Top Star By Luck [EN]: Chapter 173

173. Vocal Training

Vocal training.

It literally meant learning how to sing.

Back in the 2000s, this was a specialized class for those who studied it or wanted to learn, and it was difficult to even find. Ordinary people wouldn’t even consider it unless they were extremely passionate about music.

But why was it that…

[Korean Voice Season 2 Exceeds 18% in Viewership!]

The 2010s in Korea.

An era where vocal academies popped up on every corner had arrived.

[3-Month Vocal Training Course to Master Vocalization: You Too Can Become Tomorrow’s National Star.]

[100% Refund If You Can’t Break Through 3 Octaves Within 1 Month.]

In Korea, singing was a kind of social skill.

To impress a girl you liked.

To have fun at gatherings.

To be the center of attention at university.

To score points at company dinners.

Or at least, to not feel inferior when going to karaoke with everyone else. People knocked on the doors of vocal academies with their own reasons in their hearts.

And most of them.

[You haven’t been practicing, so your skills haven’t improved. It’s difficult to give a refund.]

Were likely to return empty-handed without any significant results.

[But you said you’d break through 3 octaves in 1 month.]

[Yes, you did break through. Make a sound.]

[This isn’t 3 octaves. It’s just a falsetto that can’t be used in a song.]

[It’s because you haven’t been practicing properly. The path to making the sound is correct.]

[This is a complete scam. I’m going to publicize this online.]

[Let’s go to court then.]

Students who wanted to achieve quick results for their investment of money and time. Trainers who tried to make money by exploiting those fantasies.

[The Reason You Can’t Hit High Notes]

[They tell you to breathe with your diaphragm? That’s a common line from scammers.]

[You make sound with your neck, not your head.]

[8 Things You Don’t Know About Fake Trainer XXX]

It was only natural that distrust would slowly arise in the midst of the chaos where everyone was attacking each other.

In fact, if you had to be picky, the trainers also had their grievances.

Singing is inherently a very sensory area, and naturally, even with the same education, what you can gain depends on your talent, which can be as different as heaven and earth.

Talent isn’t everything.

Meeting a good trainer, and being chosen for an educational method that suits you, any of these could be called luck.

In this industry.

Today, a top-tier trainer blinked in disbelief.

‘…Am I hearing something wrong?’

It was because of the student in front of him.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.”

There was a man sharply hitting the piano scale with staccato [emphasizing each pronunciation].

He was probably in his late 20s. But because his impression was so gentle, it wouldn’t be strange to cast him as a high school student if he wore a uniform.

On the other hand, his well-trained physique flaunted its value even under a loose, oversized t-shirt.

If he walked down the street, 8 out of 10 people would turn around to look. The other 2 would secretly glance sideways, pretending not to look.

But today, the focus wasn’t on that visual.

It was on something else.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah.”

The voice itself.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah.”

Every time Lee Min-ki made a sound, the vocal trainer in charge, Trainer Han, tapped his fingers on the piano in disbelief.

Ding, ding, ding, ding.

Each time, a clear voice flowed from Lee Min-ki’s throat.

‘Wow, that sound isn’t supposed to come from someone who’s only been learning for 3 weeks.’

The quality of the sound was so excellent.

Tick.

Lee Min-ki, noticing that the trainer’s finger had stopped, said with a puzzled look.

“Did I make a mistake somewhere?”

“Ah, no. You did well. Let’s take a short break.”

“I’m okay with continuing without a break.”

“Taking breaks is also part of the lesson. Your throat must be tired. Fatigue builds up without you even realizing it.”

“Then I’ll go get some water. Should I get some for you too, teacher?”

“I brought my own tumbler.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Lee Min-ki smiled politely and left the lesson room.

After a few seconds, Trainer Han stared at the empty space he had left, his eyes filled with a vacant look.

‘Vocalization isn’t something you can learn in such a short period of time.’

Isn’t his absorption rate too different?

Some people claim that singing is determined solely by talent, but that’s something you can only say if you don’t know the truth.

Whether you learn 1 out of 5 or 10 out of 5, you still have to fill 10,000 to do anything.

Trainer Han had taught well over 1,000 students so far. Most of them were aspiring professionals or already professionals.

But for Lee Min-ki to be developing the fastest among them, what does that even mean?

‘Is it because he’s an actor? Did he learn vocalization for acting separately? No, the acting tone is too different. He clearly said he’s never taken vocal lessons anywhere.’

His progress was confusingly fast. As long as you chose the right direction, he would digest everything on his own. He was gaining multiple senses every lesson that others would struggle to acquire for months.

‘A world-class actor with that much talent for singing? No way.’

It was unbelievable.

No matter how he looked at it, it seemed like a practical music major was filming a hidden camera.

Why, isn’t that popular these days?

Going to lessons pretending to be someone learning to sing for the first time, then revealing their true colors as a talented person in such videos.

But Trainer Han knew from his long experience as a trainer.

‘He’s fixing things one by one.’

Lee Min-ki wasn’t revealing hidden skills, but gradually building up from the bottom.

In fact, this was entirely due to luck.

‘Is it because the teacher is teaching me well? I’m improving by leaps and bounds every lesson.’

Lee Min-ki.

Without even realizing it, he had found the teacher who suited him best.

A teacher who taught thoroughly based on senses, a somewhat old-fashioned method that was sometimes ridiculed, but preferred by those with talent.

‘He told me to pull the sound behind my nose, rotate it, and shoot it out through the top of my head.’

It was distant from the scientific vocalization methods that had been rapidly disseminated recently.

That side emphasizes gradually progressing from the bottom. Of course, the fact that anyone can achieve results is also a big factor.

On the other hand, in vocal training, sensory teaching methods often had vastly different effects depending on the student.

Because of that, trainers were often treated as scammers.

But why was it that…

‘He’s a famous trainer for a reason.’

Ironically, this was exactly what Lee Min-ki needed.

It was entirely thanks to luck.

The luck to always pick the right path out of the ten possible sound paths, even when making a single sound.

While others spent a month practicing, repeatedly returning after realizing that this wasn’t the right path, Lee Min-ki never made a single wrong choice as he moved towards the correct vocalization.

He only chose the right senses.

It was as if he had been blessed by the heavens, no, it was because he was actually accompanied by heaven-sent luck.

“If you’ve rested, let’s start again.”

“Yes.”

“Then this time, let’s practice something a little difficult.”

The lesson had already started again.

The trainer was filled with one desire.

The desire to see the student in front of him make a mistake even once.

It might feel somewhat twisted, but seeing the student succeed in everything he taught made the teacher’s existence feel faint.

This time, he wanted to see Lee Min-ki struggle for 1 hour, no, even just 10 minutes.

‘I hate myself for thinking this, but still.’

Trainer Han said to Lee Min-ki with that thought in mind.

“Whistle register.”

Whistle register.

That was the ultra-high-pitched vocalization method commonly referred to as dolphin sounds.

Before starting the practice, Trainer Han said to Lee Min-ki as if urging him.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it. The whistle register is difficult to use in singing anyway, and there are hardly any songs that use it. It’s just a gimmick. But I use it as a practice method.”

“A practice method?”

“Even if you can’t make the whistle register, practicing it helps you get a sense of how to release tension in your throat.”

The whistle register was special even among vocalization methods.

It’s not something that can be obtained through repeated practice. It’s a vocalization method that relies purely on sensation. Some people can do it, and some people can’t. But once you can do it, you can keep doing it.

Moreover, it actually helped with vocal practice.

‘I don’t teach unnecessary things.’

Trainer Han reaffirmed his belief.

Once you get it, there will be great progress. Even if you fail, there’s nothing to regret.

“Okay, this is how you do it. Whee-”

Trainer Han stretched out a beautiful voice as if demonstrating.

The whistle sound that flowed out smoothly like linen curled up as if doing a somersault in the air, and soon rose to the same sound as that of a dolphin.

“Okay, try to follow along.”

It was Lee Min-ki’s turn.

It wouldn’t be strange even if he failed. Rather, it’s normal to fail.

And.

“Wik.”

Lee Min-ki actually made a mistake.

“Ugh.”

Lee Min-ki, sensing that his throat was blocked, frowned and grabbed his neck.

Unlike what had been going smoothly so far, even with his strong luck, he couldn’t do the whistle register right away.

‘So even the actor is human.’

He failed.

Trainer Han, who finally witnessed the failure, even felt a sense of relief and said.

“You probably won’t be able to do it. But don’t worry. There are more people who can’t do it than those who can.”

It was a consolation.

He didn’t know who he was trying to comfort, but by comforting Lee Min-ki, he finally felt like he was doing his job as a teacher.

After all, no one is perfect.

Everyone gradually develops by repeating mistakes.

He was also preparing to throw out that kind of famous saying one by one.

“Ah, I think I can do it if I try again.”

Lee Min-ki muttered to himself.

“Whee-.”

When he tried for the second time.

“…….”

Cold sweat ran down Trainer Han’s forehead.

He failed.

The second whistle register attempt also failed.

But it was clearly a half-step further than the first attempt.

‘What is it?’

Just as Trainer Han was anxiously blinking, Lee Min-ki frowned and straightened his body in a neat line.

A straight spine like a pianist who had been playing the piano in the correct posture for a long time. The moment his lungs, throat, and mouth were neatly lined up like a chain connected in a straight line.

“Whee-.”

The third attempt flowed from Lee Min-ki’s mouth.

“Eup, I don’t think this is it.”

When Lee Min-ki finished the sound and muttered in a still dissatisfied voice, Trainer Han finally burst into laughter.

‘Talent X ruined game [Talent multiplied by ruined game, meaning his talent is so overwhelming it breaks the game].’