Chapter 1 …

“If you mix emotions when your vocal cord grounding is weak, it becomes something that only looks like singing but has no substance.”

Oh Sun said calmly.

It was an accurate critique, but contestant Ji-yul’s face turned pale.

Tears welled in her eyes, and a heavy silence filled the studio.

The other contestants avoided eye contact, and the production staff held their breath.

The program vocal trainer Oh Sun was appearing on was <Voice League: Final Sound>.

Since Season 1, the show had sparked a nationwide audition craze with its explosive popularity. It broke every previous rating record for audition entertainment programs.

Behind that success, vocal trainer Oh Sun played a big role.

His cold remarks that judged only skill, the sincerity hidden in his harsh words, and his precise feedback—so different from his frightening appearance—had placed him at the center of public attention.

Ji-yul, the subject of today’s scene, was one such case.

Her basic tone was refreshing, and she expressed emotional lines delicately. However, because her vocal cord grounding was weak, her high notes often floated, and her emotions frequently clashed with her pitch.

On top of that, due to her lack of stage experience, she tended to push too hard with emotion.

By clearly pointing this out, the program gained an air of professionalism.

More than anything, Oh Sun’s appearance—like something that had just walked out of a ghost story—was perfect for editing, and it generated buzz as well.

Producer Ha Ji-hoon gestured to the cameraman.

The cameraman zoomed in and slowly approached Ji-yul.

Unaware—or perhaps uncaring—Oh Sun continued his explanation.

“Resonate through the nose, gather the sound until the space between your eyebrows tingles, and throw the sound like you’re striking the roof of your mouth. Like this—‘haru~’ then ‘ga.’ Try it like this. ‘Haruga~.’”

His tremendous volume filled the practice room.

The contestants and staff alike felt a shiver.

Seriously—if only his face matched his voice, he would have become a top-star singer.

“Alright, shall we try?”

Oh Sun placed his hand on the keyboard and began the accompaniment.

Ji-yul steadied her breathing and followed his instructions.

But because she was so nervous, her pitch slipped and a metallic sound escaped.

Startled, Ji-yul bit her lip.

While playing the piano, Oh Sun glanced up at her.

She curled her shoulders inward, avoided his gaze, and lowered her head.

This won’t work.

Thinking her posture needed correction first, Oh Sun pushed his chair back.

The scraping sound across the floor made Ji-yul squeeze her eyes shut and bite her lip tightly.

Camera 1 quickly captured the moment.

Camera 2 captured Oh Sun standing up.

The screen filled as though a giant statue were rising.

Filmed from a low angle, Oh Sun looked terrifying—like Frankenstein’s monster.

And Ji-yul, looking up at him, appeared as pitiful as an actress in King Kong.

Looking down at Ji-yul’s frightened, rabbit-like eyes, Oh Sun suppressed the sigh rising in his throat.

If your body stiffens, no sound comes out.

For singers, the body is an instrument.

If she stayed this tense, he couldn’t correct anything properly.

Her confidence would continue to drop, and fear would take root.

Therefore—

“Let’s stop here. You should stretch and rest for a bit. Practice what I told you earlier.”

“I’m okay. I can do it.”

“You can, yes. But right now, you won’t be able to produce your best sound.”

As Oh Sun spoke gently, Ji-yul suddenly felt overwhelmed and lowered her head.

She looked as if she had been deeply hurt, which worried him.

“Are you alright?”

Oh Sun bent slightly to check her expression.

But Ji-yul suddenly lifted her head.

“Yes! Of course! Thank you!”

She bowed at a full ninety degrees with bright energy.

The cameraman, faithful to his duty, captured the tears still glistening in her eyes until the end.

Suspicious… I wonder how they’ll edit this one.

Oh Sun felt uneasy.

But right now, the kids came first.

“Everyone worked hard today. Let’s take a break, director.”

“Okay! Okay!”

Producer Ha Ji-hoon was smiling as he looked at Oh Sun.

He liked the composition from earlier—the monster and the pitiful victim.

“This is huge. Absolute gold.”

Ha PD quickly walked beside Oh Sun as he left the practice room.

“What is?”

“That scene just now.”

“……”

“But every story has a beginning, development, and twist, right? Today she teared up. Next time it’d be perfect if she runs out of the studio crying. What do you think?”

As the PD casually tapped Oh Sun’s shoulder and described the next scene he wanted to film, Oh Sun suddenly snapped.

“You don’t play games with these kids’ feelings.”

For a moment, the contestants and staff who were wrapping up filming looked at Oh Sun in surprise.

Sigh. What’s the point of saying anything.

“I will simply do my best.”

After saying that to Ha PD, Oh Sun walked out of the studio.

He hadn’t been a harsh critic from the start.

He loved singing more than anyone.

He sincerely wanted the contestants to grow, which was why he joined the program.

But once the broadcast aired—

Oh Sun became the “Devil Instructor.”

The production team actively used that image.

His advice was edited into something cold and ruthless.

The contestants’ tears became tools for stimulation rather than music.

He realized he was being used and tried to quit.

But even that was difficult.

The PD and the station director insisted they couldn’t remove a character responsible for ratings. They told him to wait just a little longer and that different edits were being prepared.

As a result, his schedule continued against his will.

He should have realized the moment Ha PD started waving his phone around excitedly.

“Teacher Oh, SNS is going crazy! ‘Bandit Boss,’ ‘Orc Instructor,’ ‘Grim Reaper of Vocals!’ Wow, how do you have so many nicknames?”

“That intimidation! That charisma! The viewers love it. Your eyes and voice are insane. The subtitle ‘Devil Instructor’ fits perfectly, right? Don’t you like it?”

“Your clips are all over SNS too! Hahaha. Your vocal academy is going to rake in money now, Mr. Oh Sun.”

Entering the waiting room, Oh Sun looked at himself in the mirror.

A massive height of 2 meters 10 centimeters, broad shoulders, thick eyebrows, and a strong nose bridge.

Thick skin and a wide, flat face.

No wonder he was called Bandit Boss or Orc Instructor.

Ding-dong, ding-dong.

His phone notifications rang nonstop.

When he opened SNS, familiar mockery poured out.

• “The Devil Instructor appears lol. If Oh Sun catches you, your vocal cords are shredded.”

• “Is this vocal training or mental destruction? #OrcInstructor #VocalHellClass”

• “Why does he make contestants cry every time? I’d be scared too with that face.”

• “Written as vocal trainer, read as vocal butcher.”

• “But after training—heavenly voice~ not bad.”

• “Honestly if it were me, I’d take the training and become the best.”

Oh Sun quietly turned off the screen.

He should have been used to it by now.

But living in a world where people were consumed by praise and hate alike was not pleasant.

* * *

“Teacher Oh Sun!”

As he packed his things, the waiting room door opened and Ji-yul entered.

Her eyes were red, but her expression looked brighter.

“I practiced what you told me earlier…”

Ji-yul smiled shyly.

“When I focused on vocal cord grounding, it really changed.”

“Really? I was worried I might have spoken too harshly.”

Oh Sun started to stand from his chair but stopped.

He was worried his massive frame might intimidate her further.

“No! It really helped me. And… earlier when I cried, it was because I was embarrassed about my lack of skill, not because of you.”

Those words loosened the stiffness in Oh Sun’s heart.

“But… am I really doing well? Can my voice really improve?”

Oh Sun didn’t miss the anxiety and hope hidden in her question.

She reminded him of himself from years ago.

“Of course. Your tone itself is excellent. You just need to adjust the direction a little.”

Ji-yul’s face brightened.

“Really? Hearing that from someone as skilled as you makes me so happy!”

Oh Sun chuckled.

“Skilled, huh? I’m still learning too. Go get some rest now. There’s another shoot later.”

“Yes! Thank you!”

Ji-yul left the practice room with a light, fluttering step.

Her back was filled with pure longing and passion for singing.

It felt strangely familiar.

Because once, he had been the same.

Perfect absolute pitch.

A vocal range exceeding four octaves.

Emotion that no one could imitate.

Oh Sun was someone born for music.

He was recognized as having extraordinary talent.

But there was only one reason he never achieved his dream.

His appearance and physique.

At first, he didn’t realize how much it would hold him back.

When he sent out demo files, several agencies immediately replied that they wanted him to debut.

But the moment they met him in person, everything changed.

A 210-cm giant, a rough face, broad shoulders.

The producers at the meeting tables looked troubled.

One even gave a “positive” suggestion.

“How about a comedy concept? Like ‘Monster Vocal’ or ‘Giant Singer.’ Use your appearance and physique in reverse and appear on variety shows. By the way… do you know how to fight?”

It was absurd.

Eventually, Oh Sun sang on WebTube without showing his face.

Recognized purely by his voice, he gained the nickname “Mr. Voice.”

After surpassing 100,000 subscribers, a record label offered him a contract.

But of course—

“Should you wear a mask? Like a ‘reverse voice’ concept? Or maybe we make an avatar. Actually, let’s add some comedy elements. Something cheerful?”

In the end, Oh Sun gave up Mr. Voice.

He accepted the reality that he could never be taken seriously as a singer.

Becoming a vocal trainer happened by accident.

After quitting WebTube and struggling financially, he helped teach a friend’s vocal lessons in a small practice room.

Within six months, three trainees he coached passed auditions at the largest entertainment agency in the country.

Word spread as the skills of trainees under his guidance improved dramatically.

After one year, one of his students won an audition program called <Birth of a Star>.

The debut album topped the music charts.

“If it weren’t for Teacher Oh Sun, I’d still be cracking my voice at karaoke.”

That singer’s acceptance speech elevated Oh Sun’s reputation even further.

Soon, major agencies began sending him offers.

From trainee training to debut-group management, singers who passed through his hands became known for their stable skills.

His teaching method was unique.

Because of his perfect pitch and wide range, he could immediately identify the limits and strengths of a singer’s voice just by hearing it.

Using that, he found the maximum volume, tone, and even charm that the “instrument” called the body could produce—and drew out the best possible performance.

In the industry, the phrase “Oh Sun’s student” became a brand.

Oh Sun established himself as the nation’s top vocal trainer.

And eventually the producers of <Voice League> chose him.

He was satisfied in his own way.

At least he could remain in the world he loved.

* * *

As Oh Sun was leaving the studio, his phone rang.

It was Producer Ha Ji-hoon.

“Yes, director.”

“Tomorrow’s shoot—let’s completely destroy contestant Han Ji-yul’s mentality! Can you bombard her with vicious criticism, like a vocal slaughterhouse atmosphere? As I said earlier, it’d be perfect if she cries and runs out of the studio.”

Oh Sun’s voice rose at the absurd request.

“What are you talking about? That’s abuse. If you teach like that, she’ll lose confidence in her voice.”

“Oh dear, Teacher Oh. Broadcasting is show business. The Devil Instructor is now the signature character of our program. Viewers want a monster. If you want higher ratings, just do as we say.”

He couldn’t listen any longer.

Oh Sun hung up.

They had no interest in the contestants’ futures—or his sincerity.

A bitter laugh escaped him.

If he couldn’t stand on stage, he had wanted to at least be a craftsman behind it.

He thought that was the only path allowed to him.

But he had been foolish.

He should have accepted it earlier.

His monstrous appearance was a prison he could never escape.

To stay in this industry, he had to live being consumed as a monster.

Then he would leave.

“What’s the point of dreams anyway…”

Ha PD called again.

But Oh Sun turned off his phone.

He wanted to escape this cruel world where his talent and passion were reduced to his appearance.

As he stepped out of the broadcasting station, a torrential rain was pouring from the sky.

In the distance, the green light of a crosswalk blurred through the rain.

Oh Sun ran.

He just wanted to get away somehow.

As he hurried across the crosswalk, a cargo truck blasted its horn.

“Huh…?”

The moment he turned his head toward the sound—

BANG!

His body was thrown into the air.