A Miracle of Country Music
“Huff.”
Han Doyun gasped for rough breaths, wiping away the beads of sweat that kept dripping down. He slowly lifted his head and looked out at the audience. Beyond the bright lights pouring down, countless faces shimmered and swayed.
He was happy.
Country music had always been forced to hover at the fringes.
To stand on a stage this grand and glittering and present that music so boldly, in front of so many people—that alone felt like a miracle to him.
I wonder if they enjoyed it.
He steadied the swell in his chest and thought it to himself.
A fleeting silence hung in the air.
Then—
“Waaaaaaaaah—!!”
Applause and cheers exploded from the studio audience.
“Country music’s way better than I expected?”
“Right? I only came to see Han Jiyoung.”
“The lyrics hit something in your chest. I just got chills.”
“That repeating refrain is really good.”
The cascading applause gradually faded, and the studio returned to calm white lighting.
Standing center stage, Han Doyun still wore a flushed face as he adjusted his grip on the mic. One by one the judges picked up theirs.
Kim Taesung spoke first.
“Country is a double-edged sword, honestly. Misinterpret it even a little and it turns old and boring in a heartbeat, which is why most people never attempt it… but today’s stage was very smart. You handled it with real polish. Well done.”
Han Doyun bowed in gratitude at the praise from Kim Taesung, whose commercial instincts were razor-sharp.
Kang Soyoung took the mic next.
She studied Han Doyun carefully, a gentle smile on her face.
“I’ve been watching you since Round One, Doyun. Back then you always looked a little cowed, like you might tip over at any second. But today you looked truly confident, and I loved that. It feels like you’ve finally found your own color for sure.”
“Thank you. Truly, thank you.”
Han Doyun’s voice trembled ever so slightly.
Terry Oh’s warm remarks followed, and at last the camera locked onto one particular person.
It was singer-songwriter Park Jinwoo, who had saved Han Doyun with a Super Pass in Round One when he had been on the verge of elimination.
The cameras cut back and forth between Park Jinwoo’s expectant face and Han Doyun’s, still flooded with emotion.
Park Jinwoo asked with a smile he couldn’t hide,
“Han Doyun. Why didn’t you do this song in Round One? It’s this good.”
At the joking question, Han Doyun scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
“Ah… honestly, I hadn’t written it yet back then.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Park Jinwoo’s eyes went round.
“I figured it was a secret weapon you’d been saving. So it was a brand-new song? Anyway, I enjoyed it thoroughly. One thing I’ve been feeling while running Voice of Legend is that more and more contestants seem to level up as they go.”
The judges beside him nodded in deep agreement.
“I’m curious what let you grow this brilliantly in such a short time. Was there some special spark?”
Han Doyun’s lips parted as he seemed to search for the right words.
“As I mentioned in the pre-interview… it’s all thanks to contestant Han Jiyoung.”
In that instant, Han Jiyoung’s face filled the giant stage screen. She stared into the camera with wide rabbit eyes, startled by the sudden cut.
What? Why me all of a sudden?
She had known the waiting-room camera was on her, but she had never dreamed it would be blasted this huge across the stage display.
The moment her face occupied the entire board, the audience let out a collective gasp as if they had rehearsed it.
“Ooooh, it’s Han Jiyoung!”
“Whoa… she’s ridiculously pretty. Looks like she could walk right out of the screen.”
“No qipao today? Hmm…”
“Yeah. She looks really pure and fresh today.”
The MC skillfully rode the heated reaction in the house and stepped up beside Han Doyun.
“What kind of concrete help did contestant Han Jiyoung give you? I think the judges and the viewers at home are all dying to know.”
Han Doyun glanced once at the screen where Jiyoung was still showing, then continued in a voice thick with sincerity.
“She gave me a lot of musical feedback. She pointed out vocal details I’d been missing and the direction of the song. Because of that I got a huge jolt, and the creative hunger I’d forgotten about started boiling up again. The song I performed today, The Wonderful Barn, is something I truly believe only came into the world thanks to Jiyoung.”
Wait—how far are they zooming in?
Jiyoung’s smooth skin and the eyelashes trembling in fluster filled the ultra-high-definition board.
The MC nodded with satisfaction and wrapped the moment.
“I see. The friendship between you two really created a wonderful stage. Han Doyun’s The Wonderful Barn—we thoroughly enjoyed it.”
The MC prompted applause while scanning the audience seats.
“All right, shall we move on to the next stage that will carry this heat forward?”
Han Doyun exited, and his opponent took the stage.
After Han Doyun left a deep aftertaste and stepped off, his opponent came up and delivered a textbook ballad stage.
Before the studio’s heat could fully cool, the MC’s booming voice seized the room’s attention once more.
“All right! The results of Round Three’s first deathmatch are about to be revealed! Han Doyun and Kim Seongmin, please come up on stage!”
The lights slowly dimmed until twin pin-spots fell on the two men.
Their tense faces filled the cameras in turn, and above their heads the giant board first displayed the judges’ combined scores beside each name.
Han Doyun : 64 points
Kim Seongmin : 68 points
A mere four-point gap.
The judges had given a very slight edge to Kim Seongmin, who had delivered clean, textbook vocals.
Han Doyun checked the board and swallowed hard against a thirst that felt like his lips were on fire.
As expected… it’s not easy.
He had believed he’d left no regrets on stage, but facing the numbers made the wall of reality feel solid.
Country was a minor genre by nature. Climbing over the wall of Kim Seongmin, who had brought a comfortable, familiar ballad the public loved, looked impossible.
Then the MC raised the cue card in his hand high and shouted,
“All right! We’ve just finished tallying every vote from the live audience! Will this four-point gap be overturned, or will it solidify? Audience scores—reveal!”
The instant the MC finished, the two numbers on the board began climbing at terrifying speed with cheerful electronic pings.
Beep-beep-beep-beep—!
Of the two rising scores, Kim Seongmin’s stopped first at 85.
Han Doyun’s, however, kept soaring without pause.
Ding!
At last Han Doyun’s score locked in at 90. The public’s choice had overturned the judges’ evaluation.
“Round Three’s first deathmatch! The winner is Han Doyun!”
A bright, majestic victory BGM flooded the studio.
Han Doyun stared blankly at the board as if he couldn’t believe it, then bowed his head deeply, eyes reddening.
Kim Seongmin beside him smiled first and held out his hand.
“Congratulations, Doyun. Your stage was truly magnificent.”
Han Doyun took the offered hand with trembling fingers.
“You worked so hard too, Seongmin. Your singing… was really wonderful.”
The two men clapped each other on the back at center stage and exchanged sincere words of encouragement.
The moment Han Doyun’s victory was confirmed, the hallway outside the waiting rooms turned into a marketplace of noise.
Staff footsteps rushed past the walls—ushering the next contestants onstage, swapping sets, checking mics.
About twenty minutes, give or take.
I roughly calculated the time from when Han Doyun and Kim Seongmin finished their stages to the moment the winner was decided.
Twenty minutes per match. Twenty contestants advancing this round meant ten deathmatches.
Which meant I would have to endure at least three more hours in this cramped room before I set foot on that stage.
The order Kang PD had given me was dead last—tenth.
His intention was obvious, but from my seat it was pure torture.
Stage nerves were one thing for an hour or two; sitting around endlessly like this just drained every drop of energy.
“Haaah…….”
I let out a deep sigh and sank deeper into the sofa backrest.
I should’ve brought a game console.
I fidgeted with empty fingertips and waited for my turn that still felt impossibly far away.
Just as the boredom was about to hit its limit, a familiar face appeared on the waiting-room monitor.
It was Naeun.
She had almost zero composition ability, so for this mission she had chosen a cover.
The song was Romantic Puppy.
The original singer’s personality and color were so strong that it was a dangerous pick—easy to fall into mere imitation.
But the Naeun who stood on stage handled it so well that my worries felt foolish.
She seized the audience with her trademark bright energy and painted her own version of Romantic Puppy.
The judges praised her without holding back, saying she seemed to have learned how to unleash energy in a short time.
Well done, Kim Naeun.
I smiled a little at the monitor, proud of her.
That smile froze the second the next stage began.
Her opponent was musical-theater actor Kang Minhyuk.
The moment he stepped onstage he changed the air itself.
Vocal power, emotional delivery, and the eyes that pinned the audience’s gaze in place.
Without realizing it I sat with my mouth open, staring hard at the screen.
……Overwhelming.
Naeun’s stage, which I had been enjoying just moments before, diluted in my head almost instantly.
How powerfully that theatrical charisma unique to musical actors stamped itself into the public—I could feel it vividly even through the screen.
The judges’ scores came out fairly close.
But the match was ultimately decided in the hearts of the audience.
The live crowd raised their hands for Kang Minhyuk’s more stimulating, grander stage.
When the numbers on the board finally stopped, a red light of defeat glowed beside Naeun’s name.
“Hic, *sniffle*…….”
The close-up of Naeun’s face on the display was already a mess of tears.
She wiped them with her sleeve and left her final farewell.
“Jiyoung unni! *sob*, take my share too…… Unni, you absolutely have to win!!”
Why is everyone so desperate to shout me out?
Time flew by after that, and my turn on stage finally drew near.