GCSA CH 20

Posted by bed0zx_, Released on July 5, 2026

CHAPTER 20

At my bold proposal, Min Chan-hyuk let out a disbelieving laugh.

But when I didn’t laugh along, he leaned forward and stared straight at me.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“You need to watch what you say. If you want to become a professional, you can’t throw words like that around lightly.”

His tone sounded like he was lecturing me. But I meant every word.

He looked at me as if I were absurd, then crossed his arms.

“If I say you fail without even looking at your skills, then I get the source for free.”

“Then I must have misjudged you. That would be my mistake. But you’re not the type to throw away the chance to build a good relationship with a talented composer over something that ridiculous, are you?”

I answered immediately.

Min Chan-hyuk’s eyes widened, clearly wondering where someone this bold had come from.

He groaned softly and thought for a moment before suggesting,

“Forget free. Let’s go with a buyout contract instead. And no changing your story later.”

As if I would.

“I know you can write well. I can tell just from . I can’t make something like that. But this industry isn’t just about writing a good song.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Beat making, arranging, mixing. You have to oversee everything to earn the title of ‘producer.’”

Most producers know how to compose, but that doesn’t mean they handle every single composition themselves.

A producer is like a film director.

The director oversees everything, but there are cinematographers and screenwriters working under them. Likewise, producers often work alongside composers and lyricists.

“Show me what kind of song you can create using it as a source. Not just a ‘source’—make something that could actually be released to the market.”

I understood the intention behind the test.

The ability to read current trends. The sense to blend them into a song. And the skill to use the “source” so it doesn’t get buried—or stand out too much.

A test that could reveal all of that at once.

‘A test no ordinary rookie composer could ever pass.’

Sure enough, his expression said, “Well? Still want to try?”

“Alright.”

“W-What? You’re really going to do it?”

“Yes.”

At that moment, a quest window appeared.

[ SYSTEM – SUB QUEST ]

Prove your skill!

Description: Min Chan-hyuk doubts your ability. Use to complete a new song.

Completion Condition: Receive a “Pass” judgment from Producer Min Chan-hyuk

Reward: “Skill ”Proven”—Composer debut confirmed

Penalty: “Insufficient ”Skill”—Forced buyout contract for the song

“Ahem! Don’t underestimate this. I’ll give you a week. Finish it within—”

“No.”

I looked at him directly.

“I’ll play it for you right now.”

Min Chan-hyuk crossed his arms and watched Yoon Seol handle the equipment.

He didn’t even know how things had turned out like this.

‘I was just going to persuade her into a buyout contract and send her off….’

Instead, she offered the song for free and acted boldly, as if her little talent gave her the right to look down on the industry.

And somehow, he had fallen right into it.

It left a bad taste in his mouth, like he was being led around by a kid this young.

‘Huh. She handles the gear pretty skillfully. Did she train under some famous composer?’

Her movements had no hesitation, as if she’d been using this equipment for years. It didn’t look like someone copying tutorials online.

Then—

Whoosh. Click!

Tap!

Her fingers moved quickly between keyboard and mouse. Drag, cut, loop, and adjust EQ.

Everything was smooth, without a single pause.

‘W-What is this?’

Min Chan-hyuk’s mouth slowly fell open.

‘How is this possible?’

A normal rookie would take forever just to import a source and place it on a track. But Yoon Seol was different.

‘It’s like… she already finished composing it in her head and is just transferring it over.’

Even he knew that sounded impossible.

There were countless virtual instruments involved in the composition. Even he adjusted things as he listened, because it was impossible to memorize every subtle difference.

But Yoon Seol selected exactly what she needed from the wide range of instruments.

She looped the track, layered a kick and snare, and suddenly a convincing groove emerged.

melted naturally into it.

Before he knew it, Min Chan-hyuk had pulled his chair closer, watching intently.

This wasn’t a test anymore.

It was more like watching a magic show.

Click.

When Yoon Seol finally put down the mouse, he snapped back to reality.

“Would you like to hear it now?”

“A-Already finished?”

“…? Yes.”

She answered as if it were obvious.

Of course she was asking because she had finished. He knew that.

‘But this makes no sense!’

He wanted to shout that. But his fragile pride barely kept his mouth shut.

Instead, he cleared his throat and tried to sound composed.

“Alright. Let’s hear it. Just because you made it quickly doesn’t mean that’s everything. I won’t go easy on you just because it was done on the spot.”

“Listen.”

The speakers began to play.

♪♪♩♬

As the melody unfolded, Min Chan-hyuk held his breath.

A clean, structured beat layered over rough, unstable textures.

The more he closed his eyes and followed the flow, the more surprised he became.

‘It’s close to the direction I imagined.’

The detailed progression was slightly different, but the overall feeling was exactly what he had envisioned.

Turning dissonance into something groovy, pulling it into a midpoint between EDM and pop.

‘The concept? Great. The quality? Insane.’

And the chorus—even to his ears—was catchy and easy for the public to sing along to.

‘She even considered commercial appeal?’

He clasped his hands under his chin.

‘…There’s no way she’s a rookie.’

He stared at Yoon Seol, who was calmly looking back at him.

‘Where did this monster come from?’

***

When the song ended, silence filled the studio.

Min Chan-hyuk crossed his arms and stared at me for a long time.

I wished he’d say something.

Good or bad—any evaluation would be fine.

He had erased his smile, looking serious. His cold expression made the tension even heavier.

‘Is there something he doesn’t like?’

To me, the song sounded fine.

Since he showed no sign of speaking, I finally asked,

“Is there a problem?”

“…There is.”

He muttered lowly.

“A serious one.”

My heart dropped.

Then he suddenly lifted his head and said in a grave tone,

“The serious problem is that I only just discovered a composer like you.”

“…What?”

“You said you’re twenty-one, right? What were you doing all this time with this level of skill? I can guess. You probably just studied in high school. Your parents probably opposed you doing music. Right? That’s the reality of education in this country. Someone who should’ve debuted long ago and been soaring!”

For a moment, I wondered if he was joking.

He wasn’t.

He slammed his palm on the desk.

“You have to become a composer!”

“…Pfft.”

I burst out laughing.

What kind of conclusion was that?

I laughed so hard tears gathered in my eyes. It had been so long since I’d laughed like this.

As I wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and calmed down, I saw his stunned expression.

“You… your whole impression changes when you smile.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Forget it.”