Chapter 33
A seated venue with no standing area, apparently holding around 250 people. Since it was the first anime-song-focused band concert to be held in quite some time after COVID, a fairly large crowd was taking their seats.
“Looks like we might sell out at the door today. How many tickets were left when advance sales ended?”
“About forty.”
“So we’ve already sold thirty at the door. What is this? This is pretty good, isn’t it? I was prepared to run a deficit.”
“Tickets suddenly started flying a few days ago. Still, I didn’t think we’d sell out…”
Two hundred and fifty seats might look small, but it was actually a fairly large venue. Door tickets cost 25,000 won and advance tickets cost 20,000, so selling out would mean roughly five million won in revenue.
Of course, some of that would go toward renting the venue, and then they had to pay the bands they had hired… but in any case, a show they had been prepared to run at a loss had suddenly turned a profit. How could he not be pleased?
Youngshin watched the audience trickle in. When he thought they were running a deficit, he had wondered why he had done this at all and wanted to shave all those shaggy heads with clippers…
But when he thought of it as turning a profit, he suddenly felt like handing everyone a drink. Of course, doing that might put them back in the red.
“Could it be because of the new kids? Tickets seemed to start selling quickly after the additional lineup announcement.”
“You think so?”
As far as he knew, they were complete newcomers to paid performances. Were they really that powerful? Rather than think that was the reason, Youngshin decided to believe it was simply because the larger lineup offered better value for money.
‘But they were definitely good. They didn’t seem like an ordinary anime-song band. Especially the guitarist…’
Seonghyeon sat down and unzipped the parka he had worn. Since it was a seated venue, there was no need to jump around, but opening it a little indoors made it less stuffy.
There were more audience members than he had expected. He had come because an acquaintance performing with one of the bands today had said, “Please come watch us… They say the tickets aren’t selling…”
He did like anime, and he did like anime songs, but he had never liked them enough to pay 20,000 won to come to a concert like this and listen to music… so the money felt like quite a waste.
‘How good could the performance really be…?’
He genuinely thought so. The people performing here might have worked hard in their own ways… but weren’t they ultimately amateurs, not professionals? And the people who had written the songs were professionals.
No matter how good an amateur was, it was difficult to match a professional. No matter what people said about the ‘magic of live performances’ or ‘reinterpretation,’ the original was always the best.
Thinking that, Seonghyeon looked to the side. Surprisingly, there seemed to be quite a few women for an event like this—though since this was his first time attending one, his impression was nothing more than a vague, uninformed judgment.
Come to think of it, he had read that there were more female otaku who liked band anime these days. He thought he had seen something online about female otaku beginning to identify with the protagonist of that anime. In the end, otaku were all the same, whether men or women, Seonghyeon thought as he quietly watched the stage.
And Ayoon, who had been the target of such a ridiculous misconception without even knowing it, watched the stage with considerable nervousness.
‘I’m looking forward to today.’
She was a fan of a certain band-themed game.
Originally, Ayoon had had no interest in that sort of thing at all, and had simply gone through life listening to idol songs… But then one day, a song she heard completely changed her life as an otaku. A song that was, in her opinion, shockingly good.
Falling in love with that song, she poured every bit of devotion she could imagine into the franchise. She bought albums, made a social media account, and even looked into traveling to Japan, wondering if there might be some way to attend a live show.
But there were many things devotion alone couldn’t accomplish. No matter how hard she tried, money did not simply fall from the sky, and a poor college student’s finances could not cover a live show. Buying the concert ticket, booking a flight to Japan, reserving a place to stay… How much money would all that cost?
Instead, she looked for another way to hear live songs. The result was where she was now: someone who went to anime-song cover concerts so she could enjoy, if only indirectly, live performances from the homeland.
‘Today’s show should at least be pretty good.’
The quality of cover bands… no matter how hard they tried, it was difficult to match the original. Even so, there were certainly bands that managed to reach a respectable level of quality. And one of those bands was on today’s lineup.
‘Because Solata is always a safe bet!’
She clenched her fists and looked at the pamphlet listing the lineup. Among the familiar band names was one she had never seen before: ‘Group Sound.’
‘These guys are playing Bocchi the Rock.’
Who knew how it would turn out? It couldn’t be easy for a rookie band to play those songs, so Ayoon lowered her expectations.
“Thank you!!”
The leader left them with a cheerful greeting. But her expression was slightly at odds with that cheerfulness. The applause pouring from the audience was nothing more than polite, perfunctory clapping.
It was because they had put on a rather pathetic performance.
The most important thing in a band was harmony. Vocals, guitar, bass, drums… and keyboard, if there was one. A band was formed when those four or five elements harmonized to create a single piece of music.
That was why, when one part stuck out, no matter how good that person’s playing was… if the others couldn’t support it, the result was nothing more than cacophony. The reverse was true as well.
There was no band that didn’t know this.
Even a band formed the day before would understand the need for harmony after a single rehearsal. Playing off on your own might be portrayed as beautiful in manga… but in reality, it was an act that ruined the music.
But the band that had just finished seemed to have forgotten all of that. The guitar, drums, bass, and vocals had all been doing whatever they pleased.
‘I thought their first performance was pretty good.’
That was what Seonghyeon thought. Even without giving them points for being amateurs, their first performance had been quite good. But this band? Not so much.
Amid the distracted murmuring in the venue, Seonghyeon wondered why. They had to be reasonably skilled to appear on a stage like this, yet even to someone as unfamiliar with band music as him, they had made mistakes that seemed incredibly amateurish.
‘Did they feel pressured or something?’
Ayoon wondered the same thing. Even though 250 seats was a sizable venue, this wasn’t a band that should have felt pressured by that. She had seen them perform quite a few times, after all.
If so, was there another reason? Had something happened during rehearsal?
“Thank you for waiting. Now, the next act is…”
As she thought about it, the MC came onto the stage. Behind him were the silhouettes of four people who appeared to be the third band.
“A band here to cover songs from the hit anime Bocchi the Rock. An unprecedented band made up of four high school girls…!”
The MC’s words drew excited murmurs from the audience. Ayoon wondered, ‘Is that even possible?’ If it was true, then their playing was a secondary concern. Four high school girls were forming a band—what did their skill matter?
“Please welcome them! Group Sound!”
A slightly excited round of applause broke out at the MC’s introduction. Then the stage went dark.
A few seconds later, a single spotlight shone down onto the stage.
A girl with long black hair. A black hoodie, black pants, and even a black guitar.
The girl stood looking down at the floor for a moment, then plucked her guitar. After the first pluck, the notes rose one after another.
Then a fierce performance began without warning.
‘This is… exactly like the original!’
At the sight of the band recreating the anime scene exactly, a cheer erupted all at once. The solo had begun arbitrarily, without any signal, but it had been worth it.
A few seconds later, the music began with cymbals ringing in time.
What had changed? The rhythm guitar had been replaced by a keyboard, and the lead guitarist was handling the vocals.
Other than that, nothing was different.
Nothing was lacking.
If anything, the audience thought the song had become even more polished.
Why was that?
The bass and drums were solid but unremarkable. The keyboard had replaced the rhythm guitar, with some character added through the arrangement, but not enough to make the difference from the original obvious.
And then there was the lead guitar.
An unwavering rhythm and beat.
A tone that was slightly different from the original,
but not different enough to stand out,
Yet the audience felt it.
That wasn’t mere guitar playing.
The flow of the song—or rather, the band’s entire musical performance… was all wrapped around that one guitar.
And the performance was slowly unfolding before the audience.
One thread at a time… exactly as the guitarist intended.
At the tempo she desired.
When the third song ended, the cheers erupted a little late. Thunderous applause burst out as though the band’s set had come to an end.
‘This is fucking insane!’
Ayoon thought. Where had a band like this been hiding? No, they hadn’t been hiding. A band like this couldn’t possibly stay hidden.
Because anyone who heard a performance like this would never stay quiet. They would make a huge fuss and post something beginning with, ‘I just heard the most insane performance…’
Therefore, this band was probably making its debut. Ayoon reached that reckless conclusion and opened social media.
[At Yongsan A Park rn and this performance is fucking insane holy shit]
As Ayoon typed, the venue briefly brightened. After the song ended, the lead guitarist took hold of the microphone hanging from its stand.
“Then we’ll play our last song.”
At those words, someone in the audience shouted.
“Aw, why!!! One more song!!!!”
Laughter erupted, and calls for an encore began rising from various parts of the audience. The lead guitarist gave a low chuckle and continued speaking.
“If you want to hear more from us, remember our band’s name. The name of our band—the one you’ll hear somewhere, someday.”
Then the performance began again.
Along with the familiar music, the vocalist’s voice rang out.
‘Is this another recreation of the original?’
Seonghyeon had been deeply impressed by the recreation of the original they had shown in the first song. He had seen the anime too, and that scene had left a strong impression on him.
So Seonghyeon thought it was perfectly reasonable to expect them to recreate the original again this time.
‘But I heard that’s surprisingly difficult…’
According to ‘that wiki,’ where finding one thing led to finding ten more, the bottleneck technique itself was fairly difficult. It had even said that it was something you could never play by merely dabbling in guitar, which made him wonder whether, even if she did recreate it, she might only be doing so from memory.
‘But even if she only manages that much…’
Wouldn’t that be enough? Seonghyeon calmed his inexplicably pounding heart and continued watching the performance. The climax was drawing nearer.
And, naturally, the rhythm guitar’s—no, the rhythm keyboard’s—solo section began. Even though they knew it was rude, cheers and applause burst from part of the audience.
‘If that has appeared, then naturally…’
Seonghyeon looked toward the lead guitarist. There, the lead guitarist was unwinding the first string with quick movements of her hand.
‘Is she recreating even that?’
Except for the fact that what she was holding wasn’t an Onigoro-shi, it was an excellent recreation. As Seonghyeon thought that, the lead guitarist finished unwinding the string, then scraped the slide bar at the right moment and began playing the solo.
“Woooooah!”
Another cheer erupted. Unlike during the keyboard performance, there were quite a lot of people cheering. When the faithful recreation of the original ended, another round of somewhat subdued cheers and applause broke out. In the midst of it, Seonghyeon saw the lead guitarist reconnecting the string.
‘Is the dive next?’
That was what Seonghyeon thought.
No, everyone in the audience thought so.
If they wanted to faithfully recreate the original, the final course could only be the dive.
But everyone was seated. Would she really dive? Perhaps the audience would fail to catch her and she would crash alone onto the floor—that might be the true recreation of the original.
The lyrics ended.
And, naturally, the audience thought that was the finale.
Because that was what happened in the original.
So they applauded.
They shouted and cheered.
They praised the band standing before them.
But that praise quickly began to fade.
Because the performance wasn’t over.
Myeongjeon smiled with his head tilted slightly.
In response to the snapped string, Myeongjeon continued playing with a glass bottle as a slide… It was a good idea. It had actually happened before.
But wasn’t it terribly unfortunate to use slide technique so pointlessly?
‘I’ll show you properly what slide guitar is.’
The glass fitted onto his ring finger was a mere five centimeters long and less than one centimeter thick… nothing more than a simple object. A transparent cylinder made to fit over a finger.
But the moment it was placed in the hands of a skilled guitarist, it went beyond twenty-one frets, twelve notes, and twenty-three thousand chords.
It became an object that could turn the guitar into an all-powerful instrument, capable of producing an almost infinite number of sounds.
Myeongjeon began moving his left hand furiously. His guitar played on without pause, accompanied by the distinctive sound of slide technique.
Its bluesy timbre was completely different from the song they had been playing until then. The guitar played softly, moving freely between high and low notes.
But there was no sense of incongruity.
More precisely, there wasn’t even time to feel one.
They say beautiful music makes people turn back from wherever they were going.
But overwhelming music?
A performance that, if you missed this moment, you might never hear again?
If such a performance existed, would it merely make people turn their steps around?
They say moths throw themselves into flames even while knowing the path leads only to death.
In the same way, everyone there could do nothing but blankly receive the music surging toward them like a tidal wave.
The atmosphere grew more and more intense.
High notes beyond the limits of the guitar rang out, while the drums, keyboard, and bass rose toward the climax as well.
The melody fell like a waterfall, then surged like a wave. Looking back, before they knew it, it had become a sea breeze blowing in from the beach, clawing at them… and by the time they turned around, it had long since left their side.
And at the moment the performance reached its peak, accompanied by the keyboard’s bright, scraping glissando…
The performance ended.