The Hit Song of This Life Is Revenge - Chapter 20

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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My Hit Song in This Life Is Revenge
Episode 20
Jae-i deliberately mingled with the staff, greeting them with a bright demeanor.
Smiling cheerfully and keeping the conversation going, she kept her ears sharply attuned to her surroundings.
‘I thought they would be here…….’
The voice she had heard backstage at the festival was nowhere to be found.
Was it because access was restricted to anyone outside the production crew?
As the owner of that voice seemed to slip further away, a growing knot of discomfort began to settle in a corner of her chest.
But she couldn’t afford to spend all her time chasing after a phantom.
“Sigh-.”
Jae-i tilted her head back and let out a breath that felt less like nervousness and more like sheer frustration.
Eliminations would begin in earnest starting with today’s shoot.
“Ahem, hem!”
“Me, mi-i-i—”
Although today’s Mission hadn’t been officially revealed yet, it seemed everyone had already caught on.
CEO Kang had also given her a heads-up in advance.
He said there was a high probability this Mission would be a vocal showdown.
However, it wouldn’t be a simple stage just to show off singing skills.
The reason Season 3 had garnered such massive popularity was precisely due to its brutal evaluation methods.
“Ah—, ah-ah—! Whew.”
From the corner of the communal waiting room, a voice suddenly soared.
Jae-i turned her head toward the sound.
‘Kim Se-jin…….’
As the powerful voice resonated through the air, the eyes of those nearby briefly drifted toward her.
As if conscious of the attention, Se-jin quickly pulled her shoulders in and continued her vocal warm-up.
In terms of pure singing ability alone, she was a much more formidable opponent than Baek Song-ha.
Yet, Se-jin was fated to ruin her stage today.
Jae-i pushed herself up.
As she took a step closer, Se-jin stopped her vocalization, looking startled.
“I really enjoyed your performance the other day.”
“Ah……. Yes, thank you.”
A tense Se-jin replied stiffly.
“Whew! I’m incredibly nervous today. I noticed our seats are right next to each other, so it’s nice to meet you.”
Jae-i offered a bright smile and extended her hand.
Se-jin hesitated for a moment before taking her hand.
A brief greeting and a shared smile.
Jae-i didn’t press the conversation further.
A natural introduction was more than enough for now.
The actual moment to extend a helping hand would come later.
Before long, a staff member’s voice echoed out, announcing that filming was about to begin.
Jae-i offered Se-jin a warm eye-smile and turned to walk out first.
* * *
The seating arrangement had changed.
The Trainees who had received favorable reviews during the last shoot were seated in the center.
And right in the absolute center sat Baek Song-ha.
Scanning the rows, Jae-i locked eyes with Song-ha.
Jae-i narrowed her eyes into a faint smile, but Song-ha whipped her head away instantly.
‘I guess that’s because the cameras aren’t rolling yet, huh?’
As the dazzling lights crisscrossed, the spotlight fell squarely upon the host.
“Trainees, let me introduce your next Mission.”
With a heavy thudding sound effect, text materialized on the screen.

This time, Judge Moon Jung-woo, the veteran singer, picked up his microphone.
“It is now time to meet the vocalists who will truly move our hearts.”
Sighs of relief escaped from various corners of the room.
The camera near the judges’ bench began to shift.
It was a distance from which the Trainees couldn’t hear.
With their microphones switched off, the judges leaned in close to one another.
“The Trainees are completely in the dark right now. Even professional singers would panic under these conditions.”
“Dealing with the unexpected is also a form of talent.”
Moon Jung-woo’s gaze held more cold calculation than anticipation.
The camera pulled back, capturing the judges’ expressions filled with a mix of worry and expectation.
“Trainees, please select the individual song you feel most confident performing.”
At the host’s explanation, a surge of energy swept through the waiting benches.
The zooming camera lens caught the excited expressions flitting across the Trainees’ faces.
‘When this broadcasts, they’ll probably slap a caption on the screen like [Oblivious to what lies ahead].’
Jae-i let a smile trace her lips as well.
It was only natural to blend in rather than stand out alone for no reason.
“The order will be determined by drawing lots. Furthermore, Trainees will remain in a separately designated waiting area until your specific sequence is called.”
The host approached the benches carrying a large box.
The drawing of lots was conducted in a thoroughly primitive fashion.
Reaching inside the box, each person pulled out a slip of paper with a number written on it to confirm their slot.
However, instructions were given not to unfold them prematurely so that the big reveal could be captured in a single shot.
Just as the host was passing the final row, a sharp gasp erupted from the seat beside her.
“Ah.”
Jae-i glanced over to find Se-jin’s face completely cast in shadow.
‘She must have drawn number one.’
The very first slot to face the most brutal gimmick of this entire Mission.
There was no way a girl plagued by stage fright could properly execute a performance that contained a hidden, agonizing twist.
Moreover, in this kind of survival-style Mission, going first offered absolutely no advantage.
Unless, of course, one had prior knowledge.
Jae-i spoke to Se-jin in a calm, soothing tone.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
Se-jin hurriedly concealed the slip of paper beneath her thigh.
Jae-i slowly unfolded her own slip to show her.
[Number 33]
Se-jin’s gaze locked onto the paper before snapping straight up to meet Jae-i’s eyes.
“Want to trade?”
At the quiet whisper, Se-jin’s fluttering eyelashes betrayed a whirlwind of inner conflict.
Jae-i simply maintained a gentle, quiet smile.
‘You can’t afford to get eliminated today.’
Se-jin’s lips parted hesitantly.
“Do you know what my number is?”
“I don’t, but it clearly bothers you, right? The order doesn’t really matter to me.”
Se-jin’s gaze dropped back down to Jae-i’s hand.
The digits for [Number 33] gleamed clearly upon her open palm.
Se-jin swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.
“……Are you really okay with this?”
“Yes, I’m fine with whatever.”
At the quiet, unwavering response, Se-jin squeezed her eyes shut.
In that breathless instant, their fingertips brushed, and the numbered slips were exchanged.
The paper rustled faintly, yet to Se-jin’s ears, it sounded exceptionally loud.
“Thank you…….”
Se-jin bowed her head low.
As a wave of relief washed over her, Se-jin quickly managed to regain her usual composure.
“Good luck out there.”
At Jae-i’s calm encouragement, Se-jin nodded quietly in return.
The host, having completed his rounds across all five rows of benches, finally spoke.
“Trainees, please raise your numbered slips toward the camera.”
[Number 1]
A stark white light fell directly over Jae-i’s head.
“Trainee Lee Jae-i will be delivering our very first stage!”
In that exact moment, her gaze locked with Song-ha’s, who was staring right at her.
The corners of Song-ha’s mouth smirked upward.
Baek Song-ha had undoubtedly wished for Jae-i’s name to be called first above all else.
Since she wouldn’t have been able to rig the actual drawing of lots.
‘I bet you think God is on your side right now.’
For now, at least.
Jae-i did her best to mask her true expressions behind a carefully feigned look of panic.
“With the exception of Trainee Lee Jae-i, all other Trainees please follow the staff and move to the waiting area.”
Leaving behind a gaze heavy with a sense of debt, Se-jin departed from the room.
Jae-i was left entirely alone on the benches from which everyone had filed out.
“Now that makes for a perfect shot.”
Producer Son Hyun-joo, who had been watching the scene unfold, muttered to herself.
The numbering wasn’t something they had staged.
To think it would land so perfectly like that.
In Hyun-joo’s mind, the editing points were already falling into place.
‘Finishing second with 90 points in the first episode. Wrap that up, and then tease the blackout stage in the preview for the second episode…….’
Then, receiving a memo handed to her, Hyun-joo’s head tilted sharply in confusion.
“She said she’s performing this song?”
“Yes. She insists on this one.”
Instantly, her envisioned editing sequence fell apart.
Jae-i’s song choice was countless lives.
It was undeniably a masterpiece.
However, this particular track featured a high note that ascended like a steep staircase during the climax.
More than anything, a song like this required the accompaniment to properly support it for the highlight to truly shine.
‘Of all things, she had to pick this one.’
If it were possible, Hyun-joo wanted to tell her to change it to another track.
“Is the audio track ready for this?”
“Yes, we can cue it up immediately.”
Cruelly enough, the confirmation was incredibly swift.
She crossed her arms, letting out a low snort through her nose.
‘Surely……. she won’t get eliminated, right?’
Recalling the glimpse of Jae-i she had witnessed back in the Meeting Room, Hyun-joo pinned her hopes on her.
“Give the cue sign once everything is set.”
The stage arrangement underwent a transformation.
The surrounding house lights were cut, leaving only a solitary beam illuminating the exact center of the stage.
“Trainee Lee Jae-i. Please proceed to the stage.”
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jae-i stepped forward.
As she stood beneath the circular spotlight, Judge Moon Jung-woo’s voice resounded through the space.
“Personally, your last stage left a very deep impression on me. Can I look forward to something great today as well?”
“Yes. I will do my absolute best.”
Jae-i opted for a standard response to ensure she appeared suitably nervous.
The moment Judge Moon Jung-woo lowered his microphone, the intro began to play.
Notes drifted in like a creeping fog.
She quietly lowered her eyelids, surrendering her senses entirely to the melody.
The camera also moved subtly, gently locked onto its angle.
“It keeps growing, and it becomes so clear.”
Judge Moon Jung-woo, whose face had remained entirely expressionless throughout, twitched his brow.
“Even if we pass through countless lives, you know we’ll end up right here.”
It was a delicate, mesmerizing timbre, sounding as though a gentle breeze had just brushed against the eardrums.
For a song that required pure emotional delivery, the introduction was always the most difficult hurdle.
Adding too much technique made it excessive, while whispering too softly made it difficult to command attention.
A slight tremor in the breath at the tail end of the phrase.
Was it a calculated performance, or a moment of extreme immersion?
“Oh— this isn’t just for you, these words are for me too.”
A flawless execution of pitch correction on the fly.
‘She intended that.’
Moon Jung-woo went beyond mere surprise; he found himself slightly taken aback.
The climax hadn’t even arrived yet, yet she was drawing in this level of focus.
There were no gasps for air where the breath should hold, nor were there any slipped notes.
The verse flowed by, entirely captivating.
“countless lives to me, that’s all you are. oh-O.”
The high note, stepping up a level, cleanly scaled the platform.
Moon Jung-woo was now reaching a point of genuine regret.
‘To think it has to be cut here.’
Right at the absolute highlight of the piece.
Just as the second high note was about to break through, the backing track abruptly cut out.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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