Lee Jin, Jeong Eun-ju, Jo Young-ju, Cha Young-min.
Four authors tell fantastic stories inspired by music.
The four writers' love of music is extraordinary. One writer is an avid fan of Japanese rock bands and has been attending their concerts for 10 years without fail. Another writer was active in an online karaoke club in his 20s.
What kind of world will the music stories written by writers with impressive backgrounds, including a professional music columnist and a radio broadcast writer who once learned drums and created indie music, lead us to?

The couple became serious.
Offended by the way he treated me as if I were crazy, I kept my mouth shut and took out my phone.
The music app was still missing from the main screen.
A real day begins when I hear Eunsu’s voice… .
I felt uneasy.
I opened the YouTube app with my earphones in my ears, which were making no sound.
"uh?"
This time too, something that should have been there was not there.
I watch Empire and Eunsoo videos over a hundred times a day, so of course Empire videos should be on my main screen, but there must have been a problem with the algorithm, and it was full of random videos.
---p.20, from the text “Give Me Back the Sound”

It's the first morning of the week in a world without music.
I'm still having trouble adjusting to this world.
The world, devoid of music in schools, on the streets, on television, and on social media, was monotonous, boring, and frighteningly quiet.
Yesterday, I was taking a village bus to school, and one of the passengers blurted out, “Huh?”
Then all the passengers simultaneously raised their heads and stared at the person who had spoken.
Just like when a clueless kid makes a joke that ruins the mood.
The man kept bowing his head and apologizing to the passengers.
I wondered if it was really necessary to apologize like that when I hadn't cursed or harmed anyone.
But in this world, even the smallest noise was a nuisance and a crime that made others uncomfortable.
---p.29~30, from the text “Give Me Back the Sound”

I carefully unfolded the note.
A short message was written on a note made by cutting off the corner of a notebook to the size of a gum wrapper.
“The cedar bench.
“1:05.”
I got goosebumps.
Could it be that the headphones knew I went to the bench in front of the zelkova tree every lunch hour and put them on? Does "1:05" mean we'll meet at 1:05? Why? Could they also know I'm secretly singing to myself there? Could it be blackmail or stalking?
I was scared because I couldn't understand why Headphone, who I never exchanged a word with or even a glance with, was suddenly acting like this towards me.
At the same time, I was curious.
Because the note was the first thing the kids said to me after they all started avoiding me.
---p.29~30, from the text “Give Me Back the Sound”

After that day, the class president also started learning songs from me.
The class president was also absorbed in the song, as if he was wearing headphones.
Then, the class president's best friend also came to us, saying he wanted to learn how to sing.
After class, I taught the song in a deserted park behind the mountain.
And so, Empire's song began to spread secretly among the children in our class like a mutant virus.
What I learned while teaching singing was that there were more children than I thought who had heard their parents or grandparents sing songs secretly when they were young.
One child said his parents had been taken to an adult-only emotional correctional facility for making obscene noises.
In this world, songs were barely surviving.
“We are the Empire, the Empire of Eternal Hope.”
The children sang together in hushed voices.
I felt a thrill as I watched the children sing with such earnestness, as if they were singing a hymn.
I became the one and only Empire Evangelist in this world.
---p.49~50, from the text “Give Me Back the Sound”

“I want to work less in a small emergency room and have more time.
“Will you go with me, Mom?”
Arang summoned the mothers of her close friends one by one.
Ji-hyeon's mom wakes up at 5 a.m. to make fresh rice, Soo-jeong's mom parks her car in the front row of the school parking lot to make sure her daughter walks as little as possible after school, Chae-woo's mom moved to be closer to her teacher's house so that it would be easier to go to lessons, and even Ji-ah's mom started tutoring math part-time to pay for her musical instrument upgrade.
He shouted, “Even if it’s not like Mencius’ mother is the one who teaches us three thousand lessons, can’t we think of our only child first, and that child who will soon be preparing for the entrance exam for the art high school?”
To the indifferent Haeyong, Arang growled like a hungry beast, pouring out all the resentment she had accumulated over her fifteen years of life.
That morning, Arang cried and cursed as soon as she saw Haeyong return from his all-night shift.
“My mom is so fucking selfish.
You're the biggest idiot in the world.
I've always been obsessed with saving other people.
My child doesn't know me, he just says he'll grow up well on his own.
And why on earth did you give birth to a child without a father? What kind of nerve did you have to give birth to me?”
---p.71~72, from the text “Your Unnecessarily Grumpy Name”

'My cozy nap on New Year's Day.'
Arang took off her slippers and climbed up the piano bench, step by step, to the top of the grand piano that had been transformed into a bed.
Like a cat preparing to take a nap, I moved my body here and there to find the optimal pose.
Arang, who usually sleeps without a pillow, found the hard top of the grand piano rather comfortable.
I also didn't forget to keep my body's center of gravity as close to the wall as possible to avoid the risk of falling to the floor while sleeping.
It was warm thanks to the heater that was on all morning.
Arang fell into a deep sleep.
---p.73, from the text “Your Unnecessarily Grumpy Name”

Yoan, who was blowing on the hot broth and drinking it, said.
“Actually, I’ve been studying Chopin for 20 years.”
"haha.
20 years of Chopin? You must be a true Chopin master.
If I do that, I'll be looking at Chopin for 9 years.
He's my favorite composer.
But it's really delicious.
I haven't tried it in Seoul.
It looks like cold noodles, but it tastes completely new!”
“You think I’m joking right now.
“I’ve been practicing Chopin’s ‘Piano Concerto No. 1’ for 20 years.”
"okay.
I'll believe you.
What should I believe?
I can't believe it.
I believe you.
Yes, I believe it.”
“I remember too.
“But don’t believe it.”
Yoan said with a serious expression.
Holding back a faint smile, Arang gathered the last few strands of noodles with her chopsticks.
Yoan, with a cold expression, looked at Arang with his arms crossed.
At that moment, Arang felt Yoan pouring into her heart like sunlight.
'Why am I like this?
'Is this what it means to fall in love?'
---p.84~85, from the text “Your Unnecessarily Grumpy Name”

“There’s no way there could be something like a detective.”
Yooseong sighed and raised one arm to brush his hair.
Thanks to that, the sleeves of his school uniform were slightly raised and his well-toned muscles became lumpy.
The heart of the race weakened in that arm.
“Excuse me, I can tell you what’s going on.”
Gyeongju's ideal type has been Dwayne Johnson since she entered elementary school.
At the end of the race, Yoo Seong's face brightens.
"thank you.
Well, listen, I have the perfect girlfriend.
The name is Shin Yuri.
Fourteen years old, like you.
“She’s a perfect girl: pretty, kind, good at studying, and good at all things artistic.”
Naturally, Gyeongju's face became distorted.
But Gyeongju felt curious about the story of the consecutive shooting stars.
Yoo Seong said this.
“But that perfect glass was diagnosed with cancer.”
---p.111~112, from the text "Perfect Glass"

Life is like a railroad track.
It may be that at some point, that track took a wrong turn and led down a path of misfortune.
This could be a sign of trouble.
No, maybe it's because my life has been so full of luck up until now, that misfortunes that I never had before are coming in like waves.
“Yuri kept thinking about when misfortunes started to follow her.
Then I finally found the cause.
That was the strange melody incident.”
A melody that everyone else can hear but Yuri can't.
If I find out the identity of that melody, won't my misfortune end?
After that, Yuri tried to find out Melody's identity.
The problem was that no one remembered the melody.
---p.120~121, from the text "Perfect Glass"

For some people, sleep is simply a means of relaxation.
But for Gyeongju, sleep is a passage to another world.
Since childhood, Gyeongju lived a colorful life every time he fell asleep.
Sometimes the race was a child, a mother or father of a child, sometimes a grandmother, a corpse, and sometimes not even a human being.
The race was a single stone, a fish, a bird, and an alien from another planet far away.
Gyeongju couldn't control himself as he changed freely.
So I thought it was all just a spectacular dream.
But things changed when I was twelve and got my first period.
Now Gyeongju was able to control himself in his dreams.
Not only could you travel to any world you wanted, you could also bring abilities from other realities.
---p.123, from the text "Perfect Glass"

- Hello, I am drummer Park Chan.
I'm suddenly greeting you live.
You really want to see it?
There was no mental preparation.
The solution didn't even enter the realm of thought.
With just one greeting, the number of real-time users exceeded 500.
As I held the stick in both hands, there were 1,000 real-time users on the screen.
The pouring hearts and comments, and the drums and me.
Perhaps there was a chance to turn back even at that moment.
But before I could regain my senses, my body started moving first.
I stepped on the bass pedal with my right foot and placed my hands on the cymbals and snare drum.
It was a layout that was almost instinctive.
The rhythm unfolded.
The beginning was light.
It was only until the moment I first stroked the hi-hat cymbal, keeping the beat with the pedal, that I couldn't think of anything right away.
I just had to hold out for a minute, but my index finger was shaking.
The stick felt heavy, like I was holding a lump of iron.
The harder I tried to squeeze it, the more it slipped.
My shoulders were tense and my back was aching.
My gaze was lost as I followed the movements of my body, from the cymbals to the toms and bass.
I can't just collapse like this, so I quickly raised my head to the ceiling.
---p.162~163, from the text "My Soul Stick"

If you hit the drums but can't play, don't miss out.
The sticks will play as much as your soul.
There is no set price, just show your soul.
If you are interested, please click the apply button now.
The stick will come to you.

Unlike the beginning, the introduction became somewhat more serious as it went on.
Somehow, I felt like he was reading my mind.
Nothing in the world is ever good enough to be sloppy.
I've heard this from adults, but it's a truth of life that I've already realized while playing games.
In the end, I closed the smartphone screen.

---p.167, from the text "My Soul Stick"

Your soul stick usage agreement
1.
Your soul stick is a drum stick made just for one person.
2.
With your soul stick, you play a one-of-a-kind piece in the world.
3.
The rhythm and technique you gain from Your soul stick are all yours.
4.
The only fee for using Your soul stick is your soul.
5.
You are free to choose your soul stick, but it cannot be undone.
6.
All matters relating to your soul stick must be kept confidential.
7.
Your soul stick can change you.
8.
You cannot change your soul stick.
9.
Only your soul stick can solve your troubles.
10.
Your soul stick is waiting for you now.
Name (person)
The slightly yellowed and wrinkled document was filled with content written in very clear black letters.
“Music isn’t about money, it’s about soul.”
As soon as he said that, I signed the contract.

---p.176~177, from the text "My Soul Stick"