Chapter 178
Chapter 178
Translator: Penny
Chapter 178
"Wow, how did LilP end up facing off against D.I instead of Yu Taeguen?"
"LilP absolutely crushed this stage. But the bracket is still surprising. How can they pit D.I against LilP? Is this even a fair fight?"
"Maybe? D.I completely bombed, so LilP might actually have a chance now."
The pre-recorded stage of Yu Taeguen versus LilP, along with the Semi-Final bracket previously revealed only to the contestants, was announced again to the live audience at the pre-recording venue.
Beneath the stage, a man who had come as part of the live audience chuckled with his friend as they waited for the Semi-Final performances.
"Fuck, why are there idols on Drop The Beat? It's so beneath the show's standards."
"Exactly! This is bullshit. I'm not hitting that button until D.I's set is over."
The two men felt the burning glares from the women beside them, who seemed to be fans of the featured idol. But the men, firmly believing they were defending "real hip-hop" from idol groupies, scoffed and casually ignored them.
To them, idol rappers were just untalented hacks forced into the position, mumbling lazy lyrics and calling it rap while desecrating hip-hop.
The Semi-Final stage between LilP and D.I began with D.I's opening performance.
The song was titled "Scribble."
A pristine white canvas, lines carelessly drawn across it.
As soon as D.I spat his first verse, the Fight Money on the scoreboard began to climb rapidly.
Even though he scored an own goal, he still showed the presence of a strong contender.
"Wow, it'd be a real shame to see him get eliminated here. The beat is absolutely fire too."
"If he snatched the mic from the idol right now and did the entire feature himself, I'd bet my Fight Money on D.I in a heartbeat."
The man raised one hand, swaying it to the rhythm as he chuckled with his friend.
Judging by the sluggish pace at which the Fight Money was rising—even as the song approached its climax—quite a few audience members seemed to share his sentiment.
Hey friend, no need to stress
Just grab it and scribble however you please
Who knows? Maybe a masterpiece will emerge from those scribbles
After the second hook, the music abruptly cut out.
In the brief silence that followed, the lights suddenly snapped on, illuminating the makeshift stage on the second floor.
The face of the person leaning against the railing was fully revealed under the spotlight.
"Holy shit, it's really Eden!"
"Yoon Eden's outfit is insane today!"
The deafening beats had stopped, allowing the man to clearly hear the conversation between the women beside him despite the roaring cheers. As he scanned Yoon Eden's blacklisted t-shirt and white Adidas jersey, he scoffed inwardly.
Just dressing like a damn hip-hop poser.
Though Yoon Eden had a sharp, striking look, he was undeniably handsome compared to the other rappers.
But for the man, who firmly believed that hip-hop wasn't about looks, Yoon Eden's appearance was no advantage.
All I could worry about was how badly that idol rapper jerk had ruined the song.
As Yoon Eden leisurely raised the microphone to his lips, the beat kicked back in.
How do you do?
I'll skip the cliché introductions
Let me introduce myself
Sixteen bars are enough, you know
Wow, his diction is killer...
Completely taken aback by his unexpected skill, the man blinked in surprise and silently marveled.
Curious about his friend's reaction, he turned his head and saw it clearly with his own eyes:
His friend, who had sworn just minutes ago that he would never press the button during D.I's performance, now pressed it as if hypnotized.
"Hey, you said you wouldn't press the button until the end of the performance, right?"
The man lowered his voice, his tone dripping with disbelief as he whispered to his friend. The friend raised his thumb in response.
"I just have a feeling that those four bars alone are enough to save the performance."
As if to prove his words, the Fight Money, which had been stagnant, suddenly began to skyrocket.
Yoon Eden detached himself from the railing he'd been leaning against, slapped high-fives with outstretched hands, and strode down the stairs, rapping the next verse with confident strides.
Wow, this guy can rap! +100 points
Oops, he's an idol? -100 points
A pointless game, a total score of 0
But you guys always say, "From the bottom"
The relaxed gesture of flipping his downward-pointing finger upward contrasted sharply with the venomous glint in his eyes.
His friend beside him had already merged with the Yoon Eden fans, cheering wildly.
The Fight Money displayed on the electronic scoreboard relentlessly increased, as if determined to reach an unprecedented sum.
Having fully descended the stairs and now grooving to the rhythm at center stage, Yoon Eden lightly bumped fists with D.I in mid-air, then tilted his chin and raised the microphone to his lips.
The line I drew before my feet as a child was a straight, perfect line.
But the path I walk now is a winding, twisting curve.
Life isn't like a scribble; it doesn't go the way you want it to.
Still, I managed to return to my starting point with my dream intact.
Even the grand circular gesture he made before him felt cool and confident, not arrogant.
His flow, diction, and voice were flawless. The man, who had initially been skeptical, now found himself cheering alongside his friend, completely captivated by the performance unfolding before him.
I have no intention of straying from the path I'm on, but
Even if I'm leaving, a little detour won't hurt, right?
I'll leave my mark here, a scribble for the ages,
To be remembered as a legend by all.
Yoon Eden raised one arm and spun around, his sports jersey billowing like a cape.
Hammer the stage? More like leave a legend. The idol rapper, whom the man had dismissed as a mud-stirring loach in the hip-hop scene, was about to live up to his lyrics.
"Why the hell did that bastard even become an idol?"
With a hollow laugh, the man pressed the button again. The Fight Money counter exploded once more, mirroring the fervor in his expression.
The stifling heat of the cramped venue.
The roar of the crowd, directed entirely at me.
The pounding beat, threatening to burst my heart.
"Hey DJ, drop that beat! Let's go!"
I spat out the final line of my featured verse and gazed out at the front of the stage.
The scene superimposed itself with the memory of that stage I'd once stood on as a teenager, barely stepping into the hip-hop underground.
Who could have imagined that the fifteen-year-old rookie who could barely spit four lines behind his Crew Hyungs before dropping the mic would one day be headlining a featured performance on the Drop The Beat Semifinal stage?
My Original Intent Score remained unscathed, thanks to my clever trick of replacing "존나" (fucking) with "좋나" (damn). After all, they sound the same.
There were no mistakes. Even I had to admit that today's performance showcased 120% of my abilities.
Yongcheol Hyung, who had somehow appeared beside me, sang the hook and grinned at me.
I raised the microphone again, adding ad-libs and swaying lightly to the rhythm.
It felt strangely liberating to be grooving on stage instead of performing choreographed moves.
Was this the kind of performance Yongcheol Hyung had always envisioned? Though it was more of a feature than a true duet, the ED.I collaboration he had talked about so much during our underground days had finally come to fruition after all these years.
As the melody and beat gradually faded, signaling the end, Yongcheol Hyung and I sang the final lines together.
"Hey, friend, there's no need to feel pressured. Just grab it and scribble however you want. You never know—maybe a masterpiece will emerge from those scribbles."
I lowered the microphone from my lips and gasped for breath. The thick air clinging to my skin and the deafening roar of the crowd felt surreal, like a dream.
It wasn't until I stepped off the stage that I realized I was drenched in sweat.
As I roughly swept my sweat-soaked bangs off my forehead with my sleeve, Yongcheol Hyung ruffled my hair with a towel emblazoned with the Drop The Beat logo, shaking it vigorously as he said, "See, you punk! What did I tell you? I said you were born for this stage!"
Hearing the complete lack of regret in Hyung's voice as he spoke about the stage we had just left, I finally relaxed and smiled back at him.
"Hey! How can you do even better than you did during rehearsal?!"
LilP, who was waiting backstage for his turn, clutched his head and pretended to sob dramatically.
After offering him a casual encouragement for his upcoming performance, we returned to the waiting room side-by-side. Baek immediately rushed over and hugged us both tightly, shouting excitedly, "You guys killed it! You absolutely tore up the stage!"
As soon as Baek released us, Skit, another producer, began pounding our backs repeatedly, congratulating us over and over until my back felt numb.
"Thanks, Eden," Hyung said.
"What? I'm the one who should be thanking you for letting me perform on such a stage."
Yongcheol Hyung and I exchanged a light hug and bumped shoulders, neither of us wanting to be the first to let go.
After taking off our jackets and settling into the sofa in our short-sleeved shirts, we watched LilP's performance on the monitor in the waiting room.
"Wow, look at those arm muscles! Are all idols built like that?"
"They're all different. But could you stop squeezing my arm? It's making it hard to focus on the stage."
As I shook off Baek's hand, which had been pressing firmly into my arm, and grumbled, Baek slapped me on the back.
"Hey, hey! No matter how high LilP flies, he'll never surpass this. You should have heard the screams echoing through the waiting room when you sang your first line, Eden!"
"I recorded that."
As if he'd been waiting for this moment, Skit immediately played the video. Seeing myself on the monitor, straining with all my might, felt strangely unfamiliar.
Baek's near-hysterical laughter almost drowned out the screams, but the reaction was undeniable.
"Prepare for the D.I results announcement!"
At the staff member's call, who knocked and burst through the door, everyone rose to their feet, led by Yongcheol Hyung.
"Ah, why am I so nervous?"
"What's there to be nervous about? Just prepare your acceptance speech for making it to the finals."
Chuckling, I nudged Yongcheol Hyung forward, then paused as I caught sight of someone's face through the waiting room door.
📝 Translator’s Note:
You may notice that certain lines or phrases in this novel appear both in their original Korean (or Hanja) form and in English translation.
This is intentional — these phrases are classical idioms, divine titles, or poetic expressions that carry layered meanings.
To preserve their original tone and authenticity, the raw text has been kept for reference, while the English interpretation is provided right before or after it. This helps convey both the literal and cultural nuance of the original work.
but if you guys dont want tha raw for future chapters or my future other novels u can just text me on discord and say so discord name Mr.Penny