114: Chapter 114 Gangnam Style, do I need to spell it out who this song is criticizing?

On Bilibili, a major Korean-language influencer with two million followers who studied in South Korea for seven years, "Seoul Observer," released a ten-minute analysis video.

The video title was extremely eye-catching: "You think he is joking? Actually, he is slapping the chaebols of South Korea across the face."

Just one hour after the video was posted, its view count surpassed five million.

In the footage, the influencer was wearing glasses with a serious expression.

"Family, I have seen many people following the trend of dancing the horse-riding dance, thinking this song is joyful and hypnotic. But everyone might have overlooked the lyrics written by God Su."

He pulled up the Korean lyrics panel for "gangnam style" and began breaking it down line by line.

"Gangnam District is the wealthiest area in Seoul, South Korea. Top chaebols and entertainment industry executives live here. Throughout this song, God Su uses an exaggerated, comical tone to imitate the showy, vain, and decadent lifestyles of the wealthy in Gangnam District."

"Drinking high-end coffee and putting on an elegant facade, but underneath it all lies a money-obsessed emptiness."

The influencer paused for a moment and brought up a photo.

It was precisely the footage of Lee Sang-hyeok, Executive Vice President of SM Entertainment, being photographed in the VIP box at Workers Stadium.

"Connecting this with the recent copyright lawsuit between God Su and SM Entertainment in South Korea, do I still need to spell out who this song is cursing?"

"God Su did not post a long complaint essay online. He only did one thing. He wrote a song using the K-pop music style that South Koreans are most proud of, and then, in front of the entire world, he stripped away the hypocritical underwear of the Gangnam District chaebols and ruthlessly trampled them underfoot!"

"The most ruthless part is that South Koreans are now playing this song on the streets themselves, and many are even dancing the horse-riding dance along with it! This is what you call attacking the heart and destroying the soul!"

As soon as the analysis video came out, the entire internet was shaken.

The bullet comments were instantly submerged in a dense sea of exclamation marks.

[Holy shit! I have got goosebumps!]

[No wonder this song is so addictive, so that was the core meaning!]

[This is what you call cultural export! Using your language to curse your chaebols, and even making you dance along!]

[Lee Sang-hyeok is probably so angry he has been sent to the ICU by now!]

[So satisfying! God Su's slap directly sent South Korean capital flying into outer space!]

[...]

At this moment, at the Seoul SM Entertainment headquarters.

President Kim Young-min sat behind his desk, his expression so gloomy water could be wrung from it.

Scattered on the desk were several freshly released reports.

YouTube data, stock decline figures, and contract termination notices from overseas partners.

A single "gangnam style" turned SM Entertainment's meticulously crafted high-end persona of many years into a world-class laughingstock.

Coupled with this, the public reputation of the entire Gangnam District in South Korea had turned into "a bunch of upstarts dancing the horse-riding dance."

"Where is Lee Sang-hyeok?"

Kim Young-min raised his head, his voice chilling.

The secretary stood at the door, swallowing hard: "Vice President Lee... was sent to the hospital last night because of high blood pressure."

Kim Young-min closed his eyes, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

Chengdu.

Morning Star Dance Studio.

Su Chen sat on the windowside sofa in the second-floor lounge area, holding a cup of warm water in his hand.

Downstairs in the plaza, more than fifty middle-aged women were rehearsing to "gangnam style".

The rhythm penetrated the glass, causing ripples on the surface of the water in the cup.

Lin Hao walked over with a tablet computer, unable to hide his overwhelming joy.

"Brother Su, awesome! YouTube has broken one billion views! Those South Korean executives must be jumping with anger right now."

Su Chen took a sip of water, his tone calm: "Routine operation."

He put down the water cup, not bothering to look at the trending search data on the tablet.

Using a divine song from his past life that swept across the globe to carry out a dimensionality reduction strike—he had long anticipated this result.

The phone on the desk vibrated.

Lu Han's name flickered on the screen.

Su Chen swiped to answer the call.

"Brother Su!"

Lu Han's gentle yet somewhat urgent voice came through, "The performance at Workers Stadium has also ended, and matters on the South Korean side have basically settled. Should you not fulfill your promise?"