Michael sat in his office, staring at the large screen in front of him. He didn't even need Clara to bring him this update — Dayo's face was everywhere. Every TV, every platform, every trending post. It was like the boy had hijacked the entire world.

"Clara, come to my office," he said, his voice low but sharp.

Less than ten seconds later, Clara walked in. She looked exhausted — her eyes were red, her hair slightly out of place. She hadn't slept properly in days.

"Why," Michael said slowly, "am I still seeing this everywhere?" He turned the tablet toward her. On the screen was Dayo — smiling, laughing, performing, winning.

Clara took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "Sir, we've done everything — inside and outside the books. We've used every strategy possible, but it's like… It's not working anymore."

Michael said nothing, only stared at her, his jaw tight.

"We pushed our S-list artists like P.J. to announce surprise albums. We spread rumors, even tried subtle scandals to divert the traffic. We reached out to our contacts inside the social media companies themselves — but according to them, even their algorithms can't explain this. They said it's… a mystery. The whole thing doesn't make sense to anyone."

Michael's expression didn't change, but his knuckles were white against the desk. "All I hear are excuses, Clara," he said coldly. "There's nothing mysterious about hard work. I don't care what it takes — I want results within a week."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he waved her off. "That'll be all."

Clara nodded quickly and walked out, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Michael stood and began pacing. His head was pounding, his mind spinning. It had been a long time since he'd felt this kind of pressure — and it infuriated him that it was coming from a rookie.

A f**king nobody that had just entered the music scene, while he had been here for decades.

But he knew Dayo was smart. Too smart. The boy had planned this entire thing while Michael had let his guard down, while he was waiting for the Senator to forget Dayo because they followed each other on social media. He wanted the Senator to have forgotten before he struck. And then — boom — the album dropped, taking the entire world by storm. One week. Just one damn week.

Michael clenched his jaw, staring at the floor. He couldn't understand it — even after tampering with numbers and running interference, the album was still selling more than anything in his entire label's lineup.

He wasn't just angry now — he was obsessed. He wanted to know how. What trick. What secret. What formula was this boy using?

He had already hired private investigators, hackers, insiders — anyone who could dig up something, anything. But nothing made sense. And Michael refused to believe that it was a coincidence. Not with someone like Dayo. He knew the boy — cunning, strategic, dangerously patient.

Looking at it now, it was almost poetic: Dayo had waited until he relaxed, then struck back with precision. Every move calculated. And the release was timed to perfection when his guard was low. So no, it wasn't luck.

He muttered quietly, almost to himself, "Dayo, I don't know what you did, but I'll find it. And if I can't use it — then neither will you."

He sat back down slowly, his mind racing with plans. He wasn't thinking about promotion anymore. He was thinking about elimination. If he couldn't control Dayo… then Dayo couldn't sing at all. Not in this industry. Not anywhere.

He leaned forward, whispering to himself, "I'm done playing. It's time you learned how ruthless this industry can be."

---

Meanwhile, across the city, Dayo had no idea what storm was brewing.

At JD Records, the mood was the complete opposite.

"Bro! You actually won the Millionaire show! Like, who even does that?!" Rex shouted, eyes wide as he stared at Dayo like he was looking at a superhero.

Dayo laughed. "Haha, yeah… thanks. It was kinda hard though."

"Kinda hard?" Alice said, raising an eyebrow. "You answered fifteen questions without breaking a sweat. Even the host was scared of you!"

Dayo smirked. "Yeah, pretty much. Is that what you want to hear?"

The whole room burst into laughter.

Everyone was in high spirits — drinks, snacks, noise, and celebration filled the air. It wasn't just a win. It was momentum.

By the next morning, the promotion continued — and its popularity still hadn't dropped. If anything, it was climbing higher.

Dayo gathered his team; they were itching to see the numbers, but they made a pact on the second day of the album release:

"No one checks the official sales until the week is up. We'll check it together."

At first, they hesitated, but eventually, everyone agreed. It became almost like a superstition — a silent pact of confidence.

The following days were a blur. Dayo did radio interviews, club appearances, fan meetups, and even surprise pop-ups in small cities. He signed over three thousand physical copies of The Other Side with his own hand. Everywhere he went, crowds followed.

This became another record-breaking hype — he broke a Guinness World Record for the most signed albums.

The fans loved him even more for it. They called him The People's Star. Every media outlet wanted to talk about him.

By Thursday night, social media was already buzzing with headlines:

> "Dayo's album may have broken the first-week record."

"The mystery continues — can anyone stop JD?"

And when journalists asked Dayo about the rumors, he only smiled and said, "I don't know… let's wait and see."

That simple line went viral. Memes, fan edits, and clips flooded the internet again.

By Friday morning — the one-week mark — the atmosphere inside JD Records was tense but hopeful. Everyone was there: Luna, Rex, Elana, Valery… everyone except Mateo, who was staying a bit far away.

Even the featured artists who had worked with Dayo were glowing — they'd gained millions of followers overnight.

Dayo stood at the center of the room and smiled at them. "Today marks one week since we dropped The Other Side. And let me correct that — our album."

The team laughed.

"It's not just my success," he continued. "It's all of ours. We made this happen together."

They clapped, cheered, and some even got teary-eyed. Valery smiled, her hands slightly trembling as she sat in front of the big projector.

"Alright," Dayo said, grinning, "moment of truth. Let's see the numbers."

Valery pressed the enter key. The room went quiet. The screen lit up.

For a few seconds, no one moved. No one breathed.

"...What?" Rex whispered.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Luna said, frozen in place.

Valery covered her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide.

The screen flashed the number. And in that silence, every jaw in the room dropped.

"....."

"..."

"..."

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