Grab the Manual and Debut!-Chapter 35: ✦Shield & Star✦

The morning sun bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Starline practice room, casting long, golden rectangles across the scuffed linoleum. The air smelled of ozone, expensive fabric softener, and the metallic tang of sweat. In the center of the room, the five members of staryu were frozen in the final pose of ’Shiny Day’.

Kang-joon was at the front, one knee bent, his head tilted at a slight angle that caught the light just right. His oversized cream hoodie made him look soft, almost ethereal. To his left, Gun-woo was struggling with a "V" sign held over his eye. He looked like a man trying to solve a complex equation while being tickled.

"Okay, break for ten," PD Na’s voice crackled over the intercom. She sounded pleased—rare for her at 7:00 AM. "Gun-woo, your ’Loverboy’ aura is up to about sixty percent. Let’s try to hit eighty by the afternoon run-through."

Gun-woo collapsed into a heap, groaning. "Sixty percent? I feel like I’ve surrendered my entire soul to the Goddess of Sparkles, and I’m only at sixty?"

"It’s the eyebrows," Han-bin said, leaning over to poke Gun-woo’s forehead. The rapper was wearing his yellow bucket hat tilted back, looking like a carefree skater. "You keep knitting them together like you’re about to start a cage fight. Relax. Think about... I don’t know, kittens? Warm bread?"

"I think about the fact that I’m wearing star-shaped stickers on my neck," Gun-woo muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

Kang-joon walked over to the corner, picking up a water bottle. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to. The "Architect" who used to command the room with cold logic had stepped back, allowing a quieter, more observant version of himself to take the lead. He was the gravity of the group—the silent center around which the others orbited.

Suddenly, a sharp, cold tingle raced down Kang-joon’s spine. It felt like a drop of ice water sliding between his shoulder blades.

[System Notification: Guardian’s Intuition Activated]

[Threat Level: Moderate]

[Target: Member ’Gun-woo’]

[Nature: Character Assassination / Narrative Sabotage]

Kang-joon’s hand tightened around the water bottle. He didn’t gasp; he didn’t even flinch. He just slowly turned his gaze toward the door where a group of staff members were whispering, huddled around a tablet.

"What is it, Hyung?" Jae-hyun asked, noticing the shift in Kang-joon’s energy. The youngest was sensitive to Kang-joon’s moods, like a bird sensing a change in the wind.

"Nothing," Kang-joon said, his voice calm and level. "Just a thought. Stay here and practice the bridge with Han-bin. I need to talk to the stylists about the hoodie strings."

He walked toward the staff. As he approached, the whispers died down. One of the junior writers tried to hide the tablet behind her back.

"Is there a problem?" Kang-joon asked. He wasn’t being aggressive. He was being "The Reserved Son"—polite, soft-spoken, but with eyes that saw through everything.

"It’s nothing you need to worry about, Kang-joon-ssi," the writer said, her voice shaking slightly. "Just some... internet noise."

"If it involves my team, I worry about it," Kang-joon said. He reached out a hand, palm up. It was a silent command.

Reluctantly, she handed over the tablet.

It was a post on an anonymous "trainee tea" board. It featured a series of grainy, dark photos from four years ago. They showed a teenage Gun-woo, his face covered in blood, standing over a group of older boys in a dark alleyway in Incheon. The headline was sensationalist: [STARYU’S ’GENTLE GIANT’ OR INCHEON’S BRUTAL THUG? THE TRUTH ABOUT GUN-WOO’S DELINQUENT PAST.]

The post claimed Gun-woo had been part of a violent gang and had only joined the idol industry to scrub his record. It mentioned a "warehouse incident" where three people ended up in the hospital.

Kang-joon felt the familiar, bitter taste of the Consortium’s handiwork. It was a classic "Double-Tap." They had failed to break the group by targeting the orphan, so they were trying to break the group by targeting the "thug."

He looked back at Gun-woo, who was currently laughing as Jae-hyun tried to teach him a TikTok dance. Gun-woo looked so bright, so full of the joy he had fought a hundred years to find.

Not this time, Kang-joon thought.

He handed the tablet back. "Don’t show this to him yet. And tell PD Na I need ten minutes in the breakroom."

The breakroom was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator. Kang-joon sat on a plastic chair, staring at the floor. He didn’t pull out a whiteboard. He didn’t calculate percentages. He closed his eyes and summoned the Impression Roulette.

[Total Impressions: 12,800,000]

[Available Spins: 18]

Spin x1, he commanded.

The wheel whirred, glowing with a soft, digital light.

[Reward: Skill - ’Chronicle Retrieval: The Lost Witness’]

* Effect: Allows the user to find the digital footprint of a person who can verify the truth of a past event.

A name flashed in Kang-joon’s mind: Choi Min-ho.

Kang-joon opened his phone. He didn’t go to the police. He didn’t go to the CEO. He went to the one place where the truth actually mattered: the fans. He opened a private chat with LawFan_99.

[KJ]: Ji-hye-ssi. Are you there?

[LawFan_99]: Always. I saw the post about Gun-woo. I’m already digging, but the source is heavily encrypted. It’s the Consortium again, isn’t it?

[KJ]: Most likely. Look for a name: Choi Min-ho. He was fifteen in 2022. Incheon. The warehouse incident.

[LawFan_99]: Give me twenty minutes.

Kang-joon sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. He felt a presence at the door. He didn’t need to look to know who it was. The heavy, hesitant footsteps were unmistakable.

"You saw it, didn’t you?" Gun-woo asked.

He was standing in the doorway, the star-patch overalls looking suddenly heavy on his frame. His face was pale, the "Loverboy" glow replaced by the haunted look of ’G-Bolt.’

"I saw a fairy tale written by people who don’t know you," Kang-joon said, not moving.

"It’s not a fairy tale," Gun-woo said, his voice cracking. He walked in and sat opposite Kang-joon. "The photos are real. I was there. I did fight those guys. I did put them in the hospital."

He looked at his hands—the same hands that were currently learning to make heart gestures for a song about marshmallows.

"I told you I was a fraud, Joon-ah. I’m not ’staryu.’ I’m just a kid from the docks who knows how to hurt people."

"Tell me why you fought," Kang-joon said. He didn’t judge. He didn’t analyze. He just listened.

Gun-woo took a shaky breath. "There was a kid. Min-ho. He was a stutterer, real quiet. The older guys—the real delinquents—they used to trap him in the warehouse after school. They were... it wasn’t just bullying. They were going to do something terrible. I found them. I didn’t think. I just saw what they were doing and I snapped. I fought all four of them. I didn’t stop until they couldn’t get up."

Gun-woo looked up, his eyes swimming with tears. "The school didn’t care about the context. They just saw ’G-Bolt’ from the broken home beating up four honor students. I was suspended. My record was flagged. That’s why I hide it. Because nobody believes the thug is the one who was trying to help."

Kang-joon felt a surge of warmth in his chest. It wasn’t a system skill. It was just humanity—the 22% he had reclaimed. He reached across the table and placed his hand over Gun-woo’s scarred knuckles.

"I believe you," Kang-joon said. "And more importantly, I know how to make them believe you."

"How? The photos look so bad, Joon."

"Because," Kang-joon said, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips, "you’re not G-Bolt anymore. You’re staryu. And a star doesn’t hide from the dark. It shines right through it."

The Variety Livestream: "staryu:u Kitchen"

Three hours later, the staryu unit was live on the main portal. The "Digital Sailor" theme was in full effect. They were in a kitchen set, supposedly learning how to bake "Galaxy Cookies" for the fans.

The comments were a battlefield.

– [UserX]: Why is the thug still on screen? Look at his hands, he’s probably thinking about punching the dough.

– [Protectstaryu]: We don’t believe the rumors! Gun-woo is a sweetheart!

– [Consortium_Bot]: Starline is covering up violence again. Disgusting.

Gun-woo was visibly stiff, his hands shaking as he held a bag of flour. He looked like he wanted to bolt. Jae-hyun and Han-bin were trying to keep the energy up, but the tension was thick.

Kang-joon stepped into the frame. He was wearing a light blue apron over his hoodie, his hair slightly tousled. He looked like the perfect "Loverboy" protagonist.

"Everyone," Kang-joon said, looking directly into the camera. He didn’t wait for a prompt. He didn’t look at the PD. "I see the comments. I know what you’re talking about."

Behind the camera, PD Na froze. The writers looked ready to pull the plug. But the "Impression" count was skyrocketing. 15 million. 16 million.

"Gun-woo-ssi is my friend," Kang-joon continued, his voice calm and melodic. "He’s the heart of our team. And there’s someone who wants to say something."

He held up his phone to the camera. On the screen was a video call. A young man, about nineteen, was sitting in a university library. He looked nervous but determined.

"My name is Choi Min-ho," the boy said, his voice echoing through the livestream. "I’m a student at Yonsei University. Four years ago, Park Gun-woo saved my life. Those photos you see? He was protecting me from four people who were... I can’t even say it. He took the blame so I wouldn’t have to testify and be traumatized again. He’s not a delinquent. He’s my hero."

The comment section stopped. Then, it exploded.

– [Fan_01]: Oh my god. He was a protector?

– [JusticeForGunwoo]: Look at Gun-woo’s face... he’s crying. I’m crying.

– [staryu_Official]: This is the true ’Loverboy’ energy. Protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

Kang-joon put the phone down and walked over to Gun-woo. In front of 18 million live viewers, the "Reserved Architect" did something unscripted. He reached out and pulled Gun-woo into a hug.

"You don’t have to be ’tough’ to be a hero, Gun-woo-ya," Kang-joon whispered. "You just have to be you."

[System Notification: Impression Roulette]

[New Milestone: 20,000,000 Total Impressions]

[Skill Unlocked: ’The Nation’s Brotherhood’ (Permanent Group Buff)]

[Effect: Your team’s chemistry is now perceived as ’Unbreakable’. Any attempt to sabotage one member will result in increased popularity for the whole group.]

The Aftermath

The livestream ended with the highest viewership in the history of Road to Starlight. The "Warehouse Scandal" had turned into "The Hero of Incheon" narrative in less than sixty minutes.

The Director, sitting in his office, had watched the whole thing. He had seen the hug. He had seen the Yonsei student. He had seen the stock price of Starline jump 12% in an hour.

"He used a fan," the Director whispered, his face pale. "The student... that Law girl found him, didn’t she?"

"It seems so, sir," his secretary replied. "And the public... they’re calling Kang-joon ’The Guardian’ now. They’re saying he’s the one who keeps the group together."

The Director closed his eyes. He had tried to play a game of chess against a boy who was playing a game of life. And for the first time, the Director realized he was outmatched.

Back at the Dorms

The five members of staryu were sprawled out on the living room floor, surrounded by half-eaten pizza. Gun-woo was finally, truly relaxed. He was wearing his star-patch overalls again, but this time, he looked proud of them.

"I can’t believe you did that, Joon-ah," Gun-woo said, taking a massive bite of crust. "You hate being on camera for more than five minutes."

"I did it for the tickets," Kang-joon said, though the tips of his ears were red.

"Liar," Han-bin teased. "You did it because you’re a big softie. Admit it. You love us."

"I find your presence... tolerable," Kang-joon said, but his eyes were shining.

Jae-hyun leaned his head on Kang-joon’s shoulder. "Hyung, can we do the ’cat-ear’ move in the bridge now? Gun-woo said he’d do it if we reached 20 million impressions."

Gun-woo froze. "I never said that."

"You did! I have it on voice memo!" Jae-hyun squealed, pulling out his phone.