Chapter 94
Regardless, whenever people form a group, opinions are bound to diverge among them.
Some were convinced that I was Seo Si-yeon, while others thought that couldn’t possibly be true.
“There is absolutely no way she’s Ms. Seo Si-yeon.”
The person who said that had once been a top-tier composer and was still respected throughout the industry.
“For one thing, her vocal tone is different, but since she’s gone through puberty, I won’t count that as evidence. The most decisive point is that her singing technique is completely different.”
Naturally.
Because I had deliberately sung differently.
If you were planning to hide your identity in the first place, using your old singing technique unchanged would have been foolish.
“And there’s no way Seo Si-yeon would choose a song in that style…”
“Why not? It was a cute song, just like Si-yeon’s appearance.”
“From what I hear, Si-yeon’s musical style itself is somewhat far removed from that.”
That was true too.
Of all the songs I had released so far, not a single one emphasized dreaminess and cuteness.
Not even the songs I had composed myself.
It was a gratifying argument, since I had deliberately chosen the song hoping they would think that way.
However, partly because the insole clue had been so shocking, the third round proceeded with the majority convinced that I was Seo Si-yeon.
Saki, who performed first, uncharacteristically brought a ballad she didn’t usually sing.
Her vocals weren’t exceptionally strong, but she had the experience accumulated over her long career.
She wasn’t lacking in skill enough to put on a disappointing performance in a place like this.
The panel gave Saki a standing ovation for the skill she had displayed.
Saki, too, left the stage looking quite satisfied.
“Wow. She’s surprisingly skilled.”
“Right? She’s completely different from the first round.”
“I think I know who she is.”
Next, it was my turn.
As before, my song choice was Yuna’s “Tail Star.”
An intense drumbeat that seemed to shake the ground from the very beginning.
As the tempo rose sharply, like a fixie ridden by someone who had forgotten the brakes, the celebrity and civilian judges alike began bobbing their heads.
“What? She’s doing this?”
“Her song choice is the exact opposite of the previous round.”
The brief murmur died down the moment the first line left my lips.
Not grand, but lively.
I murmured the opening line as if forcefully exhaling, bringing out the intro’s exciting, speedy feeling.
I could feel the judges grow briefly agitated at the powerful vocal tone, one that was hard to believe belonged to a child.
The most entertaining part of Masked Singer was the reactions of the celebrity judges.
Perhaps because they were veterans who had been doing this for years, their reactions to the songs were incredibly satisfying.
As the song moved into its middle section, the tempo gradually increased.
Guitar riffs and piano melodies fired off frantically.
Amid them, I held on to the song’s center as firmly as possible, keeping my pitch steady and unwavering.
In the pre-chorus, building up to the chorus that would explode a few seconds later, a gentle piano melody flowed.
I caught my breath for a moment and gathered my strength for the highlight that was about to come.
And then it exploded.
Vocal power that was impossible to believe had come from such a delicate frame burst out as if it would tear through the speakers.
The voice that had been lightly and jauntily murmuring through the first half was nowhere to be found.
As my sharply honed full voice broke straight through the high register, a scream-like cheer erupted from the audience.
Over the band sound charging forward at the insane speed of 170 BPM, my voice raced freely like a surfer riding a wave.
The piano’s dazzling glissando supported my voice from behind, while the electric guitar’s high-gain sound backed the voice I was deliberately roughening.
“Wow, that’s insane!”
An elder singer sitting among the celebrity judges shot to his feet as if he had been launched from his chair.
He could see exactly how meticulously this stage had been constructed and executed.
The composer who had just declared that there was no way I could be Seo Si-yeon stared at the stage with his mouth hanging open.
The singing style of Seo Si-yeon he had analyzed did not exist on this stage.
This was neither Seo Si-yeon nor anyone else, but an overwhelming performance that only the nameless masked girl on this stage could put on.
The most thrilling part was having control of the song at my fingertips.
Even in sections where I was gasping for breath, I deliberately laid slightly behind the beat, acting as though I had room to spare.
I could feel the air onstage contracting and expanding with every breath I took.
The song passed its climax and headed into its final sprint.
The drums’ double bass pounded against my heart, and I gathered every last scrap of air before shooting my voice along the trajectory of the highest note.
“Sparkle, shine!”
The lingering resonance of the long, soaring high note struck the ceiling of the venue and shattered.
The instruments stopped all at once as if on cue, and only the cold piano melody from the intro began flowing quietly again.
Then came silence after the blackout.
The silence didn’t last long.
“Waaaaaaaaaaah!”
A storm of cheers poured forth. I had chosen the song to hide my identity, but ironically, this stage was revealing to the entire world what kind of singer I had become.
Inside my mask, I curled up the corners of my lips slightly.
Doubt about my identity, and certainty.
Watching the judges’ faces as they wavered between the two was quite entertaining.
* * *
In Joo Jin-woo’s memories, Seo Si-yeon had been a monster musically, but she hadn’t been quite that outstanding as a vocalist.
A childlike, clear vocal tone and high notes that rose fairly high.
She had been a girl whose greatest strength was her innate ability to immerse herself in a song.
After going through puberty, that girl had returned with a completely different vocal style.
“Tail Star.”
Joo Jin-woo knew the song too, but it was an extremely rough-edged song.
It was one of Yuna’s songs, and Yuna was considered the leading figure in J-rock-style music in Korea.
It couldn’t be sung prettily; it required a certain animalistic ferocity.
Seo Si-yeon had expressed that ferocity perfectly.
Two years ago, that would have been virtually impossible.
But the Seo Si-yeon of today had advanced several steps beyond who she had been back then.
“…Nice.”
This wasn’t a stage she absolutely had to win, as it had been during Singer Star.
Joo Jin-woo had already been on a long winning streak as champion, and it was about time for him to step down from the position.
If anything, now was truly the time for him to relinquish the crown.
But this was a rematch of Singer Star after two years.
Joo Jin-woo had no intention of phoning in his performance or offering up an ambiguous concession.
When it came to music as a whole, it was true that he lagged behind Seo Si-yeon.
He was good at singing, but he wasn’t good at music itself.
However, as a vocalist, Joo Jin-woo had to overwhelm Seo Si-yeon.
Even if Seo Si-yeon had put on a performance of an absurdly high caliber, someone with Joo Jin-woo’s skill as a top-tier male vocalist would be more than capable of beating her.
The host shouted energetically.
“By a vote of 61 to 38, the Princess Who Conquers the World with Song earns the right to challenge for the champion’s crown!”
As expected, the result was exactly what he had anticipated.
His opponent had also put on a solid performance, but it hadn’t been especially impactful.
It was only natural that Seo Si-yeon, who had shown off shocking high notes and a powerful performance completely different from the previous round, would advance to the championship battle.
“Mr. Jin-woo. We’ll get you ready.”
The voting would take place immediately after Joo Jin-woo’s stage.
The championship battle on Masked Singer was structurally designed to favor the reigning champion.
The challenger’s performance wasn’t repeated separately after their third-round stage, but the champion performed and then received the votes immediately afterward.
Since the human brain was always sensitive to new stimuli, it was only natural that the champion, who performed later, would have an advantage in the voting.
“So I have to win.”
Joo Jin-woo’s song choice for this championship battle was PODIUM.
It was a song from Seo Si-yeon’s first full-length album, and it perfectly suited his tastes as someone whose roots lay in indie-band vocals.
It was a song he listened to often and sometimes sang himself, so he was confident in his ability to perform it.
He was even confident that he could sing it better than Seo Si-yeon, the original singer.
It was rather ironic that he would be facing Seo Si-yeon, the challenger, with one of her own songs, but at least he was confident that he could bring PODIUM to life to its fullest.
“This time, I’m getting my revenge.”
In truth, there was nothing to gain from winning.
He really did need to step down from the champion’s throne now.
Taking time off his schedule once every two weeks and separately rehearsing for each stage was a grueling routine to maintain for a long time.
Thinking that nothing could make him happier than defeating Seo Si-yeon with one of her own songs, Joo Jin-woo walked onto the stage.