Become A Music Monster Overnight! [EN]: Chapter 15

6. Black Tiger.

Despite the 30,000 won entrance fee, they surged into the rock cafe, bumping and jostling for space.

Their goal was to secure even a slightly better spot near the stage, in the unreserved area.

Excitement flushed their faces, despite some minor squabbles.

The reason? They’d heard music of an intensity rarely experienced in such a venue.

-God Singer? Ha! Is C’est la vie already scraping the bottom of the barrel? Bringing in some YouTuber?

-Studio music is a different beast than a live performance. He’ll crack under the pressure. Just wait.

-If we film his meltdown, the views are guaranteed.

-What gave him the nerve to show up here?

Most were driven by curiosity, drawn by the buzz around the YouTube sensation, God Singer, but expectations were low.

These days, musicians often inflate their abilities with increasingly sophisticated technology.

In the indie scene, many believe that true music can only be found on stage, raw and unfiltered.

But then…

The God Singer they encountered lived up to his name, delivering a mind-blowing performance.

Didn’t people say his arrangements and covers were the ‘sincere version’?

The moment his music hit them, it felt like a punch from the protagonist of some Japanese manga – a raw, heartfelt blow.
The music alone, seeping through the walls, had been impressive; now, witnessing it live, their excitement reached fever pitch.

Ignoring the complimentary beer that came with their tickets, they waited for their hero.

At the heart of this captivated audience stood Kwak Do-hoon.

The moment he heard ‘Old Soldiers Never Die (90’s),’ he understood.

He understood why this ‘ultra monster’ wanted old-timers like them.

-Da-da-da-da-dang!

During the ensuing jam session with Jang Tae-shik, chills ran down Kwak Do-hoon’s spine.

“Wow!”

“C, crazy!”

“Encore! Encore! Please, encore!”

Young-chan chuckled, watching the audience spontaneously erupt in demands for an encore, the stage having transcended time itself. Jang Tae-shik, meanwhile, dabbed at his tear-reddened eyes.

Yesterday’s experience was no fluke, he realized.

Young-chan smiled at Kwak Do-hoon, who stood silently trembling amidst the encore chants.

“I need a drummer.”

“Jesus!!!”

His words seemed divinely ordained.

Before he knew it, Kwak Do-hoon, who had involuntarily cried out to God, found himself holding drumsticks on stage, just as Jang Tae-shik had the day before.

His eyes darted across the sheet music adapted for him, allowing him to prepare quickly.

“Then let’s do it.”

At Young-chan’s casual words, the heat of the stage reignited as Kwak Do-hoon’s drumsticks began to dance.

-Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Du-du-du-du-du!-

The powerful drumbeats, as forceful as his large frame, exploded like a barrage of bullets, followed by Young-chan’s guitar and Jang Tae-shik’s frantic keyboard work.

“Wow! Crazy!”

It sounded as if they had been rehearsing together for ages.

They would have been shocked to learn that they were practically strangers who had never practiced together.

The addition of a single instrument transformed ‘Old Soldiers Never Die (90’s)’ into a richer, fuller song, its quality elevated to an astonishing degree.

“!!!!”

The audience was so stunned that they covered their mouths, wanting to etch this performance, this song, into their memories.

Even in the crowded venue, the speakers performed flawlessly, delivering crystal-clear sound.

After a whirlwind of 6 minutes and 20 seconds, followed by another 30 seconds of stunned silence, the audience snapped back to reality.

-Wow!

Amidst the frenzied cheers, Young-chan grinned and turned to his masters.

Jang Tae-shik was wiping his eyes again, and Kwak Do-hoon, overcome with passion, silently pleaded with Young-chan.

‘Again! One more time!’

Anticipating this, Young-chan raised a finger to the roaring crowd.

“We’ll do it again. This time, let’s enjoy it with cheers.”

The prospect of reliving that ecstatic experience sent the crowd into another frenzy, and soon ‘Old Soldiers Never Die (90’s)’ filled the air once more.

-Boom! Boom! Boom…-

The drums thundered like screams, the keyboard surged through the venue like angry waves, and the guitar poured down on the cheering crowd like a torrential rain.

The windows rattled as if struggling to contain the noise, drawing the attention of passersby outside.

In this second rendition of ‘Old Soldiers Never Die (90’s),’ Jang Tae-shik and Kwak Do-hoon poured every ounce of their being into the performance.

-Heeuuk. Haaa.

When the song ended, they were barely able to stand.

It wasn’t just their age.

They had been forced to push their skills beyond their limits.

“Fucking! Haa haa. I think I’ve smoked all my cigarettes now.”

Only then did Kwak Do-hoon truly understand Young-chan’s advice to abstain from alcohol and cigarettes.

Jang Tae-shik felt the same way.

‘Should I take some tonic [a medicinal drink to restore energy]?’

Despite trembling and feeling on the verge of collapse, Jang Tae-shik and Kwak Do-hoon didn’t find the pain unpleasant.

It was as sweet as honey, and they craved another taste.

That sound, born from exceeding their limits, left them with a temptation more addictive than any drug.

However, unlike them, Young-chan was brimming with energy.

This was natural.

While they had been pushing their limits, Young-chan had been holding back, carefully managing his skills to guide them.

He had deliberately nerfed his own abilities to capture the unique sensibility of the 7080 generation [Korean pop music from the 1970s and 1980s].

In baseball terms, it was like sacrificing speed for control.

“That’s it for here. From now on, it’s my stage.”

“….Holy shit!”

“….I understand.”

Jang Tae-shik and Kwak Do-hoon, disappointed but aware of their limitations, had to accept his words.

After they left the stage, Young-chan played seven more songs, each met with increasingly enthusiastic cheers.

These weren’t original compositions.

He performed cover songs he had uploaded to his YouTube channel.

Starting with Queen’s legendary Bohemian Rhapsody and ending with Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven, he delivered stunning renditions of rock masterpieces.

Despite being accompanied only by a guitar and his voice, the nearly 1,000 audience members felt that nothing was missing.

Especially during Jimmy Page’s guitar solo in Led Zeppelin’s Stairway To Heaven, the stage fell silent as if under a spell.

It wasn’t just the audience who were amazed.

Jang Tae-shik and Kwak Do-hoon, cooling down with ice water and wet towels, stared blankly at Young-chan on stage.

“….Is he really human?”

“Hehehe. At this rate, I really have no choice but to honor the contract.”

The moment they heard the Stairway To Heaven guitar solo, they understood.

They were holding Young-chan back.

Realizing that they, the band members who should be supporting him, were actually hindering him, they felt a mixture of awe and self-reproach.

“Damn it! I have to tell them to come prepared.”

“Hahaha.”

Jang Tae-shik laughed like an idiot at Kwak Do-hoon’s words, who pitied his friends for missing out on the best experience of their lives.

He knew that he had to dedicate himself completely to music from now on.

“Please let me in!”

“Don’t you know me? I’m a regular here!”

“Who is that person?”

“Oh? God Singer?”

“This isn’t the only time he’s performing on stage, right?”

“Don’t you have albums or anything?”

“Why are there so many people?”

“Stop posting on SNS, you bastards! They keep gathering!”

While the inside of the venue was a frenzy of cheers, the outside was in chaos due to the influx of people.

Having already admitted over 1,000 people, they couldn’t allow any more inside.

Even without external speakers, the music emanating from within had captivated passersby.

The phenomenon was both surprising and not.

Unless completely uninterested in music, how could anyone resist a performance by a world-class musician that money couldn’t buy?

The commotion subsided only after Young-chan came off stage.

“Such a mess from early evening!”

If the rumors spread, one or two security guards wouldn’t be enough to control the crowds, Jang Tae-shik worried.

Young-chan, looking as energetic as if he hadn’t sung over ten songs, quenched his thirst with a newly released iced tea.

Unlike before his performance, the employee who brought the iced tea was visibly trembling.

Most of the employees were musicians, and for them, it was like meeting an idol they never knew they had.

-Crunch, crunch-

Kwak Do-hoon couldn’t help but tremble at the sight of Young-chan, who had already emptied his glass and was chewing on the ice as if parched.

Young-chan’s demeanor, somewhat bored compared to his electrifying stage presence, felt surreal.

‘Ultra monster!’

It was like witnessing a cosmic monster that tore apart giant heroes.

Kwak Do-hoon couldn’t contain his curiosity.

“Why, why did you only reveal yourself to the world now?”

Young-chan shrugged.

“Is that important?”

“….No. That’s not important. Yes, there’s something else that’s important. So, did I pass? Or did I fail?”

“Hahaha.”

Young-chan burst out laughing at Kwak Do-hoon’s question, which betrayed his hidden anxiety.

“Hahaha! From the moment you got on stage, you’re my colleague. Didn’t you know?”

“Euhahahaha!”

Kwak Do-hoon realized he had asked a foolish question.

He laughed for a long time, and Young-chan smiled, surveying the chaotic venue.

Inside, a recording of Young-chan’s recent performance played on the projector, exciting the crowd and eliciting cheers.

The next day.

Before evening, lines began to form around C’est la vie.

Some coffee drinkers, unaware of the reason, looked bewildered before leaving in disappointment when the store closed an hour earlier than usual.

At the center of the now-empty store stood a group of ordinary-looking men.

Besides Jang Tae-shik and Kwak Do-hoon, three other men waited with excited expressions.

A short but sturdy man with orange hair and a bass guitar beside him spoke.

“So when is that real monster coming?”

“Monster? Ha! It’s a beast!”

“Monster or beast, it doesn’t matter!”

“It does matter. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have dropped everything to come.”

At Kwak Do-hoon’s words, bassist Moon Il-beom flinched before nodding obediently. The video he had taken the day before had been that shocking.

As if to prove it, the area around the store was already lined with people, coiled like a snake.