Chapter 182. Pang Tong’s Stratagem
About two weeks had passed since Hee-jae joined the planning meetings.
Secretary Han of the Culture and Arts Center had been thoroughly torn apart by Yoon Jin-seo.
He had also earned the distinction of becoming the legendary nuisance who caused a tax investigation into the entirety of The Giving Tree.
Hee-jae was doing well.
There were still years to go before 2028, and since he'd spent his days drifting between shared performance venues, I'd assumed he'd never actually planned a stage before.
I was wrong.
As the leader of Castle Light, he'd constantly experimented with ways to make their tiny venue performances feel as distinctive as possible.
And the moment he learned that he'd be handling actual planning, he immediately threw himself into it, saying that a band's stage performance came from imagination and experience.
The charity concert venue was set as Jamsil Olympic Stadium.
It cost quite a lot.
Still, since I intended to make this concert as impressive as possible and use it to launch the fundraising campaign, I decided to think of it as an initial investment.
At first, Hee-jae had insisted that he wanted to walk a single path as a musician.
But once he actually saw Jamsil Stadium, he excitedly ran around checking every kind of special-effects system they had.
I was working hard too.
But the most passionate person here was him.
Preparation was going smoothly and everyone's motivation was high.
But ticket sales still hadn't opened.
Because the most important thing, the lineup, hadn't been finalized.
"We can use all of this? This thing that shoots flames, we can really use it however we want?"
"For environmental reasons, please limit it to once per team..."
Hee-jae and the Jamsil Stadium manager were having an intense discussion about stage equipment and maximum load limits.
I quietly approached him.
"Did you see the news?"
"What? What news?"
"It was all over the articles today. The Giving Tree shut down its Culture and Arts Center."
He'd probably been following the news about the Culture and Arts Center for days.
Now that its closure had been confirmed, the semi-basement venue would disappear too.
Which was even more reason for me to hurry up and secure proper shared practice rooms.
Hee-jae and the Castle Light members had probably endured all kinds of hardship because they genuinely believed in the fundraising work they were doing.
But now the truth was out.
All the tickets Hee-jae had sold while going hungry had apparently gone toward buying Secretary Han drinks and clothes.
He had every reason to feel disgusted and empty.
"Ah... The Giving Tree."
"Try not to dwell on it too much. I just thought it might've been a place with a lot of memories for you."
Hee-jae took a deep breath.
Then he said,
"Whew. I thought I'd be upset too, but I'm really not. I've already forgotten what it was like being a tadpole. Money really is great! We get to perform at places like this now. When it's our turn, we're gonna put one insanely badass skull on a screen as big as this entire stadium and absolutely destroy the place with some hardcore noise pop."
You're a sentimental rock band.
Apparently, he didn't want to talk about depressing things.
I should respect that.
That strategy was probably how he'd managed to survive years of being a broke band musician.
[CEO of The Giving Tree: “We painfully accept the mistakes of the Culture and Arts Center... We will never again hurt the hearts of our donors.”]
[Shared Venue Disappears, Hongdae Indie Bands Left With Nowhere to Go... What Happens Next?]
[Universe to Share Stage With Multiple Indie Bands Alongside Blue Moon]
[All Four Blue Moon Members Donate 100 Million Won Each! “We Always Live With Gratitude.”]
MVN president Jung Tae-jin sat in his office searching through articles related to Universe.
During his years running MVN, he'd carried out countless variety-show projects and broadcaster marketing campaigns.
But none had ever been as effective as Blue Moon.
The fact that he'd even given them programming slots exclusively for them said enough.
At the same time, Director Choi Gyu-sik was searching Universe on Nutube.
[Does Universe CEO Do Jun-hyeok Have Shamanic Powers? A Spirit Medium Reads His Fortune... Shocking Result!]
[13 Things You Didn't Know About Do Jun-hyeok]
[From Entertainment Companies to Charities: Why Every Company That Messed With Do Jun-hyeok Ended Up in Ruins?!]
[Do Jun-hyeok to Be Offered Minister of Culture Position? | 〈Ha Jong-gwon Asks and Answers (1-2)〉]
It was absolute chaos.
The media hadn't directly mentioned a connection between The Giving Tree and Do Jun-hyeok.
But everyone assumed Do Jun-hyeok had played some role in the shutdown of the Culture and Arts Center.
Since it had become such a major incident, public interest in Do Jun-hyeok himself was surging too.
Maybe not supernatural powers.
But he genuinely looked like someone who could see the future.
The moment he started planning an indie-band charity concert, The Giving Tree's Culture and Arts Center was shut down.
Didn't it look as if he'd known it would happen and prepared in advance?
It was also possible that he'd reported The Giving Tree's misconduct to prosecutors and set everything in motion himself.
It would make an excellent movie.
Supernatural foresight would work.
But didn't audiences also love stories about exposing corruption inside enormous organizations and bringing them down?
It could become a successful film.
Choi Gyu-sik felt like he should seriously develop the idea.
When he'd brought up the concept of a businessman who could see the future back at Cheonil Dyeing, Do Jun-hyeok hadn't exactly denied it either.
He could draft a synopsis first, then push hard for permission.
And if they said Do Jun-hyeok was the real-life inspiration, people would love that too.
[Is Do hyung secretly an NIS agent? LOL He was doing duo operations with Oh Soo during that Philippines factory thing too.]
One comment caught his eye.
Right.
The Philippines factory.
That had practically been a crime movie.
Wasn't it basically a live-action version of 〈Crime City〉?
"Mr. Hee-jae. We can't delay this anymore. We need to close applications and start finalizing the detailed stage plan."
Hee-jae had been summoned to Universe's conference room by CEO Do Jun-hyeok.
The performance date was approaching, so they needed to lock down the planning.
Things were getting urgent.
The date was close.
And more than sixty bands had applied.
"There are too many teams. What should we do? Extend the concert schedule? We can do that."
Do Jun-hyeok asked.
There really were too many teams.
No matter how clever they got, sixty groups couldn't possibly fit into a single day's performance lasting only a few hours.
"Yes. I think we'll need about three days."
"Three days?"
When Hee-jae suggested it, Director Kwon Dae-hun tilted his head from beside him.
"Shouldn't we extend it longer than three days? Even with three days, that's still around twenty teams per day. That's too many."
It was still a lot.
But they had no choice.
No matter how long they extended the event, it couldn't exceed three days.
Any longer than that, and the event would start dragging.
"Hey. Planner Seong Hee-jae obviously said three days because he has a reason. Three days must be the limit."
Jun-hyeok responded.
Exactly.
"Why? You extended Blue Moon's solo concert to five days last time."
Dae-hun asked again.
But a solo concert and a general event were completely different.
A solo concert was something fans of one artist attended because they loved that artist.
They could enjoy it for several days.
This charity event wasn't like that.
The audience would have to spend hours listening to songs they'd never heard before and deciding whether each one suited their tastes.
Even if the physical exhaustion was the same, they'd become mentally tired much faster.
"You frustrating bastard. You think a solo concert and this event are the same thing? We invited our fans to that one. Of course those people could handle five days."
Once again, Jun-hyeok scolded Dae-hun as though speaking for Hee-jae.
...Exactly.
"Man, you're really riding me hard. I'm seriously getting emotional over here..."
Dae-hun pretended to cry.
There were other reasons too.
For one, if a concert became longer while the ticket price stayed the same, audience engagement tended to drop.
Usually, when someone bought one ticket, they assumed it covered one day's performance.
People slept at night, after all.
That was why even Blue Moon's solo concert had sold separate tickets for each day.
But this charity event planned to sell tickets almost like donations.
One ticket would let the buyer enter freely throughout all three days and use general seating.
The ticket already felt like a buy one, get two free deal.
If they turned that into buy one, get three free or buy one, get four free...
The value for money would become absurdly high.
Then audiences might start perceiving the charity event as a cheap concert filled with "unknown nobodies."
The increased value would paradoxically reduce interest.
"Imagine selling four or five days for the same price. Doesn't it feel ridiculously cheap? Are we going to sell separate tickets every day? Or raise the ticket price? Bringing in lots of people matters, but keeping the people who do come interested matters too."
"A-All right. I understand. I really understand! Please stop...!"
What was this?
Could Jun-hyeok read Hee-jae's mind?
Once again, Jun-hyeok explained Hee-jae's exact thoughts to Dae-hun.
Nutube videos said Do Jun-hyeok had some kind of supernatural intuition.
Was that actually true?
It was strange that Jun-hyeok could verbalize Hee-jae's thoughts so perfectly.
But more than being strange, it was reassuring.
Do Jun-hyeok was an untouchably successful planner.
And his thinking matched Hee-jae's own.
Hee-jae gained confidence and added another point.
"There's a reason I'm specifically saying three days. First, major idols generally perform for a maximum of around three days, so audiences are already accustomed to that level of stamina. And if we extend it all the way to five days, it fills almost an entire week, which makes the event feel too relaxed. People start thinking, 'If I don't go today, I can go tomorrow. Or the day after.' Then they keep postponing it and eventually miss the final performance entirely."
"Oh... Now that you explain it, that makes sense."
Dae-hun listened carefully and nodded.
"And four days is an even number, so it somehow doesn't feel like one complete performance. The other singers are already going to be compared heavily with Blue Moon. If we make it four days, doesn't it feel like people will mentally divide it into the first two days and the last two days? That's how we normally think about arithmetic, right? Four is two plus two. And two times two."
"I-Is that so?"
This time Dae-hun tilted his head.
"That sounds a little like fake numerology..."
"Why do you think that? Is that really why a four-day concert would be bad?"
Even Jun-hyeok, who had been defending Hee-jae until now, threw him an unexpected question.
Honestly, Hee-jae couldn't explain it scientifically.
It was simply what his instincts told him.
There had to be some reason people called three a stable number.
"It's difficult to explain properly... but honestly, I'm pretty confident. I think that's exactly what would happen. If Blue Moon performs on the first day, the buzz will carry into the second day, but by the third, attendance will drop sharply."
But if they made it a three-day event, then the entire event would still be perceived as one concert featuring Blue Moon.
Place Blue Moon on the first day, and every band could benefit from their buzz.
After Hee-jae finished explaining, Jun-hyeok rubbed his fingers together and fell into thought.
"There's logic to that."
Jun-hyeok said.
"I kind of want to test it. I really think you're right. If Blue Moon performs on day one of a four-day event, day three and four probably collapse. If they perform on day two, then day one becomes an opening act. Wow, this really does make sense. I think you're right, Mr. Hee-jae."
"Thank you."
"Still, this isn't just our concert. The other bands are looking forward to this stage too, so we shouldn't experiment with them. We'll go with three days like you said. And from now on, when it comes to stage planning, let's follow whatever Mr. Hee-jae says. You're in overall charge of planning!"
Hee-jae's eyes widened at Jun-hyeok's declaration.
From Universe's perspective, wasn't Hee-jae a complete outsider?
Even if this was a charity event, they were suddenly handing him the title of overall planner.
And he had no professional experience.
"By overall planning, you mean giving him full authority over stage production, right?"
Jin-hee asked.
"Yes. The amateurs should take a step back. What do we know about indie stages?"
"Understood. I'll organize the materials."
But Blue Moon's members, Dae-hun, and Team Leader Jin-hee didn't seem particularly concerned.
Apparently, this sort of thing happened all the time here.
If someone looked capable, Universe simply handed them full authority and waited for results.
Hee-jae had never imagined a company could be this unconventional.
Little by little, he found himself becoming fascinated by the way they thought.
