Chapter 11
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Strategy to Defeat a Strong Enemy
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Before long, Friday at 7 PM—the air time for Singer Star Season 5, which had become the official TV watching hour at Evergreen Sky Nursery.
With nationwide popularity surging and one of the nursery kids—me—appearing on it, nearly all the children gathered tightly in front of the TV screen.
However, thanks to the minuscule old CRT TV screen, anyone pushed even slightly to the back couldn't see properly, so the high schoolers claimed the front row, shoving the elementary kids to the very back.
"Whoa...! Look at her. She's totally doll-like."
"Yeah."
"Hey, Seo Nahee, if you hadn't gotten that abortion back then, you could've had a daughter just like her, right?"
"Shut your mouth? And it's not that extreme."
Thanks to my privilege as a contestant, though, I squeezed into the midst of the older high schoolers right up front to watch Singer Star.
My episode had already aired last week.
The orphans' wildly contrasting reactions to family and parent-related keywords were pretty amusing.
Some wiped away tears, missing or saddened by them, while others listened to my song with cynical resentment toward the parents who abandoned them.
If I didn't have memories of my past life, I'd probably have reacted like the latter.
Seo Siyeon's parents had dumped her at the orphanage right after she was born and then died.
Cause of death: motorcycle accident.
They'd been doing the insane stunt of riding together down the highway and got themselves killed.
Maybe it was divine punishment for abandoning her.
'Riding a motorcycle on the highway is basically suicide anyway.'
No clue how a cute kid like Seo Siyeon came from trash like that.
I'd infused the family photo song with real emotions for my previous life's mother.
I actually missed her a little. It was perfect for pouring genuine feeling into.
"Oh, there she is!"
"Whoa, total prodigy."
The smooth audition suddenly buzzed as one man appeared.
Towering over 180 cm with sharp features.
But in stark contrast, his unstyled two-block haircut and haphazard hoodie made him look utterly casual.
"Whoa, insanely handsome. That's my husband."
"Isn't your husband Lee Junseo, Seo Nahee?"
"Shut it. We broke up a week ago."
Like me, Joo Jinwoo had been assigned the highest number in the male solo category.
Unlike the potential group, though, the male solo division had some solid contenders.
Still, when the most anticipated Joo Jinwoo took the stage, the vibe shifted palpably—from the judges, to the audience, to viewers at home.
That was the power of a current top contender for the win.
Betting sites apparently had Joo Jinwoo at number one odds, with me at two.
They seemed to underrate my chances due to my ridiculously young age.
'But why do gambling sites even bet on stuff like this?'
Joo Jinwoo's pick was "Our Sky," a 2000s ballad.
This locked him into ballads for every round from preliminaries onward.
Gripping the mic firmly, he closed his eyes. No flashy descriptors needed for that physique. The studio noise ebbed away like a receding tide just from his inhale.
Classic straight-laced ballad. But the depth was on another level.
-Behind the scattered clouds, your name hidden...
-The day you called to me beneath the cold moonlight.
The first verse dropped, and the high schoolers in front of the TV fell instantly silent.
Joo Jinwoo's vocals ran on a different track from Uncle Park Hansu's gritty edge or my crisp emotion.
Clean phonation, flawless breath control, unshakable ease even on high notes. To eyes that had seen countless singers over years, this was effort transcending talent.
Was it true that smart heads sang better? His precision felt like he'd dissected vocal mechanics perfectly and hammered it into his body.
"Whoa... insane. How does a person even sing like that?"
Seo Nahee muttered beside me, entranced. The flippant ex-boyfriend chatter from moments ago had long evaporated.
That was Joo Jinwoo's song—it had the power to erase all surrounding narratives, forcing utter focus on his voice alone.
As the song hit its climax, orchestral swells boomed grandly. Joo Jinwoo furrowed his brow slightly and unleashed the high note straight up.
-If I could meet you again at the edge of the sky...
-I'd abandon everything to reach that place.
No fancy triads or techniques. Just pure, direct assault.
His high note, laced with chest voice and pushed thick, hit with pressure like it would shred the TV speakers.
As someone who fought with emotion and story, he was the trickiest foe.
Few gimmicks worked against that raw physique.
From the judges' table, PU Entertainment CEO Yoo Sanghyeon nodded contentedly, looking like he was watching an avatar perfectly embodying his musical philosophy.
Made sense—he couldn't help but see his younger self in Joo Jinwoo.
"Not easy at all."
I whispered to myself in a voice no one else could hear.
The format for Round 2 of the finals was straightforward.
About 60 contestants remained.
Judges would pick the top 12 as team leaders, granting them member selection rights.
Only 6 of the 12 teams would advance; from the eliminated teams, judges could save 2 each, totaling 6.
Nearly half the field would drop.
I'd get saved even if eliminated, but Blooming wouldn't.
For their sake, I had to push our team to victory.
The draft went off without hitches.
I successfully snagged all five Blooming members.
Having picked vocalist Yoo Seolha in Round 1 and bassist Park Heesu in Round 2 signaled my intent clearly—no one interfered.
"Could you tell us why you brought the entire Blooming band as your team?"
In the quick post-draft interview with the writer, I answered like this:
"They seemed like they'd mesh best with me. Plus, among the survivors, Blooming was the only ones who could properly play as a band."
Hongdae bands had all gotten crushed by the judges.
Made sense—real bands didn't chase lottery odds here; they grinded honestly in Hongdae.
These were all half-baked wannabes.
Of them, Blooming's long practice and activity gave them the edge—naturally.
Still, Hongdae bands online wouldn't shake the stigma of losing to high school girls.
Not my problem. The ones that'd blow up would do so during the band boom in a few years anyway.
"You can look forward to seeing unnie Yoo Seolha's voice fully utilized. I've got a song prepared for her too!"
I capped the interview by casually slipping in "unnie" to hype viewers.
To accommodate me as much as possible, Singer Star rented a practice room near Ju-an Station.
They figured placing the shoot on my side made more sense than expecting Blooming to commute solo.
"Hmm... yeah, we should swap some instruments here."
The production crew even set up a computer in the practice room, filming my entire composition process all day.
With rumors ramping up that all my originals were ghostwritten, they planned to drop full YouTube footage to quash it.
'Guess I should throw in some direction for the cameras?'
Honestly, the song was done.
I tweaked top lines with virtual instruments, but the original version was still best.
This track was one I'd made after possessing this body.
It veered from my past life's style.
As my first stab at subculture tropes, it'd been a rough ride.
But blending my old funky grooves and jazz violin sounds, then layering MIDI effects, yielded something intricate yet catchy.
"The bass... I remember it being pretty solid."
Composing revealed a demanding bass line.
Testing melody on electric guitar and keys showed those were fine.
Longtime players like them could handle it easily.
But I didn't play bass.
I vaguely guessed it'd be tough.
"Arts high schooler, right?"
Park Heesu, Blooming's sole music major on bass.
Their stable band sound stemmed from her quietly anchoring the foundation.
Could she nail the rhythmic, funky demands here?
'If not, MR track it is.'
At our first meeting with Blooming, I straight-up played her the song and handed over bass sheet music.
"...How the hell do you play this?!"
She gawked in disbelief.
"Whoa, you're nailing it."
"...Why is this working?"
Her near-perfect first take left even her stunned.
Seeing that, I was certain.
Our team would own Round 2 of the finals.