Grab the Manual and Debut!-Chapter 42: ✦Billboard✦

The silence in the van was different from the silence in the dorm. In the dorm, the air was thick with the hum of surveillance and the whispered calculations of fourteen boys trying to survive a digital massacre. In the van, the silence was sterile, punctuated only by the rhythmic clicking of the manager’s tablet and the muffled roar of Seoul’s morning traffic. Gun-woo sat beside Kang Joon, his knuckles bruised and his eyes fixed on the floor. He hadn’t spoken since the announcement in the lobby. The "Liquid Lineup" wasn’t just a concept anymore; it was a physical shift in the gravity of the room.

The manager didn’t look back at them as he spoke. "We’re heading to Myeong-dong. Starline has invested a significant portion of the ’Star-Trade’ marketing budget into the ’Starlight Horizon’ 3D billboard. It’s the largest of its kind in Asia. The company wants to see your ’organic’ reactions to the first official Visual Profile reveal. Remember," he paused, his eyes meeting Kang Joon’s in the rearview mirror, "the cameras are already rolling from the hidden dash-cams. Every sigh, every look of jealousy—it all feeds the algorithm. If you want your stock to stop bleeding, act like you’re happy for the group, regardless of who is in it."

Kang Joon pulled out his phone. He didn’t check the Nutube comments this time. He went straight to a news portal. The "Gun-woo Assault" story was already the second most-read article. The headline was a masterpiece of clickbait: [Violence in the Basement: Is the ’Nation’s Son’ Unit Imploding?] The article featured a blurry photo of Gun-woo’s scuffle with the other trainee, framed in a way that made Gun-woo look like the sole aggressor. Beside it was a small, high-definition photo of Min-soo, looking "distressed" by the tension.

"They’re not just selling us," Kang Joon thought, his fingers tightening around the edge of his phone. "They’re selling the conflict."

As the van pulled into the heart of Myeong-dong, the sheer scale of the event became clear. Despite the early hour, the streets were packed. Hundreds of fans—and many more "investors"—were gathered with their phones out, tracking the live "Star-Trade" ticker on their screens. There were posters everywhere, but they weren’t the usual fan-made birthday ads. They were "Buy" and "Sell" signals, printed on cardboard by organized fan-unions.

The fourteen trainees were led out of the vans into a cordoned-off VIP area directly across from the massive L-shaped LED screen that wrapped around the corner of a luxury department store. The nine "outsider" trainees were grouped together, looking eager and nervous. The core "staryu" members—Jae-hyun, Han-bin, Doh-yun, and Gun-woo—stood around Kang Joon, forming a tight, defensive circle.

Min-soo was already there, having arrived in a separate "A-List" van. He was dressed in a pristine white coat, his hair styled to look effortlessly soft. When he saw the group, he didn’t gloat. He walked over with a concerned expression that Kang Joon knew was aimed directly at the nearest camera crane.

"Joon-ah," Min-soo said, his voice loud enough for the mics to catch. "Are you okay? I saw the news about the gate... and the livestream. I’ve been praying for your stock to stabilize."

"Praying doesn’t affect the market, Min-soo," Kang Joon replied, his voice flat. "But a center position in a brand shoot does."

Min-soo’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes flashed with a cold, competitive light. "We all have to follow the numbers. It’s not personal. It’s just what the fans want."

Suddenly, the ambient music playing through the street speakers cut out. A deep, cinematic bass thrummed through the pavement, vibrating in Kang Joon’s chest. The massive 3D screen above them flickered to life. The "Star-Trade" logo—a stylized, golden bar graph—spun into view, seemingly popping out of the building toward the crowd.

"Attention Investors!" a voice boomed over the speakers. "The first Liquid Lineup Visual Profile is now live. Based on the last 24 hours of market activity, we present the face of the New Starlight."

The screen exploded into a kaleidoscope of neon blue and silver. The 3D effect was staggering. A virtual hand reached out from the screen, ’picking’ the top-ranked trainees and placing them into a digital lineup.

"Rank 5," the voice announced. A portrait of Han-eol appeared. He looked soft, vulnerable, and "sincere"—the perfect result of the "Room of Sincerity" edit.

"Rank 4," "Rank 3," "Rank 2." Doh-yun, Gun-woo, and Jae-hyun appeared in succession. Gun-woo’s portrait was darkened, a "Warning" icon hovering near his name due to the assault scandal, but his vocal talent had kept his "investors" from completely abandoning him. Jae-hyun looked like he was about to cry on the screen, his "Brotherhood" narrative still keeping him afloat.

Then, the screen paused. The tension in the crowd was a physical thing.

"And the Rank 1... The Face of the Group... The Market Leader..."

The screen didn’t show Kang Joon. It didn’t even show his silhouette. Instead, the 3D graphics rendered a massive, golden crown that settled onto the head of a towering, ultra-vibrant portrait of Min-soo.

Min-soo’s image was rendered in breathtaking detail, appearing to step out from the billboard and look down at the crowd. He looked like a god. Beneath him, the "Top 5" were grouped together in a sleek, "Professional Visual Profile."

Kang Joon looked for his own face. He found it at the very bottom of the screen, in a "Sub-List" of "Available Assets." His photo was small, desaturated—literally greyed out as if he were a character that hadn’t been unlocked yet. Beside his name, a flickering red text read: [UNDER REVIEW: DELISTING IMMINENT].

The crowd erupted. Half were cheering for Min-soo, but the other half—the "Short Sellers" and the anti-fans—started chanting, "Delist! Delist! Delist!"

The sound was deafening. It was the sound of thousands of people celebrating the destruction of a human being’s dream for the sake of their "investments." Kang Joon felt a wave of nausea, but he forced his feet to stay planted. He didn’t look at the screen. He looked at the fans. He saw a young girl, no older than fifteen, screaming "Snake!" at him while holding a smartphone that showed she had just sold 50 shares of his stock.

"This is it," Kang Joon thought. "The ’Liquid Lineup’ isn’t about talent. It’s a popularity contest where the losers are erased in real-time."

Min-soo turned to the cameras, his eyes welling with "grateful" tears. "I’ll work hard to lead the group," he promised the crowd. "Thank you for believing in me."

The staff members began to usher the "Top 5" toward the center of the cordoned area for a public photo op. Kang Joon and the other eight trainees were pushed toward the back, toward the vans. They were "excess inventory" now.

"Wait," Kang Joon said, his voice cutting through the manager’s attempt to move him.

He didn’t move toward the vans. He walked toward the center, toward the line where the "Top 5" were posing. The cameras swiveled toward him instantly. This was the "Public Confrontation" the producers had been salivating for.

"Kang Joon-ssi, please stay back," a security guard warned.

"I’m still a trainee," Kang Joon said, loud enough for the nearest fan-cams to pick up. "And I’m still on the ’Active’ list. Until that number hits zero, I have a right to be in the profile."

He walked right up to Min-soo. The height difference was negligible, but Kang Joon’s presence, honed by ninety-seven lives of command and survival, made Min-soo look small despite the golden crown on the screen above them.

"Congratulations on the Rank 1, Min-soo-ah," Kang Joon said. He didn’t sound angry. He sounded like a teacher correcting a student. "It’s a beautiful billboard. But you should tell the fans the truth about the ’Cloud-9’ shoot. You should tell them why the stylist was ’nervous’ to work with me."

The crowd went silent. Min-soo’s smile faltered. "Joon-ah, this isn’t the time—"

"It’s the perfect time," Kang Joon interrupted. He looked at the massive 3D screen, then back at the crowd. "The stylist wasn’t nervous because I was ’difficult.’ She was nervous because the brand was told by Starline management that I was already being replaced. The ’Devil’s Edit’ wasn’t an accident. It was a marketing strategy to drive Min-soo’s stock up and mine down."

"He’s lying!" someone shouted from the crowd. "He’s just bitter!"

"Check the time-stamps of the ’leaks’," Kang Joon shouted back, his voice echoing off the buildings of Myeong-dong. "They were uploaded from the same IP address as the Star-Trade app’s official admin panel. This isn’t a fan-driven market. It’s a rigged game!"

The manager panicked. "Get him out of here! Cut the audio! Shut it down!"

The security guards moved in, grabbing Kang Joon’s arms. But the damage was done. Thousands of fans were already typing. The "Rigged Game" narrative was the one thing more viral than a "Bully" narrative.

As he was being dragged toward the van, Kang Joon caught sight of his phone.

[MARKET ALERT: STAR-TRADE APP SYSTEM ERROR. UNUSUAL VOLATILITY DETECTED.]

[KANG JOON STOCK: $5.01... $5.50... $6.20... $7.00]

The "investors" weren’t buying him because they loved him. They were buying him because they loved a scandal involving a "Rigged System." He was a "Rebel Stock" now.

He was shoved into the van, the door slamming shut. Gun-woo and the others were already inside, looking at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"You just declared war on the agency, Joon," Gun-woo whispered.

"The agency declared war on us the moment they put a dollar sign on our faces," Kang Joon said, leaning back against the seat and closing his eyes.

He felt the ’Humanity Metric’ in his mind. 55%. It was rising. For the first time, he hadn’t used a tactic to win. He had used the truth to survive.

But as the van sped away from Myeong-dong, his phone buzzed. A message from User_997.

[User_997]: "A bold move. You’ve turned the ’Market’ into a ’Movement.’ But movements are messy, Kang Joon. And movements need martyrs. The hit-and-run victim’s interview airs in two hours. He has the bank statements. Let’s see how ’Rebel’ your stock stays when the fans see the price of your silence."