The Hit Song of This Life Is Revenge - Chapter 44

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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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In this life, the hit song is revenge.
Episode 44
Casey’s voice carried a distinct, unusual weight.
“Is everyone finished?”
Lee Jae-i pulled up a chair and sat down.
Stepping briskly to the front, Casey scanned the trainees.
“You all watched yesterday’s broadcast, right?”
“Yes.”
The reply was thick with tension.
This time, access to the bulletin board had been blocked after the ending cut.
They were told it couldn’t be opened yet because viewer stories were still being submitted.
Casey raised the remote control in his hand.
“Alright, please focus now.”
When he pressed the button, the white wall filling one side of the Lecture Room lit up with a projector beam.
[Story Submission Board]
Every gaze locked onto the words that appeared clearly on the wall.
“These are the stories currently being received.”
The rows of text filling the screen made their soaring popularity feel incredibly real.
“You will create a self-composed song based on these stories and perform it on Stage.”
Casey continued his explanation composedly.
“Now, I will announce the final theme.”
The air grew so taut it felt as though one could hear nerves fraying.
Then came a soft click.
Everyone gasped at the sound of the button being pressed.
[Love, Affection (愛)]
An effect like pink flowers blooming against a stark white background brought the letters into view.
Once the text stopped moving, Casey spoke up.
“Without a doubt, it’s the theme that inspires the most. However, there are many different kinds.”
His expression deepened a fraction.
“Fluttering hearts, anticipation. Even anxiety is an emotion born from love.”
Up to that point, it was just a standard explanation.
But his next words shattered everyone’s focus.
“To expand it further, leaning on someone is also a steadfast form of love.”
Why did a specific face flash across her mind at that exact sentence?
Of all times, right now.
At her tense fingertips, the sensation of his engraved initials rushed back with vivid clarity.
Lee Jae-i bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.
‘Focus.’
When she snapped her eyes open, her gaze locked with Casey’s.
“You just need to write a song where that single word can be felt. The content can be absolutely anything.”
Casey spoke like a textbook.
Matching his rigidity, Lee Jae-i built another layer around the walls of her heart.
If there was any solace, it was that the theme hadn’t changed.
Thanks to that, she could already foresee what kind of sparks the competition would ignite.
Whether confessions or breakups.
There would be plenty of performances depicting romantic love.
‘I have to unravel someone else’s story.’
To do that, the absolute first requirement was empathy.
A story read not with the eyes, but with the heart.
She knew exactly what she needed to choose, but whether such a story actually existed remained a mystery.
Just as everyone’s worries were deepening, Casey called for their attention again.
“Submissions will open until this evening. Then tomorrow morning, each of you will select your story.”
His calm tone felt even more brutal.
In reality, the time they had left to focus purely on the track was barely five days.
They had to assume there would be no time for revisions.
‘It has to be fast, and it has to be perfect.’
The sentence piled a heavy layer of pressure onto them.
Yet, that was the only option.
Resignation drifted through the eyes of the trainees.
Though every face was filled with urgency, no one dared to speak up.
Because in a survival show, simply surviving was the only rule.
“Now. Today, we are going to practice. It’s an exercise in turning a viewer’s story into lyrics.”
A file began to play.
A melody without any lyrics filled the Lecture Room.
The number displayed on the Screen was thirty seconds.
Once the audio track ended, Casey slowly scanned the trainees.
“Form pairs. You will listen to each other’s stories and write lyrics to this track.”
Without any time to prepare, the Lecture Room fell into a stir.
Right then, an elbow lightly brushed against her.
“Let’s partner up.”
The person pressing close was Kim Cho-a.
Without realizing it, Lee Jae-i’s response came half a beat late.
“What?”
“You don’t want to?”
Faced with the blunt question, Lee Jae-i slowly relaxed her facial muscles to avoid revealing her inner thoughts.
“Of course not, let’s do it together.”
Yeon Eun-soo’s bobbed hair swayed with a sharp snap.
Though she didn’t turn her head very far, her gaze was far more pointed than before.
That sharp look flashed between her and Kim Cho-a.
As soon as Yeon Eun-soo let out a huff and turned back to face forward, the projector screen changed.
[-15:00:00]
“Once your pairs are set, take fifteen minutes each to talk. The topic doesn’t matter.”
Casey’s voice rang out, organizing the room.
As the space divided into four sections, Casey raised his arm.
In the span of a single second.
The surroundings erupted into a sudden chatter.
Kim Cho-a also turned her body and slid closer to her.
“Is there anything that bothers you the most when you sing? Like a jinx, for example.”
Lee Jae-i hesitated over her answer.
Partly because she had nothing to say, but even if she did, it wasn’t a topic she particularly wanted to bring up.
“I don’t know. I’ve never really thought about stuff like that.”
Despite the halting answer, Kim Cho-a’s questions only grew faster.
As the inquiries poured down one after another, Lee Jae-i felt a strange sense of dissonance.
What on earth did she want to cram into a thirty-second track?
And above all, she didn’t ask about the most crucial emotion.
The moment she reached that simple doubt, the time ran out.
Even though the roles had reversed, the one to open her mouth first was still Kim Cho-a.
“Can I say what’s on my mind first?”
“What is it?”
Kim Cho-a didn’t even seem to deliberate before her mouth began to move.
“If there’s ever anything I don’t know, can I ask you? If there’s anything I can do to help you, I’ll do it gladly!”
“It’ll be great if we can do that for each other.”
Kim Cho-a’s gestures seemed genuine.
Her words were wholesome, and on the surface, there was absolutely nothing wrong.
But a few minutes later.
When they revealed the lyrics they had written based on each other’s stories, a massive question mark popped up.
‘……?’
The lyrics Kim Cho-a had written resembled a review essay rather than a song.
Furthermore, sentences she had never even spoken were being recited.
In that instant, Lee Jae-i felt certain.
This was nothing more than surveillance.
And inwardly, she quietly retraced the girl’s words.
‘Sure. The time might really come when I need your help.’
* * *
The next morning.
An announcement came down for them to gather in the Audio-Visual Room.
Lee Jae-i intentionally quickened her pace to catch up next to Yeon Eun-soo.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah.”
The crisp texture of that single syllable was exceptionally distinct.
It was a transparent display of pouting.
Ever since they left the Lodging, Yeon Eun-soo had been walking half a beat faster.
Even so, the moment she spoke to her, those steps slowed down just a tiny fraction.
Not missing the opening, Lee Jae-i slid a little closer and nudged her elbow.
However, Lee Jae-i immediately regretted it.
‘Ugh.’
Because Yeon Eun-soo jabbed her in the flank even harder.
Before the pain could even fade, the door to the Audio-Visual Room slid open.
Tablets were placed on top of tables spaced out at regular intervals.
And on the front screen, which was split into eight sections, the trainees’ names were written.
“Only the tablet screens will be shared via remote control. We won’t interfere with your mouse operations. But right here.”
A Staff member pointed with the mouse to a small icon floating at the bottom of the screen.
“Please be careful not to touch this part.”
After finishing the brief guidance, the Staff member stepped out of the Audio-Visual Room.
For a moment, a hush hung over the Audio-Visual Room.
Bzzz.
It was just as the static flowing through the speakers scraped against the space.
– Trainees, please take your seats.
The moment for the broadcast recording had begun.
The movements of the trainees became more refined than before.
Once the sound of scraping chairs died down, the next instruction followed from the speakers.
– Touching the tablet will take you to the viewer bulletin board. Please select the story you wish to express through your song.
The arrow shape had merely shifted sideways, yet the viewer board popped up.
The screens of the other trainees all shifted to the board as well.
“Whew…”
Lee Jae-i let out a short breath and wrapped her palm around the mouse.
Before long, only the dry clicking of plastic echoed through the room.
Right then, a quiet throat-clearing tapped against the silent space.
“Ahem.”
At that sound, Lee Jae-i also lifted her head.
The split screens of two trainees showing the exact same story.
The gazes of the two trainees collided, silently demanding a concession.
‘Right. They can overlap.’
It was a story that Lee Jae-i had also briefly skimmed past.
It was certainly an appealing piece of writing.
Lee Jae-i fixed her eyes back onto the tablet.
‘…This isn’t it.’
The pages kept turning, but not a single piece of writing caught her eye.
Right then, Baek Song-ha raised her hand with a voice full of certainty.
“I’ll go with this one.”

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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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