Yoo-jin spent the next three hours on his phone, a cold knot of dread tightening in his stomach with every failed call. He paced the hallway outside the A&R department like a caged animal.
He called every independent recording studio he knew, every sound engineer he'd ever bought a coffee for. The answer was always the same, a polite but firm rejection.
"Sorry, Yoo-jin-ssi, we're fully booked for the next month. Just terrible timing."
"Ah, this is for a Starforce project? We can't get involved in their internal politics. My apologies."
The third call was the one that made his blood run cold. "The name Choi Mina? Yeah, a memo came down this morning. I've been told specifically not to work with her."
Desperation began to set in. The clock was ticking. They had less than two weeks, and Starforce's influence was a long, suffocating shadow. They had been effectively blacklisted before they even started. Mina and Eun-bi stood by the window, watching him, their initial fire dimming with each unanswered call.
They had a legendary singer and a masterpiece song, but they were trapped in a soundproof room with no way to record.
Out of options, Yoo-jin collapsed onto a bench and scrolled through his old personal contact list. It was a graveyard of failed producers, forgotten friends, and people who had quit the industry in disgust. It was a list of ghosts.
He closed his eyes and used his system, not to find talent, but to find a lifeline. He scanned the names, the blue screens flashing past. [D-Rank], [F-Rank], [Quit Industry - High Burnout]. It was hopeless.
Then, one name glowed with a faint, unexpected light.
[Name: Kang Min-hyuk]
[Occupation: Cafe Owner (Formerly A-Rank Sound Engineer)]
[Status: Disillusioned with the industry. Possesses a fully-equipped, private-use recording studio in his basement.]
Yoo-jin's eyes snapped open. Kang Min-hyuk. 'Midas Mike'. A legendary sound engineer from a decade ago, famous for his 'golden ears'. He'd quit at the height of his career, claiming the industry had lost its soul. No one had heard from him since.
They found his cafe in a quiet, forgotten neighborhood, tucked between a laundromat and a dusty bookstore. It was a small, rundown place that smelled of dark-roast coffee and cynicism.
Behind the counter was a man with tired eyes, messy hair, and a gruff demeanor. It was him. Kang Min-hyuk.
He recognized Yoo-jin from his rookie days. He put down the rag he was using to wipe the counter and shook his head before Yoo-jin could even speak.
"Don't even ask, kid. I'm out. That world is a meat grinder, and I'm not sticking my hand back in."
Yoo-jin knew that begging or offering money wouldn't work on a man like this. He had to speak the only language Min-hyuk still respected: the language of pure, unfiltered talent.
He looked over at Mina, who was hovering nervously by the door. He gave her a slight, firm nod.
"Mina," he said, his voice clear in the quiet cafe. "Sing for him. The chorus of 'Echo'."
For a moment, Mina froze. Sing? Here? Now? But she saw the desperation in Yoo-jin's eyes. She saw the composer, Eun-bi, looking at her with quiet encouragement. She took a shaky breath, closed her eyes, and let the music she now held in her heart pour out.
In the empty cafe, with only the low hum of the espresso machine for accompaniment, she sang. No microphone, no background music. Just her raw, heartbreakingly clear voice.
The sound filled the small space, pure and perfect.
Kang Min-hyuk, who had turned his back to them, stopped wiping the counter. His hands went still.
Slowly, reluctantly, he turned around. His cynical mask was cracking, his tired eyes wide with a surprise he couldn't hide. He wasn't looking at a pre-packaged idol trainee. He was hearing the kind of raw, uncut magic that had made him fall in love with music in the first place, all those years ago.
The single, dusty spotlight over the cafe's tiny, unused stage area happened to be shining right where Mina stood, illuminating her in a way that felt fated and intimate.
The last note of the chorus faded, leaving a ringing silence in its wake.
Min-hyuk let out a long, heavy sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. A reluctant, tired smile played on his lips. "Damn it, kid," he muttered, looking at Yoo-jin.
"Fine. But if we're going to do this, we do it right. No auto-tune, no digital tricks, no corporate garbage. My studio. My rules."
The next ten days were a blur.
They lived in Kang Min-hyuk's basement. It wasn't just a studio; it was a soundproof fortress, a musician's paradise filled with vintage equipment and an obsessive love for pure sound. It was their secret bunker.
Eun-bi and Min-hyuk, two disillusioned geniuses, immediately started arguing passionately over the arrangement, their creative friction producing sparks of brilliance. Mina sang the same line a hundred times, a thousand times, until every single note was imbued with perfect, honest emotion. Yoo-jin coordinated everything, running on coffee and instant noodles, sleeping for two hours a night on the studio couch.
They were exhausted. They were stressed. But they were a real team, forging a masterpiece in the dark, far from the judging eyes of Starforce.
Finally, it was the night before the Seoul Music Showcase. The final mix of "Echo" was done. It was more than a song. It was a confession, a prayer, a piece of someone's soul. It was perfect.
Mina was nervous, but she was a different person from the girl who had frozen in the practice room. There was a quiet strength in her eyes. There was a fragile, defiant hope in the air. They were ready.
Yoo-jin's phone buzzed on the console, a sharp, intrusive sound. He picked it up.
It was a message from a number he now recognized instantly as Lee Hana's. It contained a single screenshot. It was a news article draft from 'Idol Insider', a notorious gossip site known for destroying careers.
[Headline: The Truth Behind the "Masked Singer": Starforce Trainee Choi Mina's History of Mental Instability and Past Disciplinary Issues Revealed.]
Below the screenshot was a simple, chilling message.
Are you ready for tomorrow? :)
The phone clattered from Yoo-jin's numb fingers, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the silent studio. Hana wasn't just going to let them fail on stage.
She was planning to destroy Mina completely the moment she stepped into the spotlight.