The Collab
“If any of you have been watching my stream for a while, you’ve surely heard the phrase ‘categorical imperative’ from Kant. If any of my regulars are here right now—anyone remember what that means?”
“An excellent student who sets a fine example for the rest. The balding is unfortunate, but… in any case, shall we try turning the mercy Hina-nim just spoke of into a universal law?”
“Uh… a universal law?”
Hina-nim repeated my words, sounding flustered.
“Yes. The rule that says, ‘If you are sad because you broke up with your lover, you may abandon your social responsibilities at any time.’ Suppose your parents need surgery right this moment, and the doctor refuses to enter the operating room because he is drowning in the sorrow of a breakup. Are we then supposed to magnanimously forgive that doctor? If everyone neglected their duties for personal reasons, society would collapse.”
I glanced at the chat reactions for a moment, then continued.
“A group project is a miniature social contract. To unilaterally tear up that contract simply because of emotional turbulence—that is, a temporary hormonal imbalance—is something only a beast would do. If you truly care for that teammate, you must ruthlessly strike their name and make them feel the price of irresponsibility. Forcing them to confront reality through that pain—that is the only form of mercy that can make a thoroughly weak teammate even slightly more human.”
“Ehhhh…”
“My advice: remove that teammate’s name at once and report them to the professor.”
The mood in chat had completely swung my way.
This was clearly a fight Hina-nim would struggle to win—unless the teammate’s reason for dropping out was something as extreme as a parent’s death.
“Ehhhh… you’re right, but still… can’t we just let it slide this once…? Our viewers… if Hina has to end the stream tomorrow just to do the group project… that would make me so saaad…”
Whoa.
That voice tone…
It was an absolutely devastating amount of aegyo.
Hina-nim’s avatar switched to a face with big tears rolling down its cheeks.
“Appealing to emotion after losing the logical argument is the sort of thing only Sophists used to do… Hina-nim, you really ought to read Schopenhauer’s The Art of Controversy. In that book you’ll find…”
I was about to coldly point out Hina-nim’s fallacy and continue when I casually checked the chat—and saw it flowing in a direction completely different from what I had expected.
At the same time, the previously neck-and-neck vote gap between Angel (Hina) and Demon (Unknown) began to swing wildly, and the Angel’s vote count surged.
“Alright~ one minute left until voting ends! Professor! Anything you want to say in the last minute?”
Hina-nim’s voice had suddenly become full of confidence.
These little…!
I finally understood.
From the very beginning, there had never been any chance of me winning.
I let out a sigh.
“Anything to say… You are all currently demonstrating, in real time, the most horrific facet of democracy.”
“In 399 BC, the masses of Athens voted to make Socrates drink the hemlock. What you are doing right now is not one inch different. You are abandoning reason and truth for nothing more than the absurd desire to hear me sing, are you not?”
“Everyone… do not become a satisfied pig. Become a dissatisfied Socrates. Are you really going to sell off your reason for a single song and start oinking like pigs? If you pride yourselves on being intellectuals, stop voting for Hina-nim this instant.”
“Alright~! Voting is closed! The winner of Angel VS Demon Round One is…!”
Along with Hina-nim’s voice, the results appeared on screen.
Angel 88%
Demon 12%
“Waaaah! Angel victory! Once again we have proof that what moves the hearts of the masses isn’t cold logic, but warm emotion!”
Hina-nim celebrated in a playful voice.
I had argued with genuine passion, so I slumped my shoulders a little in dejection.
“Don’t worry! Angel versus Demon is best two out of three! There are still two more stories left!”
I had a feeling the result would be the same no matter what… but since I’d already come this far, I might as well give it my all.
And so I threw myself into the debate with everything I had, yet…
“In the end, you have surrendered to the herd mentality. A regrettable affair…”
And then came rounds two and three…
The vote results were catastrophic.
Ugh…
If the hemlock cannot be avoided, then one must simply drink it.
Jeong Eun-gyeol’s singing ability was already guaranteed; I would drink that poison cup properly, so thoroughly that the audience would be left in awe.
I brought the microphone close to my lips and thought.
Why do humans sing and listen to songs?
Music is…
No—all art, including music, inspires the person who sees or hears it and draws them into deep immersion.
What makes music special among the arts is its abstract nature.
Music does not exist physically.
Of course it can exist in the form of a score, but a score is not sound.
Music appears the moment it is performed and vanishes the moment the performance ends.
That is why the inspiration music gives is more abstract than other arts—and correspondingly more intense.
Schopenhauer said that music is the direct expression of the very essence of the world—the “Will” itself.
In other words, a singer at the moment of performance is revealing their own will in the most straightforward way possible.
Of course, that assumes they are singing with effective vocal technique.
In my previous life I had almost no talent for singing.
I wasn’t tone-deaf or rhythm-deaf, but I never rose above ordinary civilian level.
By contrast, Jeong Eun-gyeol’s body was perfectly suited to expressing both vocal range and emotion.
But right now, singing with Jeong Eun-gyeol’s talent—whose song was this, really?
Did it belong to Jeong Eun-gyeol, the owner of the talent, or to me, the owner of the will?
That was why I hesitated for a moment before starting to sing.
…Well, it wasn’t a question that would ever have an answer.
In the first place, overthinking this much over a single song felt like overkill.
Enough talk. Just sing.
Anyway, so my song choice was…
It wasn’t as if I had chosen the song carelessly.
I wasn’t an idiot; I knew what the people watching my stream—or Hina-nim’s stream—liked.
Blindly singing some ’80s or ’90s track I personally enjoyed would have been a genuine nuisance to Hina-nim.
Singing an anime song also felt a bit too much pressure.
So what I prepared was this Japanese song.
It was one I had liked even when I was a man, and fortunately it existed in this world as well.
“Aiming’s ‘Daisy Gold.’”
“Ooooh. We finally get to hear the professor’s singing! I’ll put it on right away.”
We had already discussed what song I would use for the penalty performance, so the accompaniment would start soon.
A moment later, the clear sound of a synthesizer and guitar accompaniment began to pour from the speakers.
The intro ended; the opening verse.
For the first time, Jeong Eun-gyeol’s voice would be heard by more than ten thousand viewers.
How would it go?
I drew a light breath and released the first note.
The original singer also had a husky yet clear tone, so it meshed absurdly well with Jeong Eun-gyeol’s voice.
But it didn’t feel like a mere cover.
Where the original was bright and hopeful, “Daisy Gold” sung in Jeong Eun-gyeol’s voice carried a pleading, story-laden power.
I could see the scroll speed of the chat slow down noticeably.
Proof that everyone was focusing on my voice.
Past the bridge and into the highlight.
♩♪♫♬~♩♪♫♬~
The parts I focused on most while singing were emotional expression and tone color.
“Waaah…!”
Hina-nim’s gasp of admiration.
I sneaked a look at the chat.
Hmm.
Everyone was too busy being amazed.
Buoyed by the viewers’ praise, I polished off the remaining verses perfectly.
Not a single note wavered; not once did my breath fall short.
If anything, knowing I was singing in front of more than ten thousand people made me perform far better than usual.
After the song ended, I brought my lips to the mic and murmured,
“The taste of the hemlock… was not entirely unpleasant. How was it? Did you enjoy the song?”
Bam-ba-ba-ba-bam! Di-ri-ri-ring! Bam-ba-ba-bam-bam!
And then the donations exploded like mad.
Hmm.
The performance appears to have been a success.