At that moment, Bonnie handed a guitar, propped up in the studio corner, to Zion.

[Here.]

[Why?]

[It’s set up just like last time. So play us something. One of those unfinished songs you gave out—how it turned out.]

[Hmm, with just one guitar… then I guess I’ll play the unfinished song I gave to Jankos Greenwood.]

Zion then began to play a piece—pop jazz tinged with Greenwood’s signature jazzy vibe.

Sound Fact isn’t a podcast strictly devoted to traditional American sounds, but it does attract fans of a wide range of genres.

Naturally, there were pop jazz aficionados among the listeners, and they instantly recognized the brilliance in Zion’s performance.

[That’s where I stopped playing.]

[Why? Couldn’t you have kept going?]

[I could’ve, technically. But I didn’t think I could make it more perfect than Greenwood did.]

Bonnie and Ronnie immediately saw through the lie.

Is Zion a greater musician than Jankos Greenwood? No, probably not.

Greatness isn’t something earned by simple measures.

But if you asked who has the stronger musical talent, it probably is Zion.

He debuted just a year ago and has already released a staggering range of songs across genres, none of which feel lacking.

This was unsettling for Bonnie and Ronnie.

They listen to hundreds, sometimes thousands, of songs a year for the sake of the show.

And among all that, only maybe twenty songs per year—thirty at most—feel truly “flawless.”

Their ears are discerning, yet Zion’s music consistently satisfies them.

Sure, Ronnie wasn’t fond of the bedroom pop track Resume, and Bonnie wasn’t into the progressive rock track Under the Streetlight.

But that was a matter of taste, not quality.

Meanwhile, Greenwood’s most recent album?

Out of ten tracks, two were absolutely brilliant, five were solid, and three were… not great.

If they were comparing career Top 10s, it might be hard to say who wins.

Greatness, especially in deeply rooted genres, can’t always be beaten by sheer talent.

But if it came down to a career Top 100, Zion would probably win.

In short, Zion’s average is just higher.

‘It’s hard to believe, but…’

So Zion had lied.

He didn’t fail to complete the masterpiece—he chose not to.

To create a reason for connection.

Bonnie and Ronnie hadn’t seen the HBO documentary yet, but the truth was, even the legends had seen through Zion’s “lie.”

No one had been fooled.

Still, they chose to collaborate with him—because the music he showed them was more than enough.

[And here’s how Jankos Greenwood completed that song.]

Zion’s guitar sparked to life again.

Jazz is an odd genre.

It doesn’t rely on speed or flashy technique.

But when top-tier jazz musicians play, it feels like they’re breathing fire.

[And finally, I arranged the song like this and included it on our album. It’s called Holiday. It’s on our first album.]

Zion began playing Holiday, a track from The First Day.

It wasn’t on today’s listening list.

[You speak English so well—why not release a global version?]

After the song ended, Ronnie asked, and Zion just shrugged.

[There’s been some talk with HR Corporation.]

[Really? I thought you were with Colors Media?]

[No, no. Colors Media is distributing the second album and unit albums internationally. HR Corporation handled the first album.]

[So when’s the global version coming out?]

[No idea. It all started rushing after the HBO documentary blew up. Might take some time.]

If all of this had been planned from the beginning, then even Donald Magus and Yngwie Gage’s spat could be seen as a promotional ploy.

Han Sion had mixed in a bit of harmless dishonesty—but no one cared.

What fascinated everyone more was the fact that two industry titans were promoting different albums by the same artist.

This meant that neither Zion nor SBI was just famous in the U.S.

They had already earned respect within the industry.

[Alright. I’ve been wondering—what exactly is a unit album? You once said combining the unit albums creates the second album?]

[Just listen and you’ll get it.]

And so, the listening session for unit albums Side A, B, and C began.

Bonnie and Ronnie offered more in-depth commentary than they had for the first album.

That made sense—the unit albums were more genre-focused.

Side A, by Masked Bandits, was R&B.

Side B, by Choi Jaesung, was electronic pop (or synth pop).

Side C, by On&On, was unplugged acoustic.

Since the genres were distinct, there was more to discuss, and a lot of opinions were exchanged.

Meanwhile, Sound Fact listeners were realizing just how different this special episode was from the usual format.

Regular episodes followed a structure.

Specials were more freeform, diving loosely into musical conversation.

It could have been boring.

But not now.

Zion’s songs spanned so many genres that it was pure fun to listen to.

The only “complaint” was the mixed use of English and other languages—but even that was minor.

The higher the musical quality, the lower the language barrier feels.

But this was only possible because it was Zion.

[The three songs from those unit albums? Combine them, and that’s the title track of our second full album.]

[What?]

He kept pulling out magic tricks.

So if it were another artist in this format, it might not be as exciting—no matter how famous they were.

[Let’s hear it.]


All the songs I’d prepared had now been played.

Bonnie and Ronnie definitely had sharp ears.

At several points, even I was startled by how accurately they picked up on things.

They could tell exactly which musicians I used as references and what kind of vibe I was going for.

But what was even more interesting was how they talked about the traits of Sedalbaekil’s members.

Bonnie, after closely listening to On Saemiro and Koo Taehwan’s voices, said he’d love to hear a two-pitch album—same chords, different melodies.

It was something I’d never thought of, but it definitely seemed viable.

As singers, Koo Taehwan and On Saemiro are complete opposites.

Koo rides on innate rhythm; On wins with a beautiful tone.

So I’d always deliberately spaced their parts apart when writing.

That extended through the second album too.

But hearing Bonnie and Ronnie’s thoughts made me realize—I may have been biased.

When we made our first album, keeping their parts apart was the right decision.

But they’ve improved since then.

Now, they’ve reached a level where they don’t get swallowed by their own quirks—they use them.

Once you’re top-tier, your uniqueness becomes a tool, not a limitation.

So pairing them might be interesting now.

On top of that, Ronnie said my voice and Choi Jaesung’s mesh really well.

It wasn’t based on any specific data—just a personal preference.

But longtime listeners of Sound Fact know Ronnie has a sixth sense when it comes to vocal blends.

He also has a knack for knowing which voice suits which genre.

If I remember correctly, he was the one who instantly pegged Iobin’s voice as a perfect match for electronic pop.

So I made a mental note.

I’ve never really paired with Choi Jaesung before.

As I was mulling that over, the show reached its end.

“It’s a special episode, so we didn’t prepare much, but before we wrap, mind sharing any goals or future plans?”

“Like activities in the U.S., stuff like that?”

I paused a moment before answering.

“My goal’s pretty simple. I want to sell 200 million albums with our group.”

“200 million? Why that number?”

“No special reason. Just feels like the most a singer can realistically sell these days.”

“That’s not quite right. There are quite a few artists who’ve reached or surpassed 200 million.”

Ah. Right.

Forgot to say—

“Excluding digital. I mean purely physical albums.”

“…That’s impossible.”

“I choose to believe it’s not.”

We kept chatting for a while longer, then the broadcast ended.

As the stream wrapped, Ronnie stretched and asked,

“Have you considered a solo career?”

“That’s sudden.”

“Well, you said your goal was 200 million as a group. Your team members are great, but you could be great on your own too.”

I don’t know.

I don’t think I can become a great musician.

They don’t give that label to flash-in-the-pan stars.

And me? I’m still unstable.

Sure, I’m doing well right now—but I never know when I might loop back.

So maybe I won’t be a great musician, but a tragic one?

That label does go to people who shine briefly and then vanish.

Thinking those thoughts, I was about to head back to the hotel—but Bonnie and Ronnie clearly didn’t want it to end.

They asked me to grab drinks with them.

They probably wanted to get a raw look at my talent.

Today’s show was all prepped material, so I hadn’t really ad-libbed much.

But I really had to go.

My flight to Korea was at dawn.

Then a thought hit me.

“Wait, you didn’t play that one song, did you? The one I made recently?”

“What? The one you said was your worst?”

“Yeah. I sent it to you to use as a joke.”

“We’re saving that for the YouTube cut. Also… it wasn’t funny.”

“Really? I meant it to be funny.”

For some reason, their expressions turned strange.

Then I told them I’d bring the team next time I came to the U.S.

After leaving the Sound Fact building, I tried calling On Saemiro—but he didn’t pick up.

Same with Choi Jaesung. And Koo Taehwan.

I thought maybe they were filming—but that didn’t seem likely.

If they were, our manager would’ve answered.

Was something going on?

I tilted my head, wondering.

Then—buzz—my phone rang.

I figured it was one of them calling back, but it wasn’t.

It was Eddy, still in Korea.

And for some strange reason, a wave of unease washed over me.

It was probably nothing.

I’ve lived far too long and gone through far too many similar moments.

I’ve experienced all kinds of déjà vu, and sometimes, that causes emotional swings.

This was probably one of those times.

That’s what I told myself as I picked up the call.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

-Sion. When are you coming back to Korea?

“I’ve got a flight early tomorrow. Why? Something wrong?”

The line went quiet.

The silence stretched on, and just as I was about to say something—Eddy’s voice came through.

-Your friends didn’t want me to tell you, but… I think you need to know.

“Know what?”

-Two of them… got hurt. It’s not life-threatening, but it’s not minor either.

“Two? Who?”

-Choi Jaesung… and On Saemiro.


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