"Editor, what are your expectations for this contest?"
Adam Whishaw, the chief editor of Gramophone, is a world-renowned critic. There is no melody in the world that he has not heard. It is no exaggeration to say that he knows the history of all violinists. Adam licked his dry lips. He never thought he would be asked to interview him.
"War of the Stars, that would be it."
From China's Zhang Yan, Northern Europe's Eric, to Britain's William, all the famous newcomers headed to Brussels. Among them was a violinist named 'Hyeon' who had come all the way to Korea but was not able to meet him in the end. For example, this Brussels competition will be the hottest and most brilliant in the history of the competition. Moreover.
"Because that's where the demons of melody reside."
It seems that he had no idea that the word devil would come out of the devil's mouth. The interviewer could be heard swallowing.
"Would you believe that I spent over a dozen years perfecting one song?"
What does this mean?
"They are the ones who love and hate the violin more than anyone else, and they study and record melodies. When an old person dies, it's like a library burning down. So, just how many melodies do you think are recorded in their heads?"
Pierre Ganell of France, Alexei of Russia, Deng Lun of China, and many other great masters visited Brussels. They lived their whole lives looking only at music. They did not spare harsh criticism of melodies. Is it a coincidence that these picky and demanding people gathered in one place?
"Last question. So who will get the prize?"
Adam shook his head at the interviewer's question. That's not the question. Critics aren't the ones to give scores. Just as there is no right or wrong in life, there can be no ranking of melodies. Sharon was right. This new recruit was definitely a turnaround.
*
"You look a lot younger than I thought."
It was the words of a master. However, the other masters who were watching the boy through the crack in the door all nodded silently. Although he was 14 in Korean age, he actually looked three or four years younger than that.
"So what are you talking about with Mr. Alexei right now?"
Chinese master Deng Lun pricked up his ears and squinted his eyes. He could hear the crude Russian voice continuously, and it seemed like they were talking about something, but he couldn't understand the content at all. It seemed like the other masters were curious as well.
"Hmm, I think that guy is angry?"
French master Pierre Ganell looked at Alexei's raised eyebrows with a questioning look.
"No, I'm not trying to fight with you. I guess it's because Mr. Alexei has such a cold expression."
But everyone secretly thought that if it was Alexei, it might be possible. He hadn't come out to welcome him in the first place, but to see how arrogant he was. That was when.
"Just a minute, let me see what's going on."
Wasn't the master standing behind him pushing forward? Those who were hiding in case the boy caught them frowned.
"uh?"
It was the moment when Deungryun's body tilted like a pillar.
*
Kirik―!
It was the sound of a door opening. The huge door seemed to have no idea it was going to open, as it was accompanied by a strange scream. It seemed like it couldn't support the weight. But.
'Who are those people?'
The gentlemen who had been peeking at me through the crack in the door just a moment ago. They almost fell over, but managed to regain their composure. Their faces were clearly filled with embarrassment as they avoided eye contact. Russian, who had been furrowing his brow for a moment, raised his hand and wiped his face with a deep sigh.
'Are you friends?'
I thought he was a racist. But his friends all have unique skin colors. They all seem to be of different ages. Well, in foreign countries, if you get along, even a ten-year age gap is considered a friend. But strangely, I see some familiar faces. Is it because they are foreigners?
"Uh, uh."
It was when Eva stuttered, unable to hide her embarrassment.
"You cheeky brat, everyone came here just to see you."
So what do you want me to do?
"I don't know those people, why are you meddling, old man."
The Russian's eyebrows furrowed violently. He glared at me with his already sharp eyes, and his appearance looked like that of an angry bald eagle. Is he asking me to play the violin again? I looked down at the case in my hand. Of course, it wasn't an illusion.
As it was a sensitive instrument, it took some time to move it.
It wouldn't have been strange if they had placed bodyguards around to talk nonsense. It wasn't something that cost a few pennies. They would probably arrive around the time of the competition.
By the way.
'What the hell are those people?'
Are they really friends of racists? The gazes they give me as if they are indulging in them are all unusual. Their gazes are deep, with a different meaning from the sharp gaze of a Russian. Of course, I used to deal with vicious criminals in the prosecution, so how could I be so discouraged? I did not avoid their gazes, but rather responded to them one by one.
"Tongue, string."
For a moment, Eva stuttered in embarrassment. It seems she didn't know that I would have a staring contest with them. She was lucky, the old jaguar, the owl, and the penguin count all had unique personalities.
"Violinist Hyun, don't you know who we are?"
Then an owl walked out. Judging by the accent and appearance, it was most likely Chinese. By the way, don't you know them? What do you mean, I don't have to know all the Queen Elizabeth staff. But I still have to check.
"Are you friends with this old man?"
He glanced at the Russian and asked politely in English. The owl seemed to think for a moment, then looked at the Russian's expression and shook its head. As expected, a racist can't have an Asian as a friend.
At that moment.
"How did you play Beethoven's Violin Sonata Spring?"
An old jaguar stepped forward and looked at me. I could tell his age from his graying hair and the spots on his face.
"I saw the tape."
They said only the judges could see it, but it seems they were able to sneak a peek. It was a moment that cracked the majesty of Queen Elizabeth that I had expected. Well, it was an era when there were almost no CCTVs, so I guess I should understand. But where on earth would the Queen Elizabeth be hosted that hired such an old staff member?
"Just play however your heart desires, without being bound by anything."
Simple and clear answer.
But everyone seemed troubled.
The old jaguar looked at me as if he needed further explanation.
"Someone once said that when a violinist comes to Beaux-Arts, he or she must take up the bow. That is a fixed idea."
I glanced at the Russian and started walking. Eva followed me, startled.
one side.
Alexei bit his lip without realizing it.
"You cheeky little brat!"
But the kid had already disappeared from sight.
* * *
"There's a violinist who received a letter of recommendation from Spencer?"
William of England sneered. That was the original competition. A place where false rumors and fabrications ran rampant. But everything would be proven by ability. Wasn't Spencer the conductor who even he, who was called the best new talent in England, rejected? He was the pride of the London Symphony and a maestro representing England. So he wrote a letter of recommendation to someone other than himself? Where did such nonsense come from?
It was a gathering of 60 preliminary contestants. Since they were selected from countless violinists from around the world, there was no need to doubt their skills. There were also some rookies who stood out here and there. There was the contestant who had studied under the principal violinist of the Berlin Philharmonic, as well as Zhang Yan from China and Eric from Northern Europe.
'what?'
William doubted his eyes at first. The child was so young. She had a body type that would fit in a junior competition, not a Queen Elizabeth. He could feel that not only himself, but everyone in the hall was occasionally looking at the child.
"William, the name of the person who received the letter of recommendation is Kang Hyun."
At that moment, the manager came over and whispered to him. Kang Hyun? Judging by the name, it was clear that he was Asian. William's eyes scanned the Asian violinists as if they were picking them out, and then he reached the young child sitting alone. But he soon turned his head away. It seemed like he had the wrong address.
*
'This is it, one.'
It's not like a zoo, but everyone who enters the waiting room looks at me and doubts their own eyes. It would be better than seeing a monkey in a cage. Now, there are even people who openly stare at me. They probably think they entered the wrong place or that they spent money to get selected.
'Primarily 24 people.'
Compared to the famous masters, they are still just rookies, but their integrity and pride in the violin are sky-high. Since they are musicians, they would naturally have no doubt that they would be on the final list. But why is that?
I couldn't help but chuckle. Wasn't it an experience I had at the Judicial Research and Training Institute in my past life? It was as if the instincts from back then were stirring deep inside me and sprouting again. But my whole body was tense. These are the best newcomers in name and reality.
As time passed, the room became more and more busy.
Each contestant took out his violin and was busy tuning it. Of course, the detailed tuning had already been completed, but it was just about getting into position. I heard that the judges this time were even more unusual. Not only did they criticize harshly, but there were also many cases where they stopped playing after hearing only one syllable. You might not think they would do that in a competition, but they really do have a way of catching people. Anyway.
'Why is that guy looking at me like that?'
It was an unpleasant look. Wasn't it when one of the British contestants turned his head away and sneered at me?
At that moment.
"We will begin the first round of judging. The order will be chosen randomly, and you will be asked to play each assigned song."
As the concours staff entered the waiting room, tension settled in the room. Some people straightened their clothes, others wiped their palms with handkerchiefs. Even those who smiled to avoid showing their nervousness were using various methods to relieve their tension.
"Then, thirty-seven times."
The staff called out the number. Since it was the first turn, it was natural that everyone's eyes were focused on it. Most people looked relieved that it wasn't them. Since there are many conservative judges in the music industry, there was a perception that the first stage of the competition was the most difficult. After calling out the number, the staff read out the name with a clumsy pronunciation.
"Kang Hyun."
The guy from earlier glared at me and turned around, and the rest of the group did the same. At that moment, when I confidently walked out, everyone couldn't hide their bewilderment. I snickered and passed by the crowd. Look carefully, it's just beginning.