The first stage where newcomers showcase their abilities—the Newcomer Sharp List. The top two spots on the chart haven’t changed for a week, holding steady and pulling further and further ahead of the rest. If it were someone else, Alan Duke might still be thinking about fighting for it, maybe pushing his own newcomers a bit more, but ever since those two appeared, Alan Duke gave up on the idea.

On the Newcomer Sharp List—

First place:

“Trust Me,” singer Henry Shaw, composer Henry Shaw, company Tongshan Shihua.

Second place:

“Rainbow Candy,” singer Phyllis, composer Phyllis, company Neon Culture.

The singer and composer are the same person—this person must be really talented, right?

No!

These two are indeed very strong, but they’re not real-life idols—they’re virtual idols!

Real idols have to fight their way through countless challenges to debut. Newcomers rack their brains to climb the charts, living in constant anxiety, afraid their debut performance won’t be good enough, since their results are tied to the company.

But virtual idols are different, especially these with obvious strategic purposes. Their companies invest significant manpower and resources, go through long preparation and internal selection before launching them, and then focus even more resources on them—advantages real-life newcomers simply can’t get.

Behind every virtual idol is a complete team and ambitious capital.

How the hell can this count as a newcomer?!

These virtual idols launched by big companies have manpower, resources, and funding that other newcomers can’t even dream of. This year, there isn’t a single real-life rookie who can compete with them. And Silver Wing Company isn’t about to focus its resources on fighting those two virtual idols—the company’s priorities are on bigger stars, so upper management has already decided to give up on competing for the top two spots in the newcomer competition.

Virtual idols on the newcomer chart are like bugs, making their presence felt year after year. Whenever a virtual idol appears in the rookie competition, the other newcomers are just stepping stones.

A Silver Wing executive once suggested to the Global Music Association that virtual idols be disqualified from the newcomer chart, but unfortunately, it was rejected. Whenever Silver Wing people think of this, they practically cough up blood in frustration.

Of course, clueless onlookers will say, “Since the top two of the three major companies are launching virtual newcomers this season, why doesn’t Silver Wing just launch one too?”

But anyone who knows the industry at all knows that Silver Wing is a total weakling when it comes to virtual idols—every time they launch one, it flops, every single one, not a single success, all crashing and burning!

Last year, a virtual idol team formed within the company saw their creation flop, and the producer was so infuriated by the open mockery from Tongshan Shihua and Neon Culture that he ended up hospitalized, still recovering to this day. In truth, he’s too ashamed to face Silver Wing’s management and staff. After all, he’d made a military-style pledge back then, but now… he deeply regrets it!

Silver Wing’s upper management also regrets it in their hearts. If they’d known it would fail, they never should have gotten involved in creating virtual idols. Now, everyone else in the industry is openly or secretly laughing at them—the money they wasted on virtual idol projects could have launched several promising newcomers.

Almost every virtual idol project Silver Wing started ended in total loss. With two virtual idols on the rookie chart this season, Silver Wing’s management is convinced Tongshan Shihua and Neon Culture did it on purpose, deliberately using virtual idols to disgust them just as they were planning to heavily promote their own newcomers.

Now, the company has abandoned the idea of creating virtual idols and is focusing entirely on real-life idols, so the pressure on the newcomer side is huge. The top two virtual idols on the chart are out of reach, so the company’s goal is the top ten—get as many spots as possible. If they can get three, Alan Duke’s salary doubles; if they get four, he gets a promotion.

Whether it’s a raise or a promotion, both are extremely tempting for Alan Duke.

Top ten… how many can they get?

As he was thinking, Alan Duke’s wristband chimed with a notification. He tapped to check.

It was a demo sent by John Foster.

“Oh, it’s here!” Alan Duke perked up.

No matter the quality of this demo, whether John Foster composed it alone or had help, as of now, all ten newcomers have submitted their works. Alan Duke’s task is nearly complete.

Chapter 7: Entering the Arena

To prevent theft, the rough demos submitted are all encrypted, using the company’s internal encryption software. After receiving them, Alan Duke has to decrypt them before listening.

While listening, Alan Duke also glanced at a document submitted by John Foster. His tightly furrowed brow relaxed a bit, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and for once, a slight smile appeared on his face: “He really knows how to be clever.”

After bringing in so many newcomers, even if Alan Duke doesn’t have a composer’s talent, he can still tell if a song has potential. Although the demo is rough and unfinished, just from this short segment, he can hear something different.

Once this song is fully produced, it should get a decent result—at least it won’t be embarrassing.

Alan Duke was fairly satisfied with what John Foster submitted. It was worth the pressure he took to get that kid an extra ten days.

After listening to the demo, Alan Duke sent John Foster a short message: “Come to the company this afternoon and get ready to record.”