Chapter 5
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: Old-Timers Are Tough Opponents!
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As a national audition program where the heads of major entertainment companies personally served as judges, Singer Star Season 5's third prelims were held across the country.
However, with prelims taking place nationwide, it was impossible for busy incumbent executives to judge every single one.
That's why Singer Star brought in temporary judges for regions excluding a few key areas.
Of course, a major city like Incheon always had representatives from the Big 3 Entertainment Companies as judges.
"I wonder who it'll be this time."
While riding the subway alone to a park in Guwol-dong where the audition was being held, I mentally sorted through information on the major entertainment CEOs who might show up today.
The other two were fine, but PU Entertainment's Yoo Sanghyeon and I were bound to clash.
A former singer and one of the Four Heavenly Kings of top balladeers, he was a pioneer who spotted the potential in the idol industry early and jumped into entertainment.
He practically created the K-pop idol world. The top first-generation idols debuted under him, and even in later eras, his keen instincts and producing skills continued to shine.
While still famous as a singer, Yoo Sanghyeon was now even more renowned as a pillar of the K-pop industry.
As the oldest among the Big 3 heads, the public viewed him as holding old-school musical values—and I agreed to some extent.
Thanks to that, PU Entertainment's idols were mostly solid vocalists.
Objectively speaking, my vocals weren't exceptional.
Sure, they were impressive for a kid, but nothing more or less.
Honestly, if Yoo Sanghyeon was judging, I might have to brace for elimination.
The key would be how he evaluated my original song.
[This is the next stop...]
"Already? Subways really are fast."
With Park Uncle's mini guitar case slung over one shoulder and a vitamin drink the PC bang owner had shoved into my other hand, I hopped up the station stairs.
At 122cm tall, carrying an instrument as big as myself, anyone would mistake me for a lost child.
I scanned my surroundings sharply.
Crowds of people were spilling out through multiple exits.
I spotted the direction where the most unusually dressed folks were heading and followed them.
I'd seen a meme like this online once.
It was a KakaoTalk screenshot from a guy whose little sister said that even though it was her first time at an otaku doujin event and she didn't know the way, she just followed people talking about Vtubers and ended up at the venue.
My situation was pretty much the same.
Trailing people who looked like musicians led me straight to the site, where all sorts of camera equipment was being set up.
'Jimmy jib's in a good spot. Lighting's not fully up yet to save power. Is that short-haired woman dashing around the main writer?'
Anyway, I spotted what looked like an entry line and joined the back.
Ahead of me was a group with that Hongdae indie band vibe—perfect for strutting around claiming they "do music."
Eye-searing fluorescent-dyed hair and dangling accessories screamed their identity. Keyboards and electric guitars meant they were definitely a band setup.
With outfits that flashy, they were probably banking on concept over skill.
Unfortunately for them, an elderly gentleman in a suit was entering amid greetings from staff in the distance.
Cheers erupted from the contestants at once.
Korea's greatest vocalist and top producer—PU Entertainment's CEO and chief producer, Yoo Sanghyeon—entered the filming site to roaring applause.
Bad luck for the band ahead... and not great for me either.
A chill of anxiety hit me, and I bit my upper lip without thinking.
"The basics are lacking. It doesn't sound like singing—more like baby babble."
Yoo Sanghyeon's voice carried from beyond the door. Not cold, but laced with pity, which made his advice hit even harder.
Soon, the cocky Hongdae band right in front of me strutted in. But their swagger lasted less than three minutes.
Bam—!
The electric guitar screeching suddenly halted at Yoo Sanghyeon's gesture.
"Kids, is this really the music you want to show? Without drums or bass, playing rhythm however you feel isn't freedom—it's indulgence. Especially the vocalist; that habit of blurring the ends for style is a bad one. At PU Entertainment, you wouldn't even start as trainees."
"B-But... we have our own color..."
"You need to draw a proper base layer before adding color. Right now, it's just noise. Sorry, but that's all I'll hear. Rejected."
Moments later, the waiting room door flew open as band members poured out.
The once-arrogant fluorescent heads now slumped, hurriedly packing their cases.
The master's gentle yet razor-sharp critique sank the room's atmosphere even heavier.
'Whoa, brutal.'
So thinking, I plucked my guitar. Already tuned, it rang out clear and true.
The audition was halfway done, but only one pass so far.
The production team was probably racking their brains over this mess.
"Contestant 147, Seo Siyeon. Please enter."
Next up: 147. Me.
I broke the heavy hallway silence and walked to center stage.
A tiny 122cm kid struggling with a guitar case as big as herself made the tense filming site waver oddly.
Staff staring coldly at monitors and nervous judges alike cracked smiles at the pint-sized arrival.
"Aigoo, careful now. Isn't the guitar carrying the kid?"
A writer next to the judges blurted it out loud, sparking light laughter across the site.
Even Yoo Sanghyeon softened his sharp gaze as he looked at me.
But being babied like this felt weird. Sure, but there's an adult man's soul inside...
"...Contestant Seo Siyeon? Nine years old this year? Come on in."
Yoo Sanghyeon glanced at my file, greeting me with a mix of dad smile and producer's scrutiny.
"Siyeon, you've worked hard getting here. Hope seeing those brothers get scolded didn't scare you."
A normal kid might bow or giggle shyly, but I smoothly pulled the mini guitar from my back, set it on my lap, and replied calmly.
"I'm fine. They're just saying it to help them improve. But sir, basics don't have to mean doing exactly what the teacher says."
Yoo Sanghyeon's brow arched with interest. The filming site's chuckles faded, replaced by curiosity at the kid's bold words.
"Breath might be short, phrasing not textbook perfect. But even unorthodox singing can move people's hearts!"
I flashed a confident smile.
A nine-year-old dissing an industry legend.
If I were middle-school age, it'd look arrogant and off-putting. But I'm in second grade.
This much spunk would just come off as cute to adults and viewers.
Yoo Sanghyeon chuckled heartily, as if finding me adorable, and shot back playfully.
"Haha, interesting perspective. A kid's view and an old guy's are bound to differ.
Siyeon, let's see if you can move our hearts. If it just sounds like a child's tantrum, I'll have to judge strictly. That okay?"
"Of course. I came here for a fair shot."
The relaxed vibe, the beaming writers and judges.
Instinct kicked in: I'd already passed.
No way they'd cut a contestant who'd generated this much talk. Worst case, they'd sneak me through special judging.
But no slacking—I wasn't phoning this in.
I lightly plucked the mini guitar strings. A clear twang sliced the tension softly.
The stage temperature I'd tuned a hundred times in my past life. My small eight-year-old fingers settled on the fretboard.
"Please listen. Original song, 'Me and You'."
The calm intro ended, and my fingers slid across the narrow fretboard.
Arpeggios densely filled the empty space. Between those crystal tones, low vocals packed tight with emotion layered in.
Yoo Sanghyeon's eyes widened in shock.
This wasn't just good singing.
Hip-hop groove-based pop ballad. A single guitar risked monotony, but I placed tension chords just right for depth.
Filling rhythmic gaps with vocal breaths—that savvy far surpassed an eight-year-old's.
Then the bottled emotions burst in the chorus.
Nothing I've done for you...
Even someone like me, just for today, will play a melody for you.
The poignant yet steady lyrics flowed from my lips.
This song was the shiniest memory from my past—an idol's debut solo. Also the track that racked up millions of short-form views as fans mourned a fallen star after the flashy flames died.
That era-ending tune now breathed new life in this parallel world, reborn in a wholly different form.