The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

Chapter 269: Chapter 220: Ringtone Business 2

In terms of audience appeal, the Saintess undoubtedly had a wider reach than Susan.

Her singing style was more... what’s the word? Right, pop. A bit more mainstream.

As for Susan’s folk singing style, many people just watched out of curiosity. There weren’t that many who genuinely enjoyed listening to it.

You could also see it in the play counts on music platforms. Susan’s song was only in the lead for the first two days after the show aired, after which she was surpassed by the Saintess.

"Ah, if only I had half her popularity."

Galina yelled as she rolled around on her bed.

"Even a tenth would be enough! That’d be enough for me to get into the revival round."

On *Feilin’s Best Songs*, singers who weren’t chosen by the mentors could participate in a revival round after the initial phase if they received the most popularity votes.

The popularity vote carried a lot of weight—in a very literal, monetary sense. After each episode, every real-name verified account got one free vote. However, you couldn’t save up free votes for one contestant; you could only cast one vote per contestant.

To get paid votes, you had to buy sponsored products like the Tyrannosaurus Machine or its players, or spend money on those platforms.

The cost of boosting the rankings was extremely high.

Just farming free play counts wouldn’t cut it.

"Aren’t you in the revival bracket right now?" Uffie asked.

She would know even if she didn’t want to. Galina was checking the popularity rankings eighty times a day, shouting with excitement each time, even if nothing had changed since she last looked.

"I’m not confident! This is just the first episode. Who knows how many incredible contestants will show up later on."

Galina started rolling faster on the bed.

It was a habit of hers. Whenever she got anxious, she’d roll on the bed, adjusting her rolling speed based on her anxiety level.

The more anxious, the faster.

Based on her current speed, and from what Uffie had seen before, this level of anxiety was unprecedented.

It was dizzying just to watch.

"Ahhh—if only the show’s producers would tell me I’m in the revival round right now! Oh, Zog, please help me! If I get to come back, I swear I’ll be a loyal customer of Zog Group products forever!"

"What a weak promise," Uffie deadpanned from the side. "You’re already a loyal customer of the Zog Group."

"Well, what else can I do? I’m out of bargaining chips! Why don’t you ask your boss if he wants to learn how to cast a giant fireball?"

DING DONG!

Before the words had even left her mouth, an email notification chimed on a phone.

The email system had been rolled out to commercially available phones after passing internal app testing.

Ordinary people didn’t use it much, but it was an instant hit with major corporations.

It wasn’t just convenient for business communications; it could also be used to send out all sorts of promotional spam.

One day it’s a discount on an event, the next it’s a new product launch.

"Who is it?"

Galina was sure she’d already blocked the email addresses of the companies that loved sending out spam.

She curiously took out her phone.

Phones back then didn’t have touchscreens, but they didn’t have many buttons either. They used a stylus. Though it was called a stylus, it was actually a miniature Magic Staff engraved with Runes.

It didn’t have any Casting abilities, but when held close enough to the screen, it could interact with the Magic Array underneath, achieving an effect similar to a modern stylus.

It was jointly developed by Professor Moore, an Elf Mage, and a Transformation Mage. Zog found it very difficult to use. When you used the stylus, you could faintly see the light of the Magic Array operating from beneath the screen.

Sometimes it would register a touch even after the stylus was lifted from the screen, making it easy to trigger things by mistake.

And it wasn’t just the phone that needed its magic recharged; the stylus needed regular recharging too.

It had plenty of drawbacks, but in the eyes of the residents of the Feilin Continent, it was still mind-blowing technology.

Galina tapped open the email app.

"Sender... Ah!"

A scream startled Uffie.

"What’s wrong?"

"It’s, it’s from the Zog Group!"

"That’s not exactly unusual." Uffie was well aware that the Zog Group was the biggest culprit when it came to sending promotional spam via email.

"It’s not normal! It’s signed by Zog himself! What kind of boss sends out spam under his own name?"

’Come to think of it,’ Uffie thought, ’my boss actually might.’

Galina excitedly opened the email.

"In light of your outstanding performance in the premiere episode of *Feilin’s Best Songs*, we would like to formally invite you to the Zog Group Headquarters to record your excellent composition..."

After reading the email, Galina was so excited she started jumping for joy.

"I knew it, I knew it! I’m definitely getting into the revival round, hahaha! I’m going to be a Big Star! I’m coming back!"

————————

"No, no, no. You haven’t been confirmed for the revival round. The spots are determined by the popularity vote results. Wasn’t that rule announced before the show was even recorded?"

In the Zog Group’s audio studio, Zog calmly addressed an ecstatic Galina, a milk tea in his hands.

His words were a bucket of cold water dumped on Galina, who had been overjoyed the entire trip over.

"Huh? No, what?" She couldn’t process it for a second. "Then... what am I here to record?"

"You’re here to record your song," Zog replied. "The email said so, didn’t it? You’re not here to record for the show."

"Elsa, how did you word that email? Elsa?"

"Boss, you forgot. My sister took the day off today," Yuno replied while adjusting some equipment.

"Oh, right. Why’d she take off again?"

If Zog recalled correctly, this was the first time Elsa had ever requested time off. She used to insist on working even when she was sick. She always complained about hating her job, but she was actually quite diligent.

It was rare for her to take a day off, and the reason she’d given was just "personal matters," without any specifics. Zog had approved it right away.

"A blind date."

"PFFT—COUGH, COUGH, COUGH!" Zog sprayed a mouthful of milk tea. "She went on a blind date?"

"Yes. Because my mom made it through on the show, she got dragged into a blind date."

"Huh?" Zog looked completely baffled. ’What on earth was the connection between those two things?’