23
## Chapter 23 — The Performance Battle of the Century
A prenatal engagement.
Just hearing the phrase sounded hopelessly outdated, but it was something Jia and I had actually been tied together by
when we were children.
Originally, our grandfathers intended to arrange it between their own children’s generation, but both families ended up
having only sons, so the order got pushed all the way down to us.
By coincidence, Jia and I were the same age—and opposite genders.
‘Hi, I’m Kim Jia.’
Our interests were similar too.
Of course, I played piano while Jia played violin, but we quickly became close through our shared love of classical
music.
Since we’d known each other from such a young age, there were never any romantic feelings between us.
And although our grandfathers had arranged the prenatal engagement, it was an old promise nobody truly expected us to
keep.
Instead, we built a friendship by playing piano and violin together, promising each other that we’d someday become the
greatest pianist and the greatest violinist.
Of course…
that relationship eventually drifted apart after I shut myself inside my room.
‘How many years has it been since I last saw Jia?’
Since I still refused to leave my room even after becoming an adult, our engagement naturally dissolved.
Jia visited me over and over afterward, but because I was ashamed of the person I’d become, I never once agreed to meet
her.
And now—
that same Jia was standing before me, challenging me to a performance battle.
“I personally believe the violin surpasses the piano as an instrument… so would you perhaps accept my small challenge?”
A performance battle.
Simply put, it was a duel where each performer showed off their skill and technique through music to determine a winner.
Jia had always loved these kinds of performance battles.
Especially as a violinist, she enjoyed challenging pianists the most.
“Uh…”
“Uh?”
I almost answered her sudden challenge before quickly snapping my mouth shut in shock.
‘Crap…’
No matter how many years had passed, Jia and I had spent well over a decade together.
The moment she heard my voice, she’d definitely recognize me.
‘That would literally kill me from embarrassment… If she finds out I’m inside this bread bag, I’ll probably die on the
spot.’
Absolutely determined not to let that happen, I quickly pulled out my notebook and pen and began communicating through
writing.
[Your sudden challenge surprised me.]
“…Ah! I was being rude. I’m sorry. But… um, is speaking uncomfortable for you?”
[My throat hurts.]
Fortunately, Jia seemed to accept my excuse and nodded understandingly.
“Sorry for making things inconvenient. Before anything else, I don’t think I introduced myself yet. Nice to meet you.
I’m Kim Jia.”
At her introduction, I hesitated briefly before writing in the notebook.
[I’m creep.]
“creep? Wait… are you perhaps the faceless pianist creep who rearranged *La Campanella*?”
[Y-You know about me?]
“Of course! Do you know how famous you are online right now?!”
Come to think of it, a lot of people *had* recorded me on their phones back when I played piano at the curry restaurant
in Gwangju.
But I was famous online?
‘…Nah, she’s probably exaggerating. It’s not like I did anything that amazing.’
Jia had always been kind to people.
Surely this was just another one of her naturally polite exaggerations.
As I brushed it off, Jia’s eyes sparkled brightly.
“Now that I know Bread Bag-nim is actually creep-nim, I’m even more excited. creep-nim, since fate brought us together
like this, how about having a performance battle with me?”
Honestly, there was no real reason for me to duel her.
I’d stopped playing piano for over ten years, while Jia was currently called Korea’s Paganini.
The difference in skill between us was obvious.
But—
“……”
Strangely enough, I couldn’t bring myself to refuse.
A performance battle.
It was the game Jia and I used to play countless times every single day when we were children.
And now, after so many years—
I wanted to play piano with my precious friend again, just like old times.
[Alright.]
“…!”
The moment I accepted through the notebook—
“Hehe, then shall we begin right away?”
—we began our first performance battle in years.
---
The rules of the performance battle were simple:
Who could perform a piece from the same theme better?
“What should the first piece be? Ah, there are plenty of spectators already—how about taking requests from the
audience?”
Nod.
creep silently nodded at Jia’s suggestion.
She immediately turned toward the crowd.
“We’re about to begin a performance battle. Does anyone here have a piece they’d like to hear?”
Murmur murmur.
Soon, someone timidly raised a hand and shouted:
“S-Schubert’s *Erlkönig*! Is that possible?”
Originally, Schubert’s *Erlkönig* was an art song requiring both a pianist and a vocalist.
But—
“*Erlkönig*… I’m fine with it. What about you, creep-nim?”
Nod.
The two geniuses agreed without hesitation.
“Then I’ll begin first.”
Wanting to show consideration toward her opponent, Kim Jia chose to perform first.
And then—
—♬♬♬ ♪♬♬♬
“Whoa……”
“No way……”
The iconic introduction to *Erlkönig*, familiar to almost everyone at least once in their lives, pierced through the
crowd’s ears.
People instantly became captivated by Kim Jia’s godlike performance.
The piece she played now wasn’t Schubert’s original *Erlkönig*—
but Ernst’s arrangement of *Erlkönig*.
Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst, often called Paganini’s only true rival and successor, had rearranged Schubert’s *Erlkönig* into
a solo violin work.
The violin’s uniquely clear tone transformed the dark urgency of *Erlkönig* into something lighter and sharper—
Dududududu—
making people almost hallucinate the sound of galloping horse hooves ringing in their ears.
And when the dramatic, tense, beautiful performance finally ended—
“WOOOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHH—!!”
“WAAAAAAAHHHHH—!!”
CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP—!!
The crowd exploded into wild applause at a level of performance rarely seen on the street.
Kim Jia herself smiled faintly, apparently satisfied with her playing.
“WHOOOOOO—!!”
“Wow… seriously, she’s Kim Jia for a reason…”
“Korea’s Paganini!”
The afterglow of a beautiful performance didn’t disappear easily.
People continued cheering endlessly for Kim Jia—
while simultaneously worrying about the next performer.
“Can that Bread Bag guy even compete with her…?”
“I mean, he was insanely good at piano earlier too… but still, there’s no way he beats Kim Jia.”
Most people believed creep had no chance against Kim Jia.
And honestly, Kim Jia felt similarly herself.
‘Did I go too hard right from the start?’
*Erlkönig* was absolutely not an easy piece.
Schubert’s original *Erlkönig*—and every arrangement derived from it—was notoriously difficult.
Kim Jia worried whether creep could properly handle such a demanding piece after receiving the request so suddenly.
But—
“……”
creep remained perfectly calm.
Because the bread bag completely hid his expression, he almost resembled an emotionless machine.
Scratch, scratch.
[If you’re finished, may I perform now?]
“Ah, yes! Of course! Please begin whenever you’re ready!”
Something about creep’s demeanor strangely filled Jia with anticipation.
Her own performance had been perfect—
yet she somehow felt creep was about to show something even greater.
And creep did not betray those expectations.
—♬♬♬ ♪♬♬♬
“……!”
The moment creep began playing another version of *Erlkönig* on the piano, the crowd froze in shock.
This was Liszt’s *Erlkönig*.
Franz Liszt had rearranged Schubert’s art song into a solo piano masterpiece.
People became instantly absorbed into the piano’s version of *Erlkönig*, completely different from the violin
interpretation.
But the thing that truly shocked Kim Jia was something else entirely.
‘Wait… why is the tempo even fast—don’t tell me he’s playing *Erlkönig* prestissimo?!’
Even normally, *Erlkönig* already carried an insane tempo through relentless sixteenth-note triplets.
Yet creep’s performance exceeded even that speed.
‘He increased the speed and can STILL control the trills and tremolos of *Erlkönig*?!’
Watching creep’s fingers vibrate over the keyboard like they were trembling themselves, Kim Jia unconsciously dropped
her jaw open.
Because this was the first time in her life she had ever witnessed something like this.
And truthfully—
this was the first time even creep himself had performed this way.
Believing he could never defeat Kim Jia through a conventional performance, creep spontaneously rearranged Liszt’s
*Erlkönig* on the spot.
And when combined with his talent—
it blossomed completely.
—♬♬♬♬♬ ♪ ♬♬ ♬ ♪♪ ♬♬♬
creep wasn’t merely increasing the speed.
Sometimes he accelerated the tempo aggressively, pressing down like a demon threatening human life from right beneath
their chin—
and other times he slowed the rhythm, seducing the audience with delicate sweetness like a devil whispering tempting
lies.
The way he freely toyed with the keyboard—
was truly like the devil of the piano.
No…
the *Erlking* himself.
And when the suffocating performance finally ended—
“……”
“……”
Unlike during Kim Jia’s performance, the audience couldn’t even make a sound at first.
But then—
“W-WOOOOOOAAAAAAAHHHHH—!!”
“WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH—!!”
A roar far louder than before crashed down upon him.
And among those cheering voices—
was Kim Jia herself.
Because she had devoted her entire life to classical music, she could feel even more deeply just how extraordinary that
performance had been.
“How can someone rearrange *Erlkönig* like *that*…?!”
She admired the performance together with the crowd—
and instinctively realized she had lost the performance battle.
In terms of textbook perfection, she may have been slightly superior.
But in terms of sheer performance impact, she’d been completely overwhelmed by creep.
The audience’s reaction proved it too.
Still—
she felt no bitterness or frustration over losing.
Instead, she was simply grateful to have heard such a beautiful performance.
And so she approached creep after the performance ended and bowed her head.
“That was truly an amazing performance. And… I lost.”
“……”
Looking at Kim Jia, creep quietly wrote in his notebook.
[I enjoyed performing too.]
[Which is why…]
[Would you like to continue playing together?]
“…!”
At creep’s suggestion to continue performing together, memories from the past suddenly overlapped in Jia’s mind once
more.
When they were children, she and Baek Hangyeol constantly held performance battles.
Out of every ten matches, Baek Hangyeol won eight or nine times.
And whenever she became gloomy after losing, he would always smile and say:
‘Jia, let’s keep playing together.’
…Exactly like this.
“……”
His playing style.
His gentle personality.
Even the way he excelled at Liszt.
The faceless pianist creep resembled her old friend so strangely it almost felt unreal.
Maybe that was why—
when creep invited her to continue playing together, she smiled brightly and nodded.
“Okay…!”
The moment she smiled, it somehow felt as though creep was smiling beneath the bread bag too.
Thunk.
And so, the two geniuses began their next performance together.
The random passersby who had gathered by chance could only stare blankly in awe at the performance of the century
unfolding before them.
---
—♪♬ ♩♬
“…Tch.”
For pianists, the feeling of growing older and losing finger agility was a disaster.
The recital date kept approaching, yet the fingers pressing the keys only felt heavier and heavier.
Park Heeyeon, one of Korea’s greatest pianists, clicked her tongue irritably at the unpleasant sensation.
Right then—
Bzzzz.
“…What?”
Her phone suddenly vibrated.
Looking down, she saw her manager’s name on the screen.
The manager knew better than anyone that she hated interruptions during practice.
For him to call like this meant something urgent had happened.
Park Heeyeon quickly answered.
“Yeah, hello. What is it?”
[N-Noona! I sent you a link on KakaoTalk—please watch it! creep…! creep is…!]
Ever since before, she’d ordered her agency staff to search for the faceless pianist creep.
There had been no results so far—
had they finally found him this time?
Park Heeyeon immediately opened the link her manager sent.
And there, greeting her, was an absurdly flashy video title.
[GENIUS VIOLINIST KIM JIA vs FACELESS PIANIST creep — PERFORMANCE BATTLE OF THE CENTURY ㄷㄷ]
“Kim Jia…? Don’t tell me *that* Kim Jia did something with creep?”
Violinist Kim Jia—the woman called Korea’s Paganini.
Park Heeyeon had disliked her for a long time.
Because Park Heeyeon believed classical musicians should always live with elegance and dignity.
She considered free-spirited, informal young musicians like Kim Jia to be ruining Korea’s classical music world.
“So she’s gone and done another uncultured street performance battle again. What happened to the pride of being a
virtuoso representing an entire nation? Honestly.”
Park Heeyeon clicked her tongue in annoyance.
And then—
“…What?”
A view count so unbelievable she almost couldn’t trust her own eyes appeared on the screen.
[Views: 6,589,621 — Uploaded 19 hours ago]
“O-One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand… s-six million? And it hasn’t even been a full day yet…?”
What on earth had creep and Kim Jia done to generate numbers like this?
Whatever it was—
the comment section was already completely exploding with praise for the two of them.