Chapter 30: Heavenly Voice (4)

The song began.

The first voice that came through was the host’s—Raidel.

“Ugh.”

At the sound of Raidel’s voice, Shin Changseok grimaced.

“Ahem.”

Kim Seokhoon, sitting beside him, cleared his throat awkwardly.

On screen, Raidel was singing with the passion of a nightingale, and her face was undeniably beautiful—enough to be called a stunner.

But her singing was not.

‘Her breath control is nonexistent. Her phrasing’s all over the place.’

It was clearly a mellow song.

It should’ve been a mellow song, but Raidel’s slender neck was bulging with tension as she sang with a red face.

You could tell she was trying really hard.

The problem was—she had nothing but effort.

For a song like this, that kind of forcefulness was a negative.

‘Her tone is unstable. Her pitch keeps wavering too.’

Kim Seokhoon finished his evaluation in seconds.

“I haven’t been watching these online streams for long. Are vocals like this popular now?”

Shin Changseok mumbled, wearing a what-is-this expression.

“She just bulldozes through everything with no dynamics. There’s no emotional flow. Sounds more like she’s yelling than singing.”

Both professionals gave technical explanations,

But the truth was simple: she was just yelling the song however she wanted.

A vocalist who knew nothing but charging forward without a pause.

That was Raidel’s style.

Despite being a streamer, she had taken vocal lessons to prepare for karaoke content.

But her bad habit of straining her throat never went away.

‘Even with ten thousand viewers, this is… hmm. Maybe it’s a gag bit?’

Shin Changseok thought to himself.

Up until now, Raidel had always picked upbeat songs for her karaoke streams.

Lighter, fun songs fit her casual stream vibe better than anything too deep or heavy.

In those, her all-passion-no-technique style didn’t stand out as much.

But this time, the song had been picked by Yoo Seoyeon.

And the current song was a track by a British band—something that oozed London’s gloom.

A song that demanded delicate emotional nuance, not shouting with veins popping.

Even to a casual listener, it was a disaster. To these two music producers, it was an assault on the ears.

“I can’t listen to this anymore.”

“Probably for the best.”

They hadn’t expected much from an amateur, but this was brutal.

Then—

“~♪♬”

A voice came from behind.

“Hmm.”

The mouse that had been heading for the X on the browser window froze.

A voice completely unlike Raidel’s.

The messy atmosphere fell completely still.

Shin Changseok unconsciously crossed his arms.

It was a habit of his when he focused on music.

Kim Seokhoon, beside him, had his mouth slightly open. He stopped moving.

“~♬”

The voice pouring out from the monitor filled the room.

A dreamy synthesizer, characteristic of European bands,

And a chill guitar riff layered behind it.

Over that low, echoing guitar line came Yoo Seoyeon’s voice.

Her voice melted into the instruments.

Delicate, yet deep.

Both men closed their eyes.

A lonely street in London.

Sidewalks damp with drizzle.

Fog blurring beneath faint streetlamps.

A distant blues tune floating through the air.

As they listened,

It didn’t feel like they were in a studio in Bangbae-dong.

It felt like they were right in the foggy heart of London.

“Wow. Hyung. This person…”

“Shh.”

Shin Changseok pressed a finger to his lips.

Kim Seokhoon also shut his mouth, without another word.

The longer the song went on, the quieter even their breathing became.

It felt like her voice was taking up the entire space.

Of course—

“Ugh.”

“Hey, can you mute just one person? I’m not sure how this platform works.”

“You can’t mute just one. But from the chat, sounds like this ‘Silver’ doesn’t even stream normally.”

Every time Raidel’s ‘soulful’ vocals burst back in, their faces twisted again.

The desire to mute just Raidel’s voice was growing stronger and stronger.

Unfortunately, Forest TV didn’t have that function.

So they had to endure, just to keep listening to Yoo Seoyeon.

Still—

‘Wait. Is Raidel’s voice fading?’

It seemed even Raidel herself sensed something was off.

More precisely, she was being overwhelmed.

While Silver sang naturally,

Raidel’s voice gradually receded,

Until eventually, it sounded like she’d handed the whole song over.

《~♩♬》

Before long, the song ended.

The two men opened their eyes.

The room felt unfamiliar—like they’d just come back from a short trip.

“That’s it, huh.”

With a faint sense of longing,

Shin Changseok stared silently at the monitor.

“What’d you think?”

“Hmm.”

Normally, he’d give his verdict in under ten seconds.

After all, he was a seasoned pro who’d heard it all. Judging one singer was as routine as breathing.

But this time, five minutes passed, and he still didn’t speak.

‘It wasn’t perfect.’

Sure, the atmosphere had overwhelmed him—

But this ‘Silver’ hadn’t used any flashy vocal tricks.

This wasn’t the voice of someone professionally trained.

So, no—it wasn’t perfect.

‘But even without training, she felt it instinctively.’

Her voice existed in a space beyond technique.

She instinctively knew where to fill the gaps in the music—where emotion was needed.

So even with a lack of technique, the music felt full.

‘And that vibe… It’s been a while.’

She didn’t just imitate London’s gloom.

She sang like someone who’d breathed that air.

That’s what captivated Shin Changseok.

Something intangible. Something that couldn’t be measured by data.

The kind of music that truly ‘moved the heart.’

“I’m not sure.”

“That means she’s really good, right?”

“…Yeah.”

Kim Seokhoon smiled faintly. He’d felt the same way.

“She doesn’t seem to stream regularly. Should we try reaching out?”

There was confidence in his tone.

Shin Changseok was a hit-making composer and producer.

Seokhoon, though in a different lane, was a hitmaker too.

If they both tried to contact her, there was no way she’d refuse.

“I’d love to, but aren’t we kind of buried right now?”

“Ugh. Yeah. If only we weren’t swamped.”

Truthfully, they wanted to go find this ‘Silver’ immediately.

But they were currently knee-deep in a major entertainment agency project.

“We’ve got way too much piled up. That’s why we’re still here tonight.”

An idol group that had taken years to prepare was about to debut.

With so little time left, they had to give it everything.

It was a massive project they couldn’t half-ass. There was no room for side work.

“No rush, right? If it’s meant to happen, we’ll meet her later.”

“You’re right. But man… what a shame.”

Kim Seokhoon sighed deeply and checked his phone.

“Alright. I gotta go. You hang in there too, hyung.”

“I need to head out too. Clean up for me, yeah?”

“Why are you dumping the chores on me?”

“You want a man my age to do it?”

The two bickered as they shut down the laptop.

They wanted to keep watching—but sadly, duty called.

---

“Whew.”

I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Silence.

The duet with Raidel had come to an end.

‘It didn’t sound bad, right?’

I cleared my throat awkwardly.

‘I sang like I would at karaoke…’

At least it didn’t feel like a total disaster.

Once I started giving it my all—

‘Hmm? This part feels kind of empty.’

‘If I fill it here… Ah. So that’s the intention.’

Hard to explain,

But I instinctively knew how to sing the song.

‘Here—put some force into it.’

‘Here—ease up, go slower.’

I’d never studied music, so I couldn’t explain it.

But I think I managed to capture the vibe of the song.

At the very least, it didn’t feel like a failure.

‘Still, I’m kinda nervous to check chat.’

Up until I sang, the atmosphere had been great.

I turned my eyes to Raidel’s chat.

[Wooooow…….]

[Holy sh*t that was insane.]

[I don’t know music but I know that was good.]

[The vibe was unreal.]

[Felt like I was watching an opera…]

[‘Jung Hwaja’ donated 1,000 won!]

– Wait… are we sure that wasn’t a track?

[No way.]

[Completely different voice LOL]

[Still sounded like the original singer though.]

[‘NightmareBus’ donated 1,000 won!]

– My broken earphones fixed themselves.

[Yeah, they’d fix themselves for that voice…]

[My clogged ears popped open too.]

[My cat suddenly started speaking English.]

Seeing the chat,

I let out a breath of relief.

My first karaoke stream,

Thankfully, was met with praise.

---

TL Note:

• “펀치!” or “Punch!” spammed in the previous part’s chat is a meme-like chant expressing excitement or support, similar to “Let’s go!” or “Hype!”
• “Heueung” (from previous part) is a whimper used to show flustered or affectionate reactions.
• “Delbung” is a nickname derived from Raidel’s name, used by fans.