Free Web NovelAfter the introductions, we took our seats among the cast.
With equipment being set up for Jo Yuri Band’s stage, we had a brief break.
I downed a bottle of water and took a deep breath.
“Phew.”
I smoothed my hair so it wouldn’t come undone. Cold sweat beaded on my palms.
Since this was my first regular variety show, I was nervous about my lines.
I did okay, right?
Bi-joo, glancing at me from beside, fished in her pocket and handed me a pink handkerchief.
“Hyung, here.”
“Thanks.”
“I noticed you said you can’t wear florals lately, so I got you florals on purpose.”
She covered her mouth and whispered. I wiped my brow and smiled warmly.
I patted her with a look that said, “Bi-joo, you’re the best.”
The other juniors looked a bit uncomfortable at our sibling PDA.
“They’re best friends with just each other.” freeweɓnovel.cøm
“So unfair.”
I couldn’t help laughing.
“You all did great singing. As expected, you’re the best.”
With that excuse, I gave each of my juniors a friendly shoulder pat.
Well, except one.
“What—why’d you skip me?”
“You hate being touched.”
“But isn’t a handshake okay?”
I was baffled at the expression that asked, “How could you not know that?”
How was I supposed to know?
But then I grinned and shook hands with my graceful maknae.
I glanced at the drum and guitar setups, then back at my juniors.
“How was I? Did my line just now land?”
They all nodded.
“Well, it wasn’t bad.”
“Since you don’t remember it, I guess it’s not a cringe moment.”
“I liked it. Your line fit well, hyung.”
There was one odd comment, but overall they praised me.
I teased,
“Then, out of ten, what score?”
Serious answers came immediately.
“8.4.”
“Objectively, about 7.3. If it were a movie rating, maybe 3.5 stars?”
“Early eight point range.”
“I’ll round up to ten.”
Seeing my juniors give honest, unpretentious scores made me smile.
...Right.
Whose fault was that?
I was at fault for expecting a “You’re a perfect ten in my heart” line.
Shaking my head, I turned back toward the stage as the setups finished and recording resumed.
MC Baek Sang-jung grabbed the mic.
“All right, next team, please step up.”
A four-piece band climbed the stage and launched into their performance.
Intense rock music filled the hall.
Jo Yuri grasped the standing mic and showcased her vocal power while the guitarist, bassist, and drummer elevated the music with stellar playing.
We couldn’t help exclaiming,
“Wow...”
This was my second time watching Jo Yuri Band live. I’d seen them at Seungjoo Ha’s music café, and I thought they were good then—now they were even better.
Musically more polished, you could say.
“Nice.”
From Jo Yuri’s clear high notes to the other members’ prowess, their skill was undeniable.
Each member was likely among the country’s top tier.
So apart from personal likability, we responded positively to the music itself—bobbing our heads, humming along.
The other cast did the same, applauding Jo Yuri Band as fellow musicians.
Clap clap clap
During the intros, the MC turned to Jo Yuri.
“Yuri-ssi, there’s an anecdote behind your name, isn’t there?”
“Yes. When people see my name, many assume I’m female... but my parents worked in Russia as expats. I spent my childhood there, and ‘Yuri’ is a male name in Russia.”
She then explained the story behind the band’s name.
“As you see, even a name carries prejudice. So I put my name on the band—to break fixed stereotypes in the world.”
It was a cool sentiment, even if the speaker wasn’t fully polished. I was a bit envious inside.
If someone asked why we’re called New Black, we’d have to mumble, “Uh... actually it’s from the chicken on the sweatshirt logo...”
Now it’s the most precious name in the world to us, but we can’t casually share that origin.
Though Deputy Hong did wrack his brain and concoct the official line about “bringing a new trend to the world.”
Baek Sang-jung glanced at his cue card and expressed genuine interest.
“How fascinating.”
He glanced at me, then back to Jo Yuri.
“I saw your pre-meeting interview. You listed your special skill exactly the same as Woo-joo-ssi’s.”
“...Excuse me?”
“It says your hobby is ‘listening to music.’ You must know a lot of songs.”
“Yes. That’s right.”
Jo Yuri beamed confidently.
“I really love listening to music. I know a lot—especially Korean rock music from the 1960s.”
“Oh? This is interesting.”
Baek Sang-jung grinned.
“We’ll have a chance to test that soon. Whether you two really know old songs. Thank you!”
At that moment, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) Jo Yuri approached our seats with her bandmates and looked at me.
It was a “You?” kind of stare—part dismissal, part competitive spark.
The difference from our first meeting was she wasn’t flat-out ignoring me now—she’d seen our performance and recognized me as a rival.
She still wore a “What could you possibly know?” look, though.
While the next stage was being set up, I returned her gaze silently with a smile.
And ... I kept catching the looks on my juniors’ faces—pity, “She’ll regret it,” “So sad,” “Let’s pray for her.”
I laughed at how they seemed to silently root for me.
They really don’t know what I am.
I’m not some crazed maniac who flips out at every mention of music.
I just enjoy listening to it in my free time.
Jo Yuri Band’s performance ended, and it was Cha Woo-hyun’s turn.
“Whoaaa...!”
I got goosebumps.
Each note Cha Woo-hyun sang made the cast gasp and murmur in awe.
He truly lived up to being the show’s star singer.
I’d thought he sang impressively at the Mango Chart Awards, but hearing him live up close was mind-blowing.
He looked like a big, expressionless mustachioed uncle, but when he sang, he transformed.
His facial expressions perfectly conveyed the lyrics. His breath support sounded stable enough for a suspension bridge.
His notes soared and dipped not in jumps but in smooth curves.
“...He’s insane. That man is insane.”
Ri-hyeok beside me couldn’t stop marveling. His usually pale face was a deep tomato red from excitement.
Normally I’d tease that over-the-top reaction, but today we all felt exactly the same.
He had incredible skill.
It was like a high-level player enters a level-10 dungeon, and suddenly a level-99 dragon barges in to show off his kill.
Of course, everyone here was talented, so it wasn’t truly that extreme—but it felt that way.
It was overwhelming.
What impressed us most, though, was seeing the practice behind that prowess.
Someone with such natural singing talent who’s spent over ten years eating, breathing, and living music to reach this caliber.
I deeply respected him as a person.
Knowing I’d have to compete against him made me both tremble with nerves and buzz with anticipation.
“Wow...”
Even MC Baek Sang-jung forgot his role for a moment, mouth agape.
“He’s not called the ‘God of Song’ online for nothing.”
“I’m far from God.”
He answered seriously.
Thinking it was a joke, Baek Sang-jung laughed and asked,
“In your opinion, what percentage are you at right now?”
“......”
Cha Woo-hyun stroked his mustache in thought, then replied more seriously than anyone would have expected.
“About 73 percent.”
“I-I see...”
He clearly had a unique sense of humor.
But the precision of that “73 percent” thrilled and awed me beyond words.
“Amazing.”
Ri-hyeok whispered.
“Isn’t that incredible? How much mastery of singing do you need to be able to calculate a percentage like that and crack a joke at the same time...”
“...”
“I want to be like that hyung.”
I suddenly imagined a future fan signing.
My Soufflé fans sitting happily, and opposite them, Ri-hyeok looking like Cha Woo-hyun—impassive.
I pictured a terrifying future where a fan unfollows.
Watching Ri-hyeok diligently take notes as if every word from Cha Woo-hyun were precious, I made a resolution:
I must prevent them from ever talking to each other.
After all cast members introduced themselves, Baek Sang-jung said,
“All right, we’ve seen five distinctive, talented teams.
It’s time to enter the main event.
To honor the show’s concept of uncovering hidden old songs, it’s time to set off on a musical journey.
But first, we’ll reveal the year.”
Challenge, Song Discovery Unit! followed this format:
The production team picks a year first.
Each act prepares what they consider a hidden masterpiece—any genre.
Then five songs are drawn by lot from those six and assigned randomly.
Baek Sang-jung looked at his cue card and announced,
“The year for our first episode is...”
A big screen displayed:
【 1990 】
Everyone gazed at the screen, smiling.
“1990. Globally, Germany reunified and the Cold War ended. In Korea, it was a golden age of pop music.”
The tension among the cast eased somewhat.
Unlike songs earlier than the 1960s, 1990s music was less daunting to rearrange in a modern style.
The production handed the basket of lots to the MC.
“All right, time to draw your songs. Inside are the songs you’ll prepare over the next two weeks.”
Song selection is one of a competition program’s most crucial moments.
And with random assignment, everyone looked anxious.
“First, Risa-ssi, please come up.”
Risa drew her lot confidently after a deep breath.
Unfolding the squiggly paper revealed a title that made everyone tilt their heads:
『 Ttorongttorong 』
Baek Sang-jung smiled as he held the mic.
“Ttorongttorong. Never heard that before. Shall we take a listen together?”
A clear voice sounded through the speakers:
♪ ttorong
Ttorong?
Everyone blinked.
♪ ttorong ttorong ttororong
♪ morning dew rolls
It was a children’s song.
The entire cast burst into laughter, and Risa looked crestfallen.
The MC fanned himself with his cue card, shaking his head.
“Well, Risa-ssi, how do you feel?”
“It’s a children’s song. How am I supposed to interpret this... I heard the genres were diverse, but wow...”
“Amazing, right?”
Baek Sang-jung, as if recalling something, turned to me and teased,
“How about you, music aficionados? Do you know this song?”
“...Yes.”
Jo Yuri grabbed the mic, flustered.
“Honestly, I don’t really know it. It’s a children’s song...”
“And what about you, Woo-joo-ssi?”
I nodded and said,
“At first I wasn’t sure, but after hearing it, I think I know it. Isn’t this the song that won the Grand Prize at the 1990 PBS Creative Children’s Song Contest?”
“......”
In that instant, everyone looked at me.
“......?”
Faces read either “What is he saying?” or “Did I mishear?”
Even the production crew stared as if thinking, “That can’t be right...”
Only my juniors sat proudly, thinking “This is our bondservant’s moment.”
Baek Sang-jung asked again,
“You know this?”
“Yes.”
“Really? First, let’s verify. PD-nim! Is Woo-joo-ssi correct?”
The main PD behind the camera nodded, equally stunned.
Baek Sang-jung whipped his head around.
“How did you know?”
“I’d heard it before. I once dreamed of being a composer instead of an idol.”
I briefly explained how I came to know the song—nicely packaged.
When I started studying composition, I aimed for idol music, but realistically thought what would earn me money.
I even considered making catchy children’s songs and striking it rich on Mitube, or launching a lullaby channel.
So I dived into all sorts of children’s songs then.
My focus was such that I once told the junior during lunch, “Who’s hungry? Let’s eat.”
Ttorongttorong was one of those songs.
Baek Sang-jung looked impressed.
“Incredible. You even got a 1990 children’s song title right.”
“I was lucky. Especially since it even won the Grand Prize...”
Risa looked at me with a very curious expression.
“Yes. I was wondering how to prepare for the competition.”
She nodded.
“I’ll have to ask Woo-joo-ssi after filming today.”
My juniors looked at each other with “Why?” “How?” expressions, and I shot them a look.
Fortunately, the next songs drawn were familiar to several senior singers too.
Discussion flowed—sharing impressions, guessing who sang which.
Cha Woo-hyun said,
“It’s a song by Eun Sera-sunbaenim. I know it as ‘Flower of Betrayal,’ from the previous year.”
“Actually, it’s ‘Flower of Innocence.’”
“That’s it—wait.”
Cha Woo-hyun nodded, then his eyes widened.
“You knew that?”
“Yes, she’s one of my favorite senior singers.”
Teaming up with Cha Woo-hyun, I unraveled the story behind Eun Sera’s trilogy of flower songs, and everyone listened eagerly.
It felt like when Chef Park Jae-woo explained a dish’s origins on Pastry Chefs Korea—we loved it.
That pattern continued—whenever an obscure song played, I would gently add context.
Humbly, of course.
Initially puzzled folks soon started asking me questions instead.
What was meant to be a cast discussion about their competition songs turned into a “musical journey with Dr. Woo-joo” segment.
Song Bohyeong said,
“Woo-joo-ssi, you talk and know stuff like you’re from a higher level than me.”
Cha Woo-hyun chimed in,
“You look older than me, too.”
Others laughed.
The MC seemed to be playing up my “old soul” position for comedy.
I wanted to refuse, but they all already treated me like a grumpy old music critic.
And my juniors beamed at that reaction—like a devoted pet owner thrilled by likes on their cat photos.
As everyone excitedly chatted, Jo Yuri merely blinked—I caught her in the corner.
She had little to say outside her own field, so she naturally floated out of the conversation.
Normally I’d pull her in with a question, but I let it be.
Finally, it was our turn to draw the last two lots.
“All right, New Black, time to draw your songs.”
We flocked forward.
My juniors huddled around, resting chins and hands on my shoulder like making a wish to a statue, which made the others laugh.
“Go for it, Woo-joo-mon.”
Buoyed by Junghyun’s cheer, I plucked my lot.
The title “Life” appeared, and the song began to play.
A familiar, calm intro.
Hmm... what song was this?
I closed my eyes to savor it, then saw a camera moving in for a close-up of me.
I hoped I didn’t look too weird...
Time flows
As it will, doesn’t it?
It featured that familiar ornamental delivery and a slight trot flavor, though not fully trot.
But aside from style, it was a beautiful song.
As the gentle voice reflected on life, I glanced at my juniors.
Good songs stay good, evidently.
They too smiled and listened appreciatively.
This time, not only I but all my juniors knew the song’s originator.
Baek Sang-jung said,
“The title’s unfamiliar, but the singer is someone we all know. New Black knows him too, right?”
“Yes.”
Grasping the mic, I said,
“You can’t not know him.”
No Jae-hyun.
He was the original singer of “Stay with Me,” which we covered at year-end evaluations, and a now-retired legendary vocalist.
His song was our mission.
“Perfect.”
I worried whether we could do justice to the song’s theme, but I loved the pick.
No matter what was on the other lots I didn’t draw, none would please me more.
I showed off to my juniors with a triumphant look: “See my drawing skills?”
Then someone asked,
“And the other song?”
At Song Bohyeong’s question, the MC unfolded the final lot.
“...!”
While my juniors watched my reaction, Baek Sang-jung announced:
“It’s ‘Deoksun-ah’ by the late Famous Deok.”
I blinked, and my juniors could barely stifle their laughter.
