The Road To Glory [EN]: Chapter 981

And Then There Were None

< Episode 98. And Then There Were None >

[Is Monthly HALO Really Over?]

00:00 on August 1st, crossing over from July 31st.

A news article that felt strangely familiar was uploaded.

Judging by the registration time of 00:00:35 British Standard Time, it was clearly written in advance.

The article, predictably, discussed the ‘exhaustion of genius,’ using metaphors to suggest a decline in HALO’s output.

The reaction was overwhelmingly negative.

Despite the ‘Monthly HALO’ moniker, everyone understood that releasing an album every month was incredibly difficult—bordering on impossible. HALO’s fifth album, released around April, had already taken 44 days.

The public wasn’t receptive to the manufactured drama over something they considered a lighthearted joke.

Musicians from the United States, Britain, and Europe openly criticized the notion, pointing out the difficulty of releasing even one album a year, let alone monthly. HALO’s dedicated European fans, affectionately known as Heligans, were particularly vocal.

The article directly referencing ‘exhaustion of genius’ was eventually taken down.

However, the ‘Monthly HALO’ discussion persisted.

As HALO’s Billboard rankings continued to climb, speculation about the release date of his next album only intensified.

Ultimately, the return of the English Premier League’s 31/32 season brought the debate to a close.

[LOL, even Taeyang can’t resist soccer LOL]

[Which team does Taeyang support?]

Whether by coincidence or design, HALO’s eighth album, *No One Was There*, was released on August 9th, the same day the Premier League season kicked off.

The release sparked a flurry of soccer-related puns from international soccer fans and the Taeyangdan [Taeyang’s fanbase].

[There was nothing there, only you… (JPEG)]

[There is no championship there… (JPEG)]

[There was no hair there]

└Youuuu!

A few days before the release of HALO’s eighth album, he had a conversation with August Veil. The timing coincided with the Premier League season, leading to a discussion about soccer.

He used to be a passionate fan, writing songs for his team, attending games whenever possible, and maintaining close relationships with the players. There was one team he loved above all others.

“I don’t have one now.”

The team he loved didn’t exist in this world. A team with the same home ground existed, but he couldn’t bring himself to support it.

His beloved team wasn’t particularly successful, but the team in this world was *too* good. He remained attached to his old team, and Halo had stopped following soccer altogether.

August Veil, unaware that the team he loved had disappeared, chuckled as he listed teams with consistently poor records.

As always, he inquired about Halo’s daily routine. Considering the infrequency of his calls, he seemed genuinely interested in Halo’s schedule.

“Today.”

Halo glanced at the calendar and then out the window.

The heat haze shimmered above the asphalt.

The monsoon season still felt distant.

“I’m doing a feature.”

Today was the day of the recording session with the person Shin Joo-hyuk had introduced. It was more of a recording day than a meeting.

Halo recalled Shin Joo-hyuk’s visit to his studio.

– Are you talking about an amateur?

– No, not like that. Do you watch musicals?

A question in response to a question, but Halo understood the intent.

– Are they a musical actor?

– Yeah.

– Well, it doesn’t matter.

He knew many talented singers worked as musical actors. However, being introduced to a musical actor rather than a singer was unusual.

– That kid is also a singing genius. You’re a musical genius, and they’re a singing genius. How about it? Should I introduce you?

– Let me hear them first.

– Of course.

Shin Joo-hyuk shrugged, acting as if Halo would inevitably be impressed.

Shin Joo-hyuk considered them a singing genius, which Halo took with a grain of salt, but he was curious.

A day later, he received an official vocal video from a company known for managing actors. It was also Lee So-ra’s agency, whom he had met on the set of an old drama.

*Ah, there’s also that.*

Shin Joo-hyuk jokingly added as he left the label.

– Oh, but that kid has a terrible personality like you? Not that it’s bad. You could say they hate to lose. Well, be careful. They won’t be as lenient as I am… What’s with that expression?

Regardless, the girl in the video didn’t have Liv’s timbre, but she possessed a pleasant tone and solid vocal fundamentals.

He expected classical vocalization, given her background, but she sang a standard pop song.

“By the way, Ms. Moon Seo-yeon, aren’t you resting?”

“Me? I’m resting right now! We’re not practicing yet, are we?”

Halo, who had been waiting, turned to Moon Seo-yeon, who was still in the recording studio.

She was sitting in a recliner, studying her notes. He wasn’t sure what she was doing, but it didn’t look like resting.

Moon Seo-yeon smiled brightly and insisted she was resting.

Halo had assumed Moon Seo-yeon would have similar stamina to him, expecting her to tire out first in this marathon. Instead, Nam Gyu-hwan and Han Jin-young had collapsed and were sleeping in comfortable beds downstairs—he had bought the entire building some time ago.

*There’s a reason she’s a former pianist from Korea National University of Arts [a prestigious arts university in South Korea].* He wasn’t sure if it was stamina or efficient energy management, but she was undeniably passionate.

“Oh, right. President. By the way.”

“Yes.”

“This title track. That’s the song you played at Nakwon Arcade [a famous music instrument market in Seoul], right?”

Halo was briefly surprised before regaining his composure.

“When are we recording that?”

“You practiced that too?”

He hadn’t even given her the sheet music.

“Yes, you played the completed song for me.”

Moon Seo-yeon stated matter-of-factly.

She had apparently memorized it without the sheet music and practiced.

Halo finally spoke.

“That… We won’t be doing a session recording for that.”

“Yes?”

Moon Seo-yeon’s expression faltered at the unexpected answer.

“We’re only going to use the guitar.”

“…Don’t you need a keyboard?”

Moon Seo-yeon asked with a hint of disappointment, and Halo felt a pang of guilt.

He hadn’t anticipated her memorizing the melody and practicing, catching him off guard.

But he wouldn’t change his mind.

This title track wouldn’t include sessions from all the members, including Moon Seo-yeon, Nam Gyu-hwan, and Han Jin-young. It had to be that way.

“Ah, I’m not angry at you, President. I was just asking.”

Moon Seo-yeon waved her hand before Halo could respond. She glanced out the window, her eyes widening.

“Oh, they’re here!”

As she spoke, a black van pulled up in front of the label building. The door opened, and a manager in a black hat stepped out, followed by a woman.

The woman, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans despite the summer heat, exchanged a few words with the manager before entering the building. The manager remained outside, as if instructed to stay.

“Hello.”

The woman who entered bowed politely, her long hair cascading down.

“Am I too late?”

“Oh my.”

Moon Seo-yeon covered her mouth with one hand and waved with the other.

“Ah, no, you’re not late at all! You’re thirty minutes early.”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

The woman, seemingly calm and composed, smiled back and greeted her politely.

“I’m actress Joo Yeon-woo. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m keyboardist Moon Seo-yeon. It’s a pleasure to work with you!”

Halo, noticing Moon Seo-yeon’s sudden enthusiasm, greeted her next.

“It’s very hot today, right? Do you happen to like ginger tea?”

“Ah, thank you. I’m not picky about what I eat.”

“Please wait a moment!”

Moon Seo-yeon dashed towards the refrigerator, seemingly intent on emptying its contents. Joo Yeon-woo, watching Moon Seo-yeon open the refrigerator, turned to Halo.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, Nohaeil. I enjoy your music too.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you too.”

“If it’s Shin Joo-hyuk, he probably didn’t say good things.”

Halo chuckled at the playful remark and countered.

“I guess he said the same about me?”

Joo Yeon-woo laughed.

It was clear Shin Joo-hyuk had warned her about his personality.

“Joo Yeon-woo, here you go.”

“Wow, thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

“I’m a fan of Joo Yeon-woo.”

“Did you see the musical I was in?”

“Yes, that debut work- ”

“That’s right, that’s right! Oh my goodness…”

She seemed like any other fan, chatting amiably with Moon Seo-yeon.

After enjoying a cup of ginger tea, they began recording.

Halo had planned to provide the sheet music separately, but Joo Yeon-woo produced her own copy, filled with annotations, and stood before the microphone.

He hadn’t expected to record immediately.

As he had mentioned, the song was based on Liv’s vocals, and he intended to add some arrangement.

It was difficult to make a definitive judgment based solely on the agency’s video, so he wanted her to try it out once.

But the result exceeded his expectations.

*Good?*

She not only grasped the song’s essence but also demonstrated a desire to make it her own. In fact, it seemed perfectly suited to her, as if written specifically for her voice—delicate yet subtly expressive.

“What’s wrong? Is there something wrong?”

Joo Yeon-woo turned to Halo, noticing his silence.

Halo, in the control room, shook his head.

She hadn’t made any mistakes. He was simply surprised.

“No. You’re doing well.”

“I have to do well since I came in through connections.”

Joo Yeon-woo clenched her fist and smiled proudly.

He detected no trace of classical vocalization. Without knowing her background, one would assume she was a singer or aspiring singer.

He knew Liv possessed a high vocal range, but Joo Yeon-woo seemed equally capable.

He had anticipated significant arrangement, but it seemed he could proceed as is, perhaps with minor rhythmic adjustments. Halo tapped his fingers, contemplating the inspiration that had just struck him.

Joo Yeon-woo quietly observed him, refraining from interrupting.

She had cleared her schedule for the day, so there was no rush.

Nohaeil’s featuring, secured through Shin Joo-hyuk’s connections, didn’t feel like she had stolen someone else’s opportunity.

She enjoyed singing and knew she was talented. She was confident she could interpret the song better than anyone else.

Fortunately, he seemed pleased, and she loved the song.

The composing process of a musical genius was also fascinating.

It would be invaluable experience if she ever had to portray a genius.

Joo Yeon-woo carefully observed Nohaeil’s movements, trying to memorize them.

The recording progressed smoothly.

Even when he made adjustments, Joo Yeon-woo adapted quickly. Shin Joo-hyuk’s description of her as a ‘singing genius’ wasn’t an exaggeration.

She was 19 years old in Korean age [Korean age counts a year from conception, so Koreans are typically one or two years older than their international age]. That meant she was around 17 or 18 internationally. She was unparalleled among her peers.

*What was I like?*

Halo briefly reflected on his past self.

Between the ages of 16, when he released his first album, and 20, when he released his second, he had enjoyed himself. It had all been a valuable experience.

Halo spoke as Joo Yeon-woo was hydrating.

“Do you sing that way when you sing musical numbers too?”

“Like this? Um, no. It’s not exactly the same. But it’s not quite classical vocalization either.”

“Can you sing one for me?”

“A musical number?”

Halo nodded.

He wanted to hear the difference.

Joo Yeon-woo, having placed her water bottle on the chair, paused and asked.

“Do you need it right now?”

“No, I just want to hear how different it is.”

“Then-.”

Joo Yeon-woo smiled.

“-I won’t sing it.”

Joo Yeon-woo continued before Halo could respond.

“If you come to see my musical, I’ll sing it for you then.”

Halo, who had been listening intently, chuckled.

He understood Shin Joo-hyuk’s earlier comment a little better.

He didn’t fully agree, but she definitely had a unique personality.

“I thought the musical was over.”

“I’m going to do another one soon. One that Nohaeil knows well.”

There was only one musical Halo knew well.

The creative musical *Rock*.

She spoke as if she had already been cast in a musical that hadn’t even finished production.

“Have you already been cast?”

“Not yet. But it will be soon, right? I’ll sing Nohaeil’s song 멋있게 [Coolly/Stylishly] for you then.”

“Um.”

Her confidence was admirable, but Halo shrugged.

“You won’t have a chance to sing my song then.”

“Why?”

She seemed surprised.

Joo Yeon-woo asked insistently.

“Because there’s no way Joo Yeon-woo will be cast as Jungwoo.”

“So why can’t I be…”

Joo Yeon-woo, briefly agitated, paused.

First of all, ‘Jungwoo’ didn’t sound like a girl’s name.

Having skimmed the script, she knew it was the name of the male lead.

“It’s a male song…”

“Yes.”

“But Jungwoo could be a girl, couldn’t he?”

“Ask the director about that.”

Joo Yeon-woo realized the futility of her argument and lowered her head, looking sulky. He had sensed it earlier, but she clearly had a strong desire to sing.

He appreciated that kind of passion.

Halo smiled faintly and asked.

“Joo Yeon-woo, do you have any thoughts of becoming a singer?”

It was a sudden question, but Joo Yeon-woo replied seriously.

“I like singing, but I like acting just as much. That’s why I like musicals the most, because I can do both. But I want to release an album under my name someday. I’m not confident because I haven’t tried composing.”

“Ah, you can’t compose.”

The corners of Joo Yeon-woo’s mouth, which had confidently declared her love for musicals, tightened slightly.

“It’s not that I can’t, it’s that I’ve never tried it.”

“That’s the same as not being able to.”

“That…”

Joo Yeon-woo, searching for a rebuttal, suddenly smiled brightly and changed the subject.

“Then, does Nohaeil have any thoughts of becoming a musical actor?”

“No.”

He had never considered it, not even once.

Not just a musical actor, but an actor in general.

“Why? I think you’d be good at it.”

“I don’t act.”

“-It’s not that you can’t?”

“…”

Joo Yeon-woo smiled brightly, and Halo smiled back, thinking.

*This impudent brat.*

If he claimed he had never tried it, he knew how she would respond, turning his own words against him.

Her question about him becoming a musical actor wasn’t just a casual remark.

– Oh, but that kid has a terrible personality like you? Not that it’s bad. You could say they hate to lose. Well, be careful. They won’t be as lenient as I am.

He knew she hated to lose.

The two people’s smiles deepened.

On the surface, the studio was friendly and full of smiles.

“What, what’s going on with you two?”

Unaware of Moon Seo-yeon’s eavesdropping and subsequent fuss, they continued to stare at each other.

The recording hadn’t taken long. If they made mistakes or forced something, the truth disguised as good sounds would be revealed.

After the recording, Joo Yeon-woo bowed politely again with a calm and composed demeanor.

“This is my first time featuring, and I’m grateful for the opportunity. If there are any problems with the recording, please call me. I had fun today.”

“That won’t happen, but I had fun too.”

Joo Yeon-woo paused as she was about to leave, as if remembering something, and turned around.

“Ah, I’m also sorry if I made you feel bad today.”

“It wasn’t bad at all.”

“I’m glad then.”

Halo smiled faintly, and Joo Yeon-woo smiled back and bowed before leaving.

“President, what’s going on~”

And all that remained was Moon Seo-yeon with sparkling eyes.

The sulky attitude from earlier briefly flashed through his mind, but Moon Seo-yeon’s excitement was too high.

“Did the recording go well?”

Halo nodded.

She was a good singer.

The recording was satisfactory.

“What about other things?”

“Other things?”

Moon Seo-yeon tilted her head, focusing on his answer. Halo, initially confused, suddenly understood.

He wasn’t an idiot, and he recognized the suggestive glint in her eyes.

Moon Seo-yeon seemed to have misunderstood something.

Yes, trying to connect two young men and women was a natural human instinct.

“Isn’t Joo Yeon-woo really pretty? I was really shocked when I first saw her!”

As expected.

Halo snorted.

Regardless of Joo Yeon-woo’s appearance, he had no romantic interest.

He had noticed this since visiting the drama set, but everyone in this neighborhood, meaning Koreans, looked young. Lee So-ra, in her 30s, looked like a teenager to him.

At that time, he realized dating would be difficult for a while.

Even if he tried to date someone in their thirties, they probably wouldn’t want to date him, a minor, and conversely, he didn’t want to date someone his age, Nohaeil.

He had no interest in dating minors.

“She’s too young.”

“Huh? Joo Yeon-woo is two years older than you, President? President?”

Moon Seo-yeon was puzzled by his concise answer, but Halo re-entered the control room.

He decided to start working in earnest.

The Road To Glory [EN]

The Road To Glory [EN]

A Tidal Wave of Glory Glorious Tidal Wave Glory Tide 영광의 해일로
Status: Completed Author: Native Language: Korean
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[English Translation] In a world yearning for brilliance, one soul stands poised on the precipice of destiny. 'The Road To Glory / A Tidal Wave of Glory' is the saga of a life ignited by unwavering resolve. Prepare to be swept away by a torrent of ambition as our hero embarks on a relentless quest, fueled by the burning desire to leave an indelible mark on the world. This is not just a journey; it's a glorious tidal wave, a relentless surge towards a destiny ablaze with triumph. Will they rise to meet the challenge, or be consumed by the inferno of their own ambition? Dive into a world where every moment is a battle, and every victory is etched in the annals of glory. Prepare for 'The Road To Glory' – a tidal wave that will leave you breathless.

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