Chapter 54
Chapter 54
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 54
Chapter Title: Is the Writer Omnipotent?
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“Long time no see, Writer-nim!”
“Yes, have you been well?”
Tae-seong shook hands with Representative Kwon.
“I’ve been doing great, all thanks to you, Writer-nim. That said, it feels like it’s been ages since we last met one-on-one.”
“Yeah, it has.”
“That’s because you’ve been so busy, Writer-nim. Don’t push yourself too hard—you might ruin your health.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Anyway, enough standing around. Let’s go grab a meal.”
“Sure.”
The two moved to a different spot.
They shared a meal at a nearby Japanese restaurant, their conversation blooming like flowers.
“I hear the response to the drama adaptation of Otherworld Chef has been explosive lately. Thanks to that, e-book and print sales have shot up.”
“I see.”
“I’m a fan myself, and I really think you nailed the concept. Our genre isn’t exactly easy to adapt for visual media, after all.”
“It takes a huge production budget. I wrestled with that a lot when planning Otherworld Chef as a drama.”
“Exactly. That’s why most productions stick to modern stories. But thanks to you showing a new way forward, things are starting to shift lately.”
“The tide’s turning?”
“Yeah, a few productions are showing interest in fantasy novels now. There are even some works with contracts in the works.”
“That’s great news.”
A growing market was always welcome.
The bigger the pie, the more challengers it attracted.
And more challengers meant better works would emerge.
Before they knew it, their conversation had carried them through the meal, leaving a pile of empty bowls.
“Since it’s been so long, how about a beer?”
“Sounds good. Know any good spots?”
“Yeah, there’s a place I go with other writers sometimes. I’ll lead the way.”
They followed Representative Kwon to a nearby live bar.
The mellow atmosphere was nice.
They ordered light snacks and beer, then dove back into conversation.
“Great vibe here.”
“Isn’t it? A writer friend of mine who loves quiet spots recommended it.”
“Sounds like someone with tastes like mine. I’d love to meet them sometime.”
He meant it.
The bar’s atmosphere hit Tae-seong’s preferences dead-on.
Soft music played, and the patrons savored the mood.
The snacks were tasty, too.
Above all, the overall feel of the place was perfect.
Finding a spot this spot-on was rare.
“You’ll like it even more in a bit.”
“What’s coming up?”
“Singers come on stage and perform. They’re all really talented.”
“I see.”
It was a live bar, so singers were par for the course.
Hearing they were skilled got him excited.
“Last time I was here, this one female singer came out and absolutely crushed it. I’m a sucker for husky voices, and hers was perfect.”
“I like that tone, too.”
“Haha! Perfect. I saw when we came in—they’ve got her down for a live set tonight.”
“Really? Looking forward to it.”
A husky voice was one of Tae-seong’s favorites.
So he waited eagerly for the singer Representative Kwon had mentioned.
A short while later.
A young woman, looking almost childlike, stepped onto the stage carrying a guitar as big as she was.
“Oh, there she is.”
“That her?”
“Yeah, she’s small but sings with real power. What stuck with me was how she handled the songs without flashy techniques. And her emotional delivery was top-notch.”
“I see.”
Tae-seong watched the woman as Representative Kwon explained.
She let out a deep breath, like she was nervous, set up her instrument, and took a seat. Then she introduced herself.
“Um… hello. I’m Sia, the singer performing for you today. Nice to meet you!”
For a moment, Tae-seong doubted his ears.
Sia?
‘Is that really her?’
He pulled out his smartphone and searched her on a portal site.
He had her album but had never seen her face.
It wasn’t on the album jacket, either.
Fortunately, her photo came up on the site.
‘It’s her.’
She matched the woman on stage exactly.
‘You never know with this world.’
He’d lived many lives, but connections between people still baffled him.
That’s what made life fun—coincidences like this.
“The first song I’ll sing is Breakup, the title track from my debut album.”
Not the happiest choice, he thought.
Soon her fingers strummed the guitar, and a beautiful voice flowed from her lips.
The opening was solid.
The gentle melody meshed with her rich, emotive tone, creating synergy.
But the midpoint was the problem.
As it built to the climax, multiple instruments layered in, failing to showcase her voice properly.
She started showing off techniques, prioritizing skill over feeling.
Focusing on technique eroded the emotion.
In the end, the early emotional pull shattered.
A song that didn’t play to her strengths as a singer couldn’t move hearts.
“This is awkward to say after hyping her up, but she’s off tonight.”
Tae-seong wasn’t the only one who thought so.
“Totally different from last time. Back then, she nailed the emotion…”
“Fuck, she sings like shit.”
The quiet mood shattered.
The song stopped, and all eyes turned to one spot.
A man in a suit stood there.
His flushed face showed he was hammered.
A mountain of empty beer bottles on his table told the tale.
“With skills like that, what makes you think you’re a singer?”
“I’m… sorry…”
“Fuck! If you’re sorry, don’t sing!”
He staggered toward the stage.
His menacing approach drew staff over.
“Sir, this is a problem.”
“Problem? My ears are bleeding from that garbage singing—what’re you gonna do about it? How do you compensate me?”
It was bullshit.
Drunken bravado.
He’d forget it tomorrow, but his words hurt someone.
Sia, unused to this, was in tears.
“That’s too much.”
“Yeah. Can’t just sit here.”
“Huh?”
Tae-seong stood up.
He walked toward the man and the staff.
Now all eyes were on him.
It felt like a hero of justice had arrived.
But Tae-seong ignored the stares and went straight to Sia.
“You okay?”
“Th-thank you.”
She wiped her tears with the handkerchief he offered.
The man tried to pick a fight, but his friends held him back.
“Sorry, he’s wasted.”
“Our apologies.”
The commotion settled with their apologies.
But the good vibe was gone.
Worst of all, Sia was deeply wounded.
‘I should… quit…’
The failed album had already crushed her confidence.
She knew better than anyone she wasn’t the same as before.
This was the dagger to her heart.
She had no courage left to sing.
She prepared to leave the stage.
That’s when Tae-seong spoke.
“How about one more song?”
“Huh? No… I’m done… I’ll go…”
“Don’t. Just one more, please.”
Tae-seong smiled as he said it.
He was handsome, she thought.
More than that, his voice rang true.
“But…”
“I’ll play guitar for you.”
He picked up her guitar.
“Nice guitar.”
“Th-thank you.”
Twang!
His fingers lightly plucked the strings.
A clear, beautiful sound rang out.
“We’ll do Breakup.”
“Huh? That song…”
She lacked confidence.
It was a good song, but its failure haunted her.
With multiple instruments in the mix, guitar alone couldn’t capture it.
“It’s fine. Give it a shot.”
But Tae-seong smiled and started playing.
The intro kicked in, so Sia sang on reflex.
‘How does he know my song?’
It puzzled her as she sang.
Her debut album had bombed hard.
Few knew the track.
Sure, she’d just sung it, but it wasn’t a one-listen-and-play deal.
Yet this guy played it flawlessly.
The intro ended, moving to the midpoint.
‘Huh?’
It was different.
This part got complex with layered instruments and techniques to highlight each.
During recording, the composer had taught her these flourishes, leaving her in awe.
She’d matched them in her vocals to keep up.
It was tough, but the composer said true singers needed that skill, so she pushed.
That built her confidence.
Until the album flopped and shattered it.
Worse, she’d forgotten how she used to sing it.
She couldn’t recapture that old feel.
A brutal slump set in, eroding her confidence.
She couldn’t even do events anymore.
Her rep said time would heal it, but she couldn’t find that spark.
Yet…
‘This take on the song…’
It was Breakup, but nothing like the original.
No techniques at all.
It simply conveyed what she meant to express.
Just like how she used to sing it.
“My voice… never reached you in the end…”
It covered the full arc, but her tone stayed steady.
That made it sadder.
Calling out to a departing lover, knowing the voice wouldn’t reach—it tore at everyone’s hearts.
At the climax, her high note exploded, but no techniques.
Just raw delivery.
She let her voice pour out plainly.
Twang!
The song ended.
Silence blanketed the bar.
No one could speak.
Intoxicated by her voice, they relived their own breakups, hearts aching.
Some sensitive souls were even crying.
Seeing this, Sia couldn’t tell if it was real or a dream.
Audiences crying to her song?
How to make sense of this dreamlike moment?
Then Tae-seong looked at her.
“You did great.”
“Ah… no… I…”
“You’ve got an amazing voice. Better to let it shine on its own than pile on unnecessary techniques.”
“Ah…”
She’d heard that before.
Back when she’d just started singing.
‘Your voice is beautiful. Singing to showcase it is the way to go.’
Words from a senior she admired.
They’d lost touch, but she’d believed them and sung accordingly.
Until she forgot.
“Th-thank you… Are you in the industry, by any chance?”
She meant the music biz.
Tae-seong smiled at the question.
“No, I’m a writer.”