The Last Deathmatch
Recording had already stretched well past the three-hour mark.
The excitement and curiosity that had filled every face in the audience when they first stepped into the studio had long since given way to heavy fatigue.
“Ugh, my back is killing me…”
“When is this even going to end?”
All across the seats, people stretched or rubbed stiff necks. The relentless, dazzling stage lights had left eyes strained and dry, while the stagnant air of the sealed studio pressed down on everyone’s head like a weight. Even the provocative deathmatch format and the dazzling high notes of skilled singers had begun to wear on the ears after so many repetitions.
Yet not a single person left their seat. They forced their heavy eyelids open for one reason alone.
“All right! We now have only the grand finale of Round Three left—the final deathmatch!”
The MC’s booming voice cut through the thick air. In an instant, every slouched back in the audience straightened. Those who had been staring at their phones snapped their heads up.
“Finally.”
“This is what we waited three hours for.”
Fresh tension crackled through the exhausted crowd once more.
“Han Jiyoung! And the survivor of the wildcard round, Yoo Sia! Please come up to the stage!”
Yoo Sia took the first performance. Music filled the air, and she opened her mouth. She had chosen an R&B track that demanded explosive vocal power and deep emotional range. Soft gasps escaped the audience. Her voice, screaming through the high notes as if tearing something from her chest, slammed into the minds of spectators who had been sinking into boredom.
“Whoa, she’s really sharpened her blade for this.”
“Personality aside, you can’t deny the talent.”
When the stage ended, Sia bowed deeply, chest heaving. Generous applause poured from the seats. The judges nodded along, offering nothing but praise.
Now the ball was in Han Jiyoung’s court.
“Next up, defending her position—contestant Han Jiyoung!”
Jiyoung settled alone before the stand microphone at center stage and lightly plucked a guitar string.
Jing— ring—
After a quick tune-up and mic check, she gave the staff a small nod. Soft accompaniment began to drift from the speakers, gently breaking the heavy silence that had wrapped the studio.
The moment that familiar, lyrical intro filled the air, the judges’ panel burst into knowing smiles as if on cue. Kim Taesung crossed his arms and nodded without a word.
She’s doing it live. I was curious whether she could match the original.
Kang Soyoung clasped her hands together and let out an admiring sigh.
“Ohhh, she’s really bringing this out here?!”
Her eyes sparkled with thick anticipation, as though her heart was already racing to see how the stage would unfold. Terry Oh’s eyes went round behind his orange-tinted sunglasses, mouth falling open.
“Waaah—! Insane.”
Park Jinwoo, by contrast, had already closed his eyes, as if determined to savor every note without distraction.
This was the stage everyone had been waiting for. Her signature song—until now only heard through the recording and short broadcast clips—performed live.
Among the audience holding their breath so as not to miss a single sound, a few recognized the melody first and clapped hands over their mouths.
“Holy shit… it’s On the Road…!”
“We’re getting this live? No way…”
In one corner of the heated audience, an entertainment reporter who had been pretending to be an ordinary spectator snapped his eyes wide. He hurriedly pulled a laptop from his backpack, set it on his knees, and began typing like a madman.
And then, at last, Jiyoung’s voice rode the stand microphone and filled the hall.
The expressions of the audience softened, melting into something distant and wistful, as if by magic.
“What is this… why does my heart feel so calm?”
“The recording never captured this. The texture of her voice is completely different…”
Some closed their eyes and wiped away tears. Others gazed at Jiyoung on stage with faraway eyes, as if replaying their own pasts.
The emotional line of the song gradually deepened, rising toward the true highlight—the part people rewound most often, the section that spiked the YouTube rewatch graph.
Please tell me all those days on the road...
The instant those lyrics left the speakers, the entire audience felt as if the stifling studio walls had crumbled away and they were standing deep in the middle of a forest. Somewhere, the phantom sound of nameless birdsong seemed to circle. A cool, clear stream felt as though it were flowing gently past their feet.
Take my hand.
As the song entered its latter half, a deep pleading quality entered Jiyoung’s voice.
Every road will lead you home.
With the final phrase, Jiyoung slowly drew her lips away from the microphone. The last lingering resonance of the guitar string she plucked became the song’s outro, drifting through the studio air before fading away.
The song was completely over, yet the audience could not return to reality so easily.
“It’s already over…?”
“No way. Did time really pass that fast? It felt like it just started.”
“She’s a monster live. Seriously.”
Someone began clapping as if under a spell. That became the signal. Cheers and a standing ovation erupted so loud it seemed the studio walls might give way. The faces that had been steeped in fatigue were now filled with deep emotion and wonder.
It was not only the audience who had been overwhelmed. The judges’ panel, too, sat in deep silence. Even those who always analyzed stages with sharp eyes had forgotten their duty for those four minutes and become pure spectators.
Only when the roar of cheers washed over them did the dazed judges return to reality, one by one taking their microphones.
Park Jinwoo, who had kept his eyes closed, opened them slowly and let out a dry laugh.
“I don’t usually say things like this in audition comments… but today I came to judge and somehow left feeling healed instead. It was simply a perfect piece of art.”
Terry Oh fidgeted with his orange sunglasses, still unable to contain his awe.
“I thought time had stopped. One singer with one guitar completely dominated the air in this massive space. Jiyoung, your live is truly spine-chilling.”
Kang Soyoung lightly wiped the corner of her reddened eyes with the back of her hand and smiled brightly.
“Why the public keeps seeking out Jiyoung’s songs—today’s stage proved it perfectly. Thank you so much for this performance.”
Last to take the mic, Kim Taesung fell silent for a moment as if choosing his words carefully.
“Why the public goes wild for the name Han Jiyoung… this stage showed the reason in the most overwhelming way possible. Well done.”
As all four judges poured out high praise, Yoo Sia, standing in the opposing waiting area, met Jiyoung’s eyes and smiled.
The result was, of course, my victory.
After confirming it, Sia simply nodded with a calm face—an expression free of lingering attachment, as if she had already expected it.
Then the MC adjusted his grip on the microphone, glanced around carefully, and turned his gaze toward Sia.
“Contestant Yoo Sia, truly a regrettable result. Actually, I recall the two of you had a bit of trouble in the previous round. Now that you’ve faced each other one-on-one like this, how are you feeling?”
This guy is determined to fan the flames.
Just like the broadcast people who never hesitated to use devil’s editing for ratings, he was clearly fishing for a spicy shot until the very end.
I reflexively stared hard at Sia’s lips.
Please don’t say anything weird.
She was already the type to spit out whatever was on her mind without a filter. If she went off the rails again here and ran her mouth, things would get exhausting for real.
The moment Sia started to bring the mic to her lips, I quickly raised mine first.
“Sia and I cleared up all that misunderstanding back then.”
I turned a perfectly broadcast-ready, soft smile toward the cameras.
“The editing came out a little spicy, but I hope the viewers will just enjoy the show as a show.”
Then I naturally turned my head toward Sia and added one more line.
“And Sia—your stage today was really good.”
Faced with my ironclad defense, the MC gave an awkward laugh.
“Ah… yes, I see. I’m truly glad the two of you have warmed up to each other.”
I thought the situation would pass without further trouble—until Sia finally brought the microphone to her mouth after all.
Ah, please no.
I squeezed my eyes shut inside.
“I did my best…”
Sia looked straight at me as she spoke.
“And the person whose recognition I wanted most… recognized me. I’m happy. Thank you.”
That short remark, packed tight with sincerity, brought a brief, pleasant stillness over the studio. Then—
“Waaaaaah—!!”
Clap clap clap clap clap—!
Heartfelt applause and cheers burst from the audience.
“Wow, what a truly moving moment. Then how about the two of you wrap this warm atmosphere up beautifully with a hug?”
“……What?”
We weren’t exactly on cuddling terms in front of the public yet, were we?
I started to take a half-step back in flustered retreat—when Sia’s answer rang out loud and clear through the mic.
“Sounds good!”
My body locked up. The top of Sia’s head—she was a little shorter than me—settled snugly against my shoulder and the upper part of my chest. I could feel every camera lens in the studio zooming in on us, red tally lights flashing.
……Haa, seriously.
I lowered the arms that had been floating awkwardly in midair and gently wrapped them around Sia’s back.
“……You did well, Sia.”
When I patted her back, a small murmur from within my arms tickled my ear.
“Thank you so much, unnie.”
And so my Round Three stage came to a perfect, warm close—complete with an unexpected, heartfelt hug.