Grab the Manual and Debut!-Chapter 43: ✦Counter Attack✦

The van door slammed shut with a metallic finality, cutting off the rhythmic chanting of the crowd in Myeong-dong. Inside, the air conditioning hummed, but it couldn’t cool the heated atmosphere. The manager, a man whose career was currently tied to the stability of a digital graph, was breathing so hard his shoulders hit the back of the seat with every gasp. He didn’t look at Kang Joon. He was staring at his tablet, where the Starline Entertainment stock price was beginning to dip in response to the chaos.

Kang Joon leaned back, his eyes closed. To the others in the van—Gun-woo, Jae-hyun, and the silent, terrified staff—he looked like he was mourning his career. In reality, his mind was a high-speed processor, navigating the blue-tinted interface of the System that flickered behind his eyelids.

[System Notification: ’The Lucky Plan’ has been forcefully triggered!]

[Condition Met: Publicly challenged the ’Market Creator’ while maintaining a ’High-Risk’ Rank 1 position.]

[Current Luck Stat: 81 (Buff: ’Voice of the People’)]

[Calculating potential trajectories... 14% chance of immediate termination. 86% chance of ’Strategic Rebranding’.]

"You’re insane," the manager finally whispered, his voice cracking. "You didn’t just challenge the lineup, Kang Joon. You accused the agency of market manipulation on a live broadcast. Do you have any idea what the legal department is doing right now? They’re drafting your termination papers before we even hit the Han River bridge."

"They won’t send them," Kang Joon said, his eyes still closed. "If they terminate the Rank 1 trainee for ’telling the truth’ right after the fans invested millions into the app, the ’Star-Trade’ platform will be flagged for fraud by the Financial Supervisory Service. Starline’s entire quarterly revenue depends on that app. They can’t fire me. They have to fix me."

The manager fell silent. He knew Kang Joon was right. In the world of corporate K-pop, profit was the only moral compass.

[New Skill Unlocked: ’Sincere Insight’ (Passive)]

[Effect: Allows the user to perceive the ’Hidden Intent’ behind corporate directives and detect ’faked’ environmental triggers.]

As the van pulled into the Starline underground garage, there were no cameras. No fans. Just a group of black-suited security guards waiting to escort them. They weren’t being taken to the dorm. They were being led to the 7th floor—the PR and Strategy Department.

The Strategy of "Self-Reflection"

The meeting room was cold, smelling of stale coffee and expensive cologne. PD Na sat at the head of the table, her laptop open. She didn’t look angry; she looked like a surgeon about to perform a delicate operation on a patient she disliked.

"The Myeong-dong incident has created a ’Transparency Crisis’," PD Na began, tapping a key. A graph appeared on the wall. "Your stock, Kang Joon, should have crashed. Instead, it’s ’mooning’ because of speculative buyers who think you’re a rebel hero. But the ’investors’ who want a stable, clean idol group are selling. We are losing the core demographic."

"So, what’s the move?" Kang Joon asked, his voice steady.

"We cannot have you on the brand shoots for ’Cloud-9’ tomorrow. It’s too risky," she said. "However, if we hide you, it proves you were right about the rigging. So, you will undergo ’Voluntary Self-Reflection through Service’. You are being sent to the Ilsan Training Branch."

Jae-hyun, who had been allowed to stay in the room as the Rank 2 trainee, gasped. "The Ilsan Branch? That’s where the ’F-Class’ kids go. The building is practically a ruin."

"Exactly," PD Na said. "Kang Joon will act as a ’Equipment Assistant’ and ’Trainee Mentor’ for the juniors. He will work from 5 AM to 11 PM. No makeup. No styling. No script. We will livestream his ’labor’ on a dedicated 24-hour channel. We want the fans to see the ’Arrogant Architect’ humbled by the reality of the industry."

[System: ’Sincere Insight’ Activated!]

[Intent Detected: They want to break your physical health and record you looking ’ugly’ or ’exhausted’ to kill your visual appeal.]

[Luck Stat Check: Success!]

[The Ilsan Branch contains a ’Hidden Variable’ that will trigger Step 1 of ’The Lucky Plan’.]

"I’ll do it," Kang Joon said. "But on one condition. The livestream must be completely unedited. No ’Devil’s Editing’ from the control room. A raw, wide-angle feed."

PD Na smirked. "Fine. If you want the world to see you sweating and cleaning floors, be my guest."

The Ilsan Branch: The Ground Floor

The Ilsan Training Branch was a grey, concrete slab of a building that looked more like a warehouse than an idol academy. It was where Starline sent the trainees they were planning to cut—the ones whose "Stock" hadn’t even been listed yet.

Kang Joon arrived at 5:00 AM. The "Life Vlog" camera was already mounted on the wall of the main practice room, its blue light indicating a live connection to the Star-Trade app.

He didn’t look at the camera. He changed into a standard-issue grey tracksuit and picked up a mop. For the next four hours, he moved with the precision he had learned in his 32nd life as a Zen monk. He didn’t huff. He didn’t sigh. He cleaned the mirrors until they gleamed, his movements rhythmic and hypnotic.

On the Star-Trade app, the comment section was initially toxic, but as the hours passed, the tone began to shift.

*– [Idol_Analyst]: Wait, look at his form. He’s not ’pretending’ to clean. He’s actually doing a thorough job.

*– [Market_Watcher]: He’s been mopping for three hours without a break. Most idols would have complained to the staff by now.

– [Joon_Support]: Is it just me, or does he look even better without makeup? The ’Raw’ look is kind of hitting different.

At 10:00 AM, the junior trainees arrived. These were kids, aged 13 to 16, who looked at Kang Joon like he was a god who had fallen from Olympus. They were terrified to speak to him.

"You," Kang Joon said, pointing to a small boy named Min-ho who was struggling with the basic isolation movements. "Your center of gravity is too high. You’re trying to move your shoulders before your hips are locked."

Min-ho froze. "I... I’m sorry, Kang Joon-ssi!"

"Don’t be sorry. Be efficient," Kang Joon said. He set the mop aside and walked to the center of the room. He spent the next two hours breaking down the choreography for the kids. He didn’t do it with the "Tyrant" energy the show had edited; he did it with the patience of a professor.

[System: ’The Lucky Plan’ Step 1 — ’The Mentor’s Seed’ has been planted.]

[Luck Stat Update: 85]

While he was teaching, Min-ho leaned in close to adjust his shoelace. "Hyung," the boy whispered, his voice so low the wall-mics couldn’t catch it. "The man who keeps coming to the Director’s office... the one from the news? He’s not a victim. He’s the uncle of one of the ’C-Class’ trainees. I saw the Director giving him an envelope yesterday."

Kang Joon’s heart skipped a beat, but his face remained a mask of calm. This was the "Hidden Variable." The hit-and-run victim wasn’t just a random person; he was an internal plant used by Starline to keep a "leash" on troublesome trainees.

The Digital Counter-Strike

Back at the main Starline dorms, Gun-woo and Jae-hyun were watching the Ilsan livestream on their phones. They weren’t just watching; they were coordinating.

"Did you hear that?" Jae-hyun asked, zooming in on the feed. "The kid whispered something to Joon. Look at Joon’s face. He just changed his ’Analysis Mode’ on."

"We need to get to that kid," Gun-woo said. "If the ’victim’ is a relative of a trainee, his ’hush money’ is probably being funneled through the trainee’s contract or a ’scholarship’ fund. That’s a paper trail."

Using the "unrestricted" phones they were allowed for the "Vlog" period, they reached out to the one person who could bypass Starline’s firewalls: Ji-hye (LawFan_99).

In less than two hours, the "Investor Union" on the Star-Trade app received a massive data dump. It wasn’t "rumors." It was a leaked spreadsheet from the Ilsan Branch’s "Emergency Support Fund." It showed a monthly payment to a man named Choi Sang-hoon—the "victim"—listed as a "Talent Scouting Fee."

The "Short Squeeze" began.

The anti-fans who had been "shorting" Kang Joon’s stock (betting on his delisting) suddenly saw the price start to climb. If the scandal was fake, Kang Joon wasn’t just Rank 1; he was the biggest "Buy" in the history of the app.

The Boardroom Panic

At 8:00 PM, Kang Joon was still at the Ilsan Branch, helping the janitorial staff move heavy stage risers. He was drenched in sweat, his hair clinging to his forehead, his hands red from the cold water.

[System: ’Humanity Metric’ at 62%!]

[Effect: ’Sincerity Aura’ is now active. Fans can ’feel’ your exhaustion and dedication.]

The livestream viewership hit 3 million. It was more than the actual "Road to Starlight" episodes. People were watching a Rank 1 idol clean a basement, and they were captivated.

Suddenly, a black sedan pulled up to the Ilsan Branch. It wasn’t the manager. It was the CEO’s personal secretary.

"Lee Kang Joon-ssi," the secretary said, stepping into the dusty practice room. "The ’Reflection’ period is over. The Board of Directors has requested your immediate presence at the penthouse."

"I’m not finished with the equipment manifest," Kang Joon said, not looking up from the flight case he was wiping.

"The manifest doesn’t matter anymore," the secretary hissed. "The app is crashing. Not because of you, but because the fans are trying to ’Buy’ your stock in such high volumes that the servers are melting. And they’re demanding the resignation of PD Na."

Kang Joon stood up. He looked at the camera on the wall—the one that had been documenting his "humiliation" for fifteen hours. He walked over to it, his face filling the screen.

He didn’t say a word. He just tapped the lens twice, a silent signal to the "Investors" that he knew they were winning.

The Power Shift

When Kang Joon walked into the Starline Boardroom an hour later, he didn’t look like a trainee. He was covered in dust, his tracksuit was stained, and he smelled of floor wax. But as he sat down at the mahogany table across from the wealthiest men in the agency, he was the one who held the power.

The CEO, a man who rarely appeared on camera, pushed a tablet across the table.

"The ’Star-Trade’ app is a tool for fan engagement," the CEO said, his voice smooth but dangerous. "But it seems the fans have become... over-zealous. They’ve discovered certain ’administrative inconsistencies’ regarding our Ilsan Branch. We’ve decided to terminate Choi Sang-hoon’s ’Scouting’ contract immediately. The hit-and-run story will be retracted as a ’misunderstanding of the facts’."

"And PD Na?" Kang Joon asked.

"She is being ’reassigned’ to a non-broadcast role," the CEO replied. "We need to stabilize the market. The ’staryu’ group name is being scrapped. We need a new name. A name that represents the ’Unbreakable’ nature of this lineup."

[System Notification: ’The Lucky Plan’ Step 2 — Complete!]

[Reward: ’Group Leadership Authority’ has been granted by the Board.]

[Rank 1 Stock Value: $18.50 (All-Time High)]

"I have a name," Kang Joon said, looking the CEO in the eye. "But before that, we’re going to discuss the ’Liquid Lineup’ contracts. From now on, the Top 5 aren’t ’Assets.’ We’re ’Partners.’ If anyone is traded or delisted, the fans get a 100% refund of their investment, paid for by the agency."

The Board members looked at each other in shock. It was a poison pill. It meant Starline could never manipulate the lineup again without risking bankruptcy.

"You’re asking us to give up control," one director spat.

"I’m asking you to protect your investment," Kang Joon countered. "Because right now, I’m the only thing keeping your stock price from hitting zero."

The CEO looked at the real-time ticker. He looked at the 4 million people still watching the "Reflection" feed, waiting for Kang Joon to reappear.

"Draft the new contracts," the CEO ordered.

The Return to the Dorm

At midnight, Kang Joon returned to the dorms. The fourteen trainees were all awake, gathered in the living room. When the door opened, the silence was absolute.

Gun-woo stood up first. He walked over and looked at Kang Joon—the dust, the sweat, the exhaustion.

"Did we win?" Gun-woo asked.

Kang Joon looked at the scoreboard in the lobby. His name was at the top, glowing in a brilliant, solid gold. Beside him, Gun-woo, Jae-hyun, Han-bin, and Doh-yun were locked in the Top 5.