the center of gravity needed to displace a 70kg human into the ocean."
Kang-joon's eyes narrowed. "Min-soo-ssi, your footwork is currently misaligned for a lifting maneuver—"
Before he could finish, Min-soo and Gun-woo grabbed Kang-joon by the arms. The "Nation's Center" and the "A-Class Powerhouse" worked in perfect synergy.
"Wait! My tactical weather station is in my pocket!" Kang-joon shouted, but it was too late.
With a unified heave, they tossed the "Professor" into the surf. The water was cold, clear, and utterly refreshing. Kang-joon surfaced, his hair plastered to his face, his "tactical" composure completely washed away.
The beach exploded in laughter. For the first time, Kang-joon didn't look like a genius strategist; he looked like a twenty-year-old boy having the time of his life. He wiped the salt from his eyes and looked at his teammates, who were splashing each other and howling with joy.
He realized then that the most important metric wasn't the "Success Score" or the "Commercial Value." It was the [Group Harmony] skill he'd unlocked.
Where H is Harmony, E is Emotional Resonance, S is Shared Experience, and N is the number of members.
The result was infinite.
That evening, the boys gathered around a massive bonfire in front of the villa. The "healing" was in full effect. They were roasting marshmallows, the orange glow of the fire reflecting in their eyes. The competitive edge of the survival show had melted away, replaced by a deep, quiet bond.
"In a few weeks," Gun-woo said, staring into the flames, "the final rankings will be locked in. Only nine of us will debut."
The mood shifted slightly, the reality of the industry returning.
"Whoever makes it," Min-soo said, looking around the circle, "we promise to keep this vibe. No corporate suits telling us how to be 'marketable.' We do it the Kang-joon way."
"The 'Kang-joon way' involves a lot of spreadsheets and beet salads," Kang-joon noted, though he was smiling. He leaned back against a log, looking up at the stars. "But Min-soo is right. The Consortium failed because they underestimated the value of a unified unit. As long as we control the narrative, we control the future."
He pulled out the Hourglass phone one last time. He sent a simple message to Han Min-seo: [The assets are stable. Proceed with the Independent Label registration.]
He wasn't just joining an agency anymore. He was helping build one that wouldn't kill its idols for a profit margin.
"Hyung," Jae-hyun whispered, leaning his head on Kang-joon's shoulder, tired from the day's swimming. "Are we going to be the best group in the world?"
Kang-joon looked at the "Puppy" of the group, then at the "Center" Min-soo, the "Visual" Hyun Woo, and the "Poet" Seo Won. He saw the talent, the grit, and the loyalty that he had spent ninety-seven lives searching for.
"The probability," Kang-joon said, his voice soft and certain, "is 100%."
The week of healing passed in a blur of sun, sand, and surprisingly good food (most of it "Professor-approved" for nutritional value). As they boarded the bus to return to Seoul for the Grand Finale, the atmosphere was different. They weren't trainees anymore. They were a team.
As the bus pulled away from the coast, a new notification appeared on Kang-joon's screen.
[System Notification: The Final Arc: 'The Birth of a Legend' has begun.]
[Target: Secure the #1 Debut Spot and establish 'Creative Sovereignty'.]
[Current Survival Probability: 99.9%.]
Kang-joon closed the screen. He didn't need the System to tell him the odds. He had already written the script.