Monsters in the Making
“If you hear them live just once... those doubts will completely vanish. They’re absolute monsters, I tell you. Monsters.”
“Monsters? To that extent?”
At Deputy General Manager Ikeda’s confident assertion, Kato rubbed his forehead a few times. As a member of the promotional team, it was only natural for Ikeda to hype up his own artists. Kato understood that perfectly well. But there was a limit to how much one should exaggerate. To call kids who had barely entered their twenties "monsters" was a bit much.
“Didn’t the Beatles and Jimi Hendrix start their real journeys in their early twenties as well?”
“No, what on earth are you talking about? Calling them monsters is just a metaphor. You can’t compare them to those god-tier bands...”
“Hmph, just a joke. But still, hearing you call them monsters makes me wonder. Just how good are they that Deputy Manager Ikeda of Zenith Music, a veteran who has grown old in the music industry, is calling them monsters?”
As Kato finished speaking with a skeptical tone, Ikeda opened his mouth with a slightly flustered expression.
“Well, Producer. The... the band’s leader, Miss Ha Suyun... she actually appeared on Super Guitarist before and proved her skills. Her talent was already verified back then...”
Hearing that, Kato frowned and looked at the materials again. Super Guitarist? If she had appeared on that show, he would have remembered. There had been some talk about it a while ago...
“Super Guitarist? Hmm... Ah! That female guitarist, is it her? The one who was incredibly good.”
“Yes, she appeared on it then,” Ikeda said, nodding.
Kato rubbed his temples as he thought. The performance she had shown back then... seemed completely impossible for her age. It was truly something that "transcended time."
“I didn’t know she was in a band... No, wait, she did say she was in a band back then. Come to think of it, aren’t they the ones who gave that cheeky interview at Rock in Japan?”
“That’s right. Back then, they...”
Listening to Ikeda chime in, Kato searched his memory and recalled that interview. He had thought they were incredibly bold, but he had also brushed it off, thinking that an indie band ought to have that kind of grit.
“But to think those kids have already made their major debut and sold nearly a hundred thousand copies. I see why you’re so confident, Deputy Manager Ikeda. They’ve sold a massive number of albums, they’re highly skilled, and they’ve made a name for themselves...”
“Indeed. They are a rookie band that Zenith Music can confidently present. Well, they aren’t complete rookies since they’ve been active in Korea as well...”
Kato raised a hand to stop him, then spoke.
“But I still don’t think they’re at the level of being called ‘monsters.’”
“...No, Producer. ‘Monsters’ is just a metaphor...”
“Group Sound, right. Ha Suyun? There’s no doubt she’s good at guitar. I’ve only seen her on YouTube, but her playing is indeed monstrous. But what about the others?”
Kato believed that people in the music industry should remain objective. Ha Suyun was a monster, sure. But what about her bandmates?
“Bands that ride on the coattails of one outstanding, famous member are surprisingly common. And it’s common for that member’s skill to be mistaken for the band’s overall skill. In that sense, you might call them monsters, but at least between us, we should call a spade a spade...”
“Excuse me, Producer.”
Ikeda cut off Kato’s continuous stream of words.
“Take a look. The other girls... of course, they might not be quite at Ha Suyun’s level. But they are all incredibly talented kids.”
As Ikeda spoke, his face was filled with immense confidence. It wasn’t the empty, corporate hype of a company claiming their artist was the best, but the genuine confidence that only someone who had witnessed the truth could possess.
“Hello~”
“He... hello.”
Even after recording their studio album, Out of Time, there was still a mountain of work to do. They had to shoot music videos, review contracts, take promotional photos, and so on. Only after spending days that felt even busier than the album production itself did the members of Group Sound finally get some rest.
But the hectic schedule they had endured left a strong lingering restlessness, making them feel strangely uncomfortable even while resting. It wasn’t as if they had run away from their schedule or postponed their practice, but an inexplicable pressure gripped the three members—excluding Suyun.
(The reason Suyun was excluded was because she was a creature who never rested in the first place.)
And that was exactly why Iseor turned on an Instagram Live. She had dragged Hyuna, who happened to be in the dorm, and made her sit next to her.
“It’s been so long! How long has it been? We didn’t turn it on before working on the album, and before that... oh, we didn’t turn it on during Tokyo Wheels either. I think we definitely did when we came to Japan last year.”
“Um... I’ll be going now...”
“What are you talking about? Our fans are right here, we need to communicate with them. Right, everyone?”
Although the stream had just started and there weren’t many comments yet, the viewer count was rising rapidly, as if many people had been waiting.
Iseor swept her hair back and held onto Hyuna, who kept trying to slip away.
“Unni, why do you keep trying to go somewhere else? As a member, you should do the broadcast with me.”
“Ah, but still... I should at least put on some makeup...”
“Technology is so good these days, why worry? The filters adjust everything in real-time. You don’t need to put anything on your face.”
After completely thwarting Hyuna’s escape attempts, Iseor rested her chin on her hand and read the incoming chat messages. I’ve been waiting, when is the new song coming out? (“It’s already out...”), how is Japan? and so on.
“Life in Japan has its ups and downs. The good things? Hmm... just the feeling of living in a foreign country? It’s not like we’re going to live here forever anyway. How should I put it? Everything from the paving blocks to the pedestrian signal sounds is different, so even after living here for a few months, it still feels like we’re on a trip. It’s exciting. What about you, Unni?”
“I, I... just, well... Japan is nice. Hehe.”
“No, I asked what is nice about it.”
“Nice things, nice things... Ah, it only takes about 30 minutes... to get to Akiba? Nakano... takes 30 minutes by bicycle. It’s really great.”
“What’s in Nakano?”
“You’ve... never been to Nakano?”
“Is there any reason to go? I’ve been to Akiba a few times, but not Nakano.”
At Iseor’s reply, Hyuna clicked her tongue softly and muttered, “...Fake.”
A fake? What did that mean? Was she calling Iseor a fake?
“Wait. I think I just heard something I can’t ignore. I’m a fake? A fake otaku?”
“In the first place, speaking so... proudly... about being an otaku... at that point... it’s clear you’re a fake. Total poser.”
“Wow, that is incredibly unfair.”
“Everyone, I’ve watched plenty of anime too! Sakamoto, Haikyuu, Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun, Aono-kun, Tokyo Revengers, Bocchi the Rock!, Girls Band Cry, Kaiju No. 8, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Demon Slayer, Spy x Family...”
“Ahem, anyway!”
Seeing that the Instagram comments were only going in an unfavorable direction, Iseor cleared her throat and tried to steer the conversation toward another topic. For example, their new album.
“Korean album sales? Ah, I heard about that. Around 23,000 copies...? I think they said. Come to think of it, we recently got our first payout calculation. How much? I can’t tell you the exact amount, but...”
Iseor recalled that moment. Even though it was the amount before taxes, the net album sales payout from Korea and Japan—excluding copyrights—was around 80 million won. It was such a mind-boggling sum that she remembered calling her mother with trembling hands.
“So, since we got paid, I dragged this Unni to Ochanomizu.”
“Hehe... it was so funny.”
“I mean, I didn’t know! When we go to Ochanomizu, we usually go to our regular shop. On the first floor, they don’t sell anything super expensive. Of course, there are plenty of things around 4 to 5 million won, but since those are our tools of the trade, it’s normal. Anyway, since we just got paid, I confidently walked into Kurosawa Instruments. They occupy an entire building. I walked in thinking, ‘I’m gonna buy the most expensive thing here in one go!’ That was the vibe, but...”
“My current one? I’ve been using a Rickenbacker 4001 and a Fender Japan Jazz Bass. I bought both used, so they were under 3 million won. Anyway, I walked in and asked, ‘How much is the most expensive bass!’ ready to buy it on the spot. But then I saw things priced at 5 million yen, 7 million yen hanging on the wall. It was insane.”
“Hehe... she was so flustered... it was hilarious watching her ask the clerk if it was real or just a display model...”
“They said they were all real! I mean, why would you display an instrument worth tens of thousands of dollars out in the open like that? Aren’t they worried someone will steal it?”
Iseor continued to chat on Instagram Live with Hyuna, who had loosened up a bit.
“This is my new instrument. Isn’t it pretty? It looks like a rice paddle? You, get out of my chat.”
She showed her newly purchased bass—a Warwick Thumb Fretless 4-string.
“What are you doing? Instagram Live?”
“Yeah. ...Look at her. This Unni is wearing her Dongmyo flea market fashion again. Right, everyone? It makes no sense. This time she came in wearing clothes covered in paint...”
“What did you just say?”
“This Unni always talks to me about fashion, but her own fashion sense is terrible. ...What? Have us do a fashion battle? That sounds good. I’m not worried. I have zero chance of losing.”
“Unbelievable, seriously.”
They bantered back and forth with Seoha, who had just walked in, sparking a minor war of nerves over fashion.
“Oh, by the way, we have a live performance coming up. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but we’re doing a radio show. It’s on FM-Wave, this Friday, on Sonar Music. I think our Japanese fans might know it.”
“It is our first live broadcast. If you want to listen, you can just tune in. Can’t you listen in Korea?”
“In Korea... you can’t listen to Japanese radio... They block the region...”
“Oh, really? Why is that? Well, I’m sure there’s a way to listen. Anyway, Japanese fans, please look forward to it. Listening at home is great, but coming to the venue to listen live is also good. I think they said it’s free. Not that it’s only worth listening to because it’s free, though.”
Iseor grinned as she spoke.
Ever since they were humbled by Strange Straight at Tokyo Wheels, Iseor, Hyuna, and Seoha had been practicing relentlessly, grinding their teeth. They did it to shed the label of "the band riding on Ha Suyun’s coattails."
“We’ll show you our true worth. All you have to do is keep your ears open.”
Iseor was no longer afraid to show the results of their brutal practice. In fact, she was excited. The time to prove themselves had finally come, and she couldn’t wait.
Time flew by, and the day of the Sonar Music special featuring Group Sound arrived.
“There are a lot of people here today.”
“Yeah.”
It was an outdoor studio with high foot traffic, not the usual indoor recording booth. But even considering that, the crowd was massive. In that situation, the staff set up the stage while chatting. Even with the crowd, the broadcast had to go on as scheduled.
“Is it because of the kids performing today?”
“Well, probably. There’s no other reason. People wouldn’t gather like this for nothing.”
“True, their song was really good. Was it ‘I’ll Wait’?”
“My mom said she liked that song too.”
Sharing such idle chatter, the staff moved the equipment around. Looking at the crowd, the age demographic was surprisingly diverse, which was a bit unusual.
“But I heard they’re performing for over an hour. Can they pull off an hour-long set? They’ve only released one album.”
“Who knows. They’ll figure it out. They wouldn’t have agreed to do it if they couldn’t.”
At his junior’s question, the senior staff member waved his hand and sent him off to finish setting up the stage. Looking at the crowd that had gathered, they absolutely did not have the luxury of slacking off.