T/N: K-Sing Star -> K-SingerStar
Manager Kim was personally driving HS to the training lodge where the first Battle Round would be filmed.
“Man, giving you a lift to a shoot like this really reminds me of my days as a road‑manager.”
HS glanced at him, as if sliding into nostalgia.
“What… twenty years ago?”
“What did you say, punk?”
“Then thirty years ago?”
“You little—”
“Whoa, forty years?”
“If I weren’t driving right now….” Kim muttered, gripping the wheel.
A moment later he stole a side‑glance at HS and asked casually,
“Hey, want me to assign you a road‑manager?”
HS answered with iron certainty.
“No. I already have you, Manager Kim.”
“I’m your road‑manager now?”
“Isn’t it nice to relive old times?”
Kim threw him a warning glare—yet, as always, ended up the one being teased.
“Just wait till we get there, kid.”
“Jut wait till’ we get dere, kid,” HS parroted with a lisp.
“Don’t mimic me!”
“Don’ mimic me!”
Defeated, Kim let out a long sigh and changed the subject.
“So—during the Main Round, besides Yun Jae‑i, did anyone else catch your eye?”
“Why?”
“If you think they’re promising, I’m thinking of signing them.”
HS mulled it over for a beat, then spoke in a flat, indifferent tone.
“Kang Ha‑jun.”
“Kang Ha‑jun?”
HS nodded once.
Kim, intrigued, asked, “What did you like about him?”
HS replayed Ha‑jun’s previous performance in his mind. From the first moment, the contestant stood out.
A face sculpted as if a craftsman had sweated over every detail.
Long, clean lines of a model’s build.
An aura overflowing with poise and self‑assurance.
A person anyone—young or old—would find likable at first sight.
Above all, what drew HS’s second glance was Ha‑jun’s choice of song: “Dear my Beethoven,” the title track of HS’s own solo album.
True, in an audition, the song is perfect for showcasing a wide range and explosive vocals, yet…
It struck me as unexpected, HS thought. Ha‑jun looked more like someone who’d focus on performance than bare‑bones singing. So when the accompaniment began, HS—behind his helmet—actually raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Right, it was my prejudice.
He realized within seconds that Ha‑jun’s natural tone and skill were not outstanding. Yet the sincerity in his eyes and expression drew attention, and his unstable but soulful voice held the ear.
In that moment, the song felt like Ha‑jun’s own.
It was the first time… the composer had heard “Dear my Beethoven” sung by someone other than Moon Beom‑jae without comparing the two.
Moon Beom‑jae sang as if narrating his life, whereas Ha‑jun made it feel like a scene from a musical.
Ha‑jun, Ha‑jun, Ha‑jun… No matter how he sifted his memories of the previous timeline, there was no contestant named Kang Ha‑jun in K‑Singer Star. But then, “Dear my Beethoven” hadn’t existed either.
“Hmm…”
He wasn’t an instrument born with beautiful sound, but with the right tuning he might become one both pleasing to see and hear. That was why HS’s critique had grown long, sounding like harsh criticism to others.
“Nothing special,” he concluded aloud.
“One of those participants sure to make a big splash,” Kim muttered, dissatisfied with the vague answer.
“Come on—we’re friends. Can’t you give me the inside scoop? Do I have to watch the show like everyone else?”
“A true viewer endures the wait for the next episode. If you dig for spoilers you’re cheating the other viewers—”
“All right, all right!” Kim cut him off, then immediately asked again, unable to contain his curiosity.
“Fine, what song did you assign for the next Battle Round? You can tell me that.”
“Hmm… ‘Let’s Walk Together.’”
Kim blinked. “‘Let’s Walk Together’? Why that one?”
HS searched for words. Seo Jini’s “Let’s Walk Together” had aired in an ad and, though never a title track, was well known. Still, it wasn’t a typical competition piece.
Yet with clever arranging, it could make an unexpected stage; the song’s unique groove was actually hard to pull off, a perfect filter to expose contestants with poor rhythm.
And—though he could not say this—if Yun Jae‑i chose him as her opponent, HS was certain she would deliver the song better than anyone.
So he merely answered briefly, “It seems to be slipping on the charts lately.”
“Yeah, right. Since when do you care about charting?”
“I care very much.”
“Wasn’t it you who said results are the company’s business?”
“That’s still true.”
Kim exhaled a theatrical sigh. To break the silence he turned on the car stereo.
Immediately the speakers played “Dear my Beethoven.”
HS smirked. “Do you listen to my songs all the time?”
“No—pure coincidence,” Kim stammered and skipped to the next track… which was also HS’s.
“This is really, honestly random!”
Next. HS again.
“The queue just happens to be like this!”
Next, next—every track was an HS piece, like a greatest‑hits playlist.
“Hold on.”
Kim reached to skip again, but HS said, “The weather’s nice—let’s listen to this.”
Kim’s hand froze.
“Fine, we’ll listen.”
Warm chords of “A Fistful of Cherry Blossoms” filled the car. HS rolled down the window; spring wind fluttered in, Jeong Ah‑rin’s voice tickling their ears.
“Every time I hear it, I feel Ah‑rin was meant to sing this,” Kim said.
“Yeah, seems that way.”
“Did you hear? She’s already won triple‑crowns on the Big Three music shows.”
“Oh? Good for her.”
“She’s getting festival and university gigs left and right.”
“Running hot,” HS replied, expression unreadable behind the visor.
“See? Acting unimpressed again—yet you claim you care about charts.”
“A grave misunderstanding.”
Kim chuckled at the robotic answer.
“Anyway, I checked this morning—looks like it’ll hit number one soon.”
HS leaned his head against the window.
Kim muttered, “Show‑off,” then cheerfully hummed along.
Suddenly Kim recalled the Team 1 plagiarism mess caused by the lost USB. The thought that this song had almost been stolen made him dizzy.
Yet he also felt sure: even if one piece were stolen, HS could crank out another chart‑killer in no time. Laughter escaped him.
“What’s funny?” HS asked.
He didn’t answer—just imagined what kind of songs and headlines this genius would create through K‑SingerStar.
“Nothing,” Kim said.
“Oh—Ah‑rin wants to buy you dinner to say thanks.”
“Then she’ll be paying every year.” HS mumbled, turning back to the view.
Beautiful, he thought as cherry blossoms filled the window.
The car filled with spring scenery and melody; goose‑bumps pricked his skin. “A Fistful of Cherry Blossoms” had launched his four‑season project perfectly. Summer, autumn, winter… for once he looked forward to time passing.
But first he was impatient to “play” the two enticing instruments he’d found on the show.
“Manager, step on it.”
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Oppa, step on it!”
“Gross! Quit that.”
They laughed until Kim announced, “Almost there.”
Time to meet those tempting instruments.
Inside the hall
The hall had plunged into shock after the mission was revealed.
“This is brutal, even for an audition.”
“Do you know this song? I’ve never heard it.”
“Learn it in three hours and perform right away?”
“Should’ve lined up for Jay‑ble.”
The murmurs rose to laments—until MC Kim Seong‑jun’s booming voice settled everyone.
“I know the surprise Battle Mission rattled you. But as I said—this is a battlefield. Those unprepared will not survive.”
He scanned the now‑silent crowd.
“Ready yourselves.”
The contestants thought he looked devilish—and maybe he was.
How cruel, Kang Ha‑jun mused. Each of the hundred had arrived cradling hopes: maybe they’d win first place, maybe become famous. Yet this place was merely a war zone without weapons.
They would watch roommates get eliminated overnight; the pressure would force desperate effort. Most were teens or barely twenty; the psychological toll would be heavy.
I only need to survive, he told himself.
A giant monitor for HS’s group displayed the assigned song:
Seo Jini – “Let’s Walk Together”
Ha‑jun exhaled. Hours ago the song had warmed him; now it would judge him. As a competition piece it lacked high notes to blow the roof off—unless rearranged brilliantly. And they had just three hours.
Every one of the twenty contestants under HS would be thinking the same.
Especially since only ten would move on—half of the hundred would be packing tonight.
When will the matchups appear…?
He spotted staff huddled in a corner, whispering over papers.
“It’s not a duet mission, shame, but pair those two no matter what.”
“Then one of them has to go home here—”
“Worry later. That matchup is a guaranteed ratings jackpot!”
He couldn’t hear the words, only see the gesturing. The bracket would decide an episode’s ratings—and his own fate.
Whoever I face, think about the arrangement first…
Just then the host called,
“Everyone, look at the monitor for your line!”
On the screen:
HS Team 1‑on‑1 Bracket
Names popped up:
Go Ju‑a vs Lee Mi‑yeon
Kim Ji‑su vs Cho Du‑jin
Yoo Ha‑in vs Kim Sae‑byeol
Faces lit and fell.
“That one got an all‑pass, right?”
“I’m doomed!”
“Why them…?”
Groans echoed—until someone pointed.
“Hey, look at that.”
“No way…”
“How’d those two end up against each other?”
Bottom of HS’s bracket showed the hottest pairing:
Yun Jae‑i vs Kang Ha‑jun
Whether destiny or mischief, the hall buzzed: one of the two most talked‑about contestants would be gone by nightfall.
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