Chapter 3
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Discovery (1)
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The turn signal of the stopped car blinked like a metronome with a rhythmic click.
I tapped my thigh in time with the beat, casually glancing out the window.
I'm really heading to arts high school.
A few more days had passed since Dad grabbed my shoulder in shock.
By the time I came to my senses that day, my fingers and wrists were tingling all over. Everything in moderation, they say, but I'd gotten too carried away.
From then on, I paid extra attention to hand care while devoting myself to the piano, leading up to now.
"We're here. Look, you can see it."
A banner welcoming new students fluttered grandly between the imposing main gates.
Even from a distance, Ye-rim Arts High School's scenery was impressive. The scale of the entrance alone crushed any ordinary university.
Seeing it with my own eyes only amplified that impression.
"Just how much money does your school's foundation have?"
"They charge a lot in tuition, too."
"Fair point."
Dad trailed off with an admiring expression.
"Dad, you have to go straight ahead from here, so I'll just get out and cross the street."
"Yeah, see you later."
"It's dorms anyway, so 'see you' is relative. Keep in touch, make lots of friends."
"Don't worry too much. Whose son am I?"
"...Right, what trouble could you get into. Go on."
I got out, waved goodbye to the receding car.
As I started walking, the weight of my heavy bag settled in. I'd only packed for the day; the rest went via courier.
"Hoo."
Even waiting at the crosswalk, the reality of enrolling in arts high didn't fully sink in.
I had no idea why I'd regressed or why I'd passed into this high school world of all places.
But one thing was certain.
At least while attending Ye-rim Arts High, I could focus solely on the piano without a care in the world.
Exams and evaluations, big or small, will all hinge on piano skills anyway.
No more dealing with performance reviews, peer evaluations, client management, international politics, or economic trends. That alone was enough.
Watching geniuses build their musical foundations up close was a bonus privilege.
Who were the domestic pianists my age again? Baek Ji-ho?
Either way, this was an experience I couldn't have anywhere but here—and only if I attended now.
Just imagining it filled me with pure joy; my lips curved up involuntarily as excitement bubbled from my core to the top of my head.
No music classes on the first day, probably... What'll we start with?
Full of such questions, I looked around like a kid at an amusement park for the first time.
Someone struggling with a huge double bass, others hugging parents, friends walking in groups...
Early as it was, the main gate buzzed moderately.
Amid it all, an odd pair caught my eye: a fidgety boy and girl scanning passersby instead of the surroundings.
What's with them?
I considered sightseeing the school more before heading in and glanced their way while walking—
"Hey! Over there, hey!"
"Friend! Wait up!"
—only for the duo to charge straight at me.
"...Who are you?"
"You're a freshman, right? Right?"
The girl bounced on her toes, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Up close, her name tag was a different color.
Seniors for sure... but they didn't look like instrumentalists, and I couldn't fathom why they approached me.
"Yes, but?"
"Music department?"
"Piano, right? Please say piano!"
I stepped back from her energy, but nodded reflexively at "piano."
"Whoa, jackpot...!"
"How's this such a coincidence?"
Their reactions felt off—awkward.
Usually, people with business approached like this.
"We're from Ye-rim Arts High's Broadcasting Club! We run a YouTube channel for the school?"
"Almost all arts high kids watch it, and plenty of civilians too. Subscribers at 20K."
The boy proudly flashed his phone screen. Impressive for students.
"That's cool."
"No, no! Not bragging, idiot!"
"Then what? Jump right in? He doesn't even know who we are."
They grumbled with twisted expressions, then turned back with friendly smiles.
"Anyway, new semester, entrance ceremony—we're filming content."
"The title is..."
"Ye-rim Arts High Piano Freshman: Hunting the Ultimate Perfect Pitch!"
...Lame as hell.
"I see..."
Close call—I nearly let my thoughts slip out. At my old company, I'd have shot down a proposal like that.
Rubbing my itchy throat, I glanced away—to a digital piano sitting alone by the gate corner.
Thick body suggested a pricey model.
"What do you say? Wanna join...? No, please join! You're the last one we need—pretty please."
"Won't take long, and there's prizes."
"Having such a handsome junior as our final player would be perfect..."
Their stares were too intense; I averted my eyes.
I was immune to flattery, and playing along with this childish gimmick felt weird.
Perfect pitch, huh.
Not that impressive, really. Relative pitch was more useful sometimes.
I checked the time on my phone. Early arrival left plenty till the ceremony.
Like early ear-training practice.
School probably had similar classes regularly. Good warmup.
"Just play that piano?"
"Really? Quick, before you change your mind!"
Four eager hands ushered me to the piano.
It sat a bit off from the gate road, with lush evergreens as backdrop—smart choice.
"But isn't perfect pitch kinda cliché? Not that special."
"Nonsense! The king's road is king for a reason."
"Hits big with civilians. Following along instantly makes you seem genius-level."
I'd never seen these videos, so whatever. They'd handle it.
"Single melody first, then chords, ramping up difficulty."
"10 stages total! Only one's passed the final so far."
Just one? Ye-rim admits expect solid ear-training; must be tough.
"Who?"
"No mosaic needed, so okay to say?"
"Yeah, Baek Ji-ho—super famous guy."
...Baek Ji-ho. Hearing that name here.
I'd expected to meet him at school, but this was sudden.
If only he passed, it was tricky. No wonder the genius rep.
I nodded understanding; the girl smiled, eyeing my tag.
"Mosaic for you, junior Kwon Do-hyun? Speak if uncomfortable—we respect participants' wishes."
"Yes, please."
My training time was short; no spotlight hog.
Didn't fancy direct comparison with elite track kids.
"Aw, shame. Thumbnail gold."
She framed a camera with thumb and finger, sighing dramatically.
"Ready? Battery?"
"Yeah, let's go."
The mission was simple: replicate their sounds on the keys.
Problem was, it could get endlessly hard if overthought—like mental math; basics easy, three-digit multiplication tough.
"Stage 1!"
A single light note: C major, D-sharp. Short black key tap.
"Stage 2: two notes!"
Two-note "duet," apparently. YouTube thing; I let it slide.
Two: G, B.
Three: C, D-sharp, E-sharp.
Three again: G, B-flat, A.
I hammered keys instantly. Easy so far—hurry up signal.
"Correct! This challenger's speed is no joke!"
Glancing over, that was for the camera—scripted nod was cute.
"Stage 5!"
Now four overlapping notes.
D, F-sharp, A, C—four keys at once. Familiar progression; what was it.
"Stage 6!"
Difficulty rising. Fingers spread again.
Underestimated at 10 stages; made sense only Baek Ji-ho cleared all.
Stage 8: five notes simultaneous. Recorded sound quality grated—not live piano.
"D-sharp, E-sharp, F, G, A."
"...Correct."
Not impossible. Focus ears fully, sounds stick.
Layered tones unravel like thread; left/right hands separate crisply.
Just pluck each layer to fingers and press.
Was my hearing this sharp before? Dunno—it's just audible.
"Hold on, hold on."
Lost in thought, the boy halted filming and rushed over.
"Problem?"
Suspicious senior stared, then asked.
"You mess with piano settings?"
"Settings? Like what."
"Buttons and such."
Followed his point: volume dial, tiny buttons.
I hadn't touched them.
"No, just keys."
"...Weird, sound was different."
He tilted his head, shrugged, returned.
They whispered, signaled resume.
"Final: Stage 10!"
Thick six-note chord hit my ears.
Longer than before—final stage courtesy.
"Hm..."
"Ooh, first hesitation from the challenger!"
One ambiguous key bugged me, but I trusted my ear.
Slowly tested keys, naming notes.
"C... A-flat, G-flat, F, D, B."
Seemed right on review.
Six was pushing it. Shorter sound, and I'd lack analysis time.
"Huh? Wrong!"
Wrong? No way.
Bunny-eyed girl flipped between script and me, mumbling.
"Idiot... Read from high to low."
"Ah."
I gave an awkward smile; she dodged my gaze, grinning stiffly.
Her odd face spread to the boy.
"It was right?"
"Uh? Y-yeah..."
Yes or no—spit it out.
Maybe Baek Ji-ho cleared it, so me too would mess things up.
But why care?
I don't avoid spotlight to play second fiddle.
I know it; no reason to fake wrong.
"Wait... Junior!"
I locked eyes with their indecipherable expressions.
Perfect pitch.
Even among it, skill gaps were stark.
But this wasn't a innate perfect pitch test. Clearing 4-5 stages was plenty for content.
Civilians thought nailing two notes was genius.
Buoyed by that, Lee Jin-seong and Park So-hee gripped the camera confidently.
Our school's the best.
Results surprised.
Excluding Baek Ji-ho, others averaged stage 6.
How to edit this hour for max views?
Lee Jin-seong's mind raced.
Smooth sailing. Baek Ji-ho carried solo; thumbnails like "Ye-rim Freshmen: Perfect Pitch Paradise!" fit.
Feature famous, masked Baek Ji-ho for buzz.
"It was right?"
"Uh? Y-yeah..."
Then, a wildcard.
Can't have two toppers.
Lee Jin-seong's eyes darted.
Prize money split impossible; editing overhaul a nightmare.
"Wait... Junior!"
Forcing a friendly smile, he spun Park So-hee.
"Why pick him? Who is he?"
"He's nuts! If only Lee Ha-yeon showed... no mess."
"Who knew she'd ghost us like bugs."
Heads together, no IQ boost—stuck.
Every second hurt; checked time. Ceremony had buffer.
Lee Jin-seong steeled: "I'll handle. Tell Jeong-won I'm late."
"What? Doing?"
"Watch."
Battery checked, he approached the waiting junior.
Kwon Do-hyun—tag lingered in view.
"Actually, there's a hidden mission past stage 10...? Didn't expect such quick clear! Impressive!"
Ad-lib sucked.
Kwon Do-hyun sensed weirdness, but whatever—edit audio later.
"I'll play a piece; follow it right away..."
"Crazy overkill."
"Just follow!"
Park So-hee's jab stabbed his back.
Overhyped nothingburger—off-script.
Kwon Do-hyun could bail legit.
"Ooh, fun!"
Unexpected.
"First time. Time left, right?"
"Huh?"
Bold confidence. Swollen pride, shining eyes screamed hype.
"What piece?"
Oh crap.
Lee Jin-seong didn't know either.