Music Genius in Virtual Reality Episode 4
The pure sound of piano keys echoed through the plaza.
Zing.
An indescribable wave of emotion washed over him, gripping his entire body.
— Ahh, this sound.
Yes. This is the sound he’d been longing for.
The piano — the very sound he thought he’d never hear again — reached his ears, and it sent violent tremors through his body.
The rough texture of the keys under his fingers, the warm sunlight against his back, the fading noise of the crowd as the world narrowed into a quiet void…
Everything was just as it used to be.
— This was the feeling.
In that silent stillness, there were only two things that breathed: Yoo Hyun and the piano. Nothing else.
It had been so long since he felt this.
For the first time in years, he felt truly alive.
He realized now, his purpose wasn't just to open his eyes each morning and close them each night.
He existed for this — for music.
That decade of lifelessness, when it felt like he was practically dead…
It was starting to burn with life again.
He was someone who’d staked everything on music.
For him, music was life.
That was who Yoo Hyun was.
He turned his head, looking around.
A female player tilted her head at the sudden change in atmosphere, while the judges watched him with growing curiosity.
Keeping an audience waiting for too long wasn’t exactly polite, not for a musician.
— Alright... Let’s do this.
Yoo Hyun steadied his breath and gently pressed the keys.
♬♪
His fingers began to dance softly across the piano.
He started off gently, like a first meeting between strangers.
A shy but heartfelt greeting is exchanged between the artist and the instrument.
It was still too early to get carried away — time to feel things out.
Then came the Andante — a slow, unhurried pace, like a calm stroll.
The notes flowed like a warm spring breeze, soft and light, tickling the ears.
— God, this is fun.
The rhythm that made his whole body sway, the beautiful layering of chords, the emotional shifts brought by dynamics…
There wasn’t a single element in music he didn’t love.
But above all, what he cherished most —
Was being able to express his emotions exactly as he felt them.
When he was sad, the music turned sorrowful.
When he was joyful, it became something he could dance to.
He could translate his emotions into melody, pure and raw.
That was why he loved music so deeply.
— Now comes the dynamics.
Once he’d said his hello to the piano, it was time to get serious.
Even the best songs could become boring if played at the same volume, with the same breath.
Just like thrillers needed suspense, music needed tension—dynamics.
CRASH!
Yoo Hyun struck the keys with force. The music shifted, and the atmosphere began to build.
♬♪
The once sweet, tender melody started to grow faster, almost angry —
like it had lost patience.
If the beginning of the piece had reflected the radiant days of Yoo Hyun’s past,
Then this part mirrored the dark, hopeless days after the accident.
It was like walking alone in a tunnel with no end in sight.
His fingers crossed violently over the keys,
like soldiers charging each other in a brutal war.
Yoo Hyun surrendered to the sound piercing his ears,
pounding the keys relentlessly.
CRASH—CRASH!
The music was intense, precarious, moody — yet mysteriously beautiful.
With every change in expression, Yoo Hyun’s face shifted with it.
As the tempo quickened, so did the passion in his movements.
He was no longer just playing the instrument — he was the instrument.
His hands were moving ahead of his thoughts,
as if he were just a puppet, letting the music move him.
— Yes, this is it. This is what I’ve been missing!
That overwhelming rush — the one you only felt when fully immersed in something.
He’d forgotten this feeling.
The memory of it made him smile unconsciously.
Yoo Hyun let himself go — completely and purely — into the music.
The joy of simply pressing keys, hearing sounds, and expressing emotion as-is.
A joy so raw and simple, it was like the happiness of a child discovering music for the first time.
— This is my music.
Ding.
The notes started to slow, and Yoo Hyun’s fingers gently came to a stop.
The long performance was finally drawing to a close.
One final note remained. Just one.
And yet, his fingers hesitated.
— I don’t want to end it.
He was scared that this happiness would vanish the moment he finished.
But he had to.
No matter how beautiful the song, if it wasn’t completed, it was still unfinished.
“Phew…”
He took a breath and pressed the last note.
It was over.
The space that had been shared by only him and the piano began to fade.
Reality slowly crept back in,
And the emotions that had been overflowing began to settle.
But the performance still lingered in his mind.
“…….”
Silence.
The hall was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
If people were going to clap, they should’ve done it already.
If they were going to boo, they should’ve done that too.
Nervously, he opened his eyes.
What greeted him was completely unexpected.
“...Whoa, did you see that guy playing just now?”
“Holy crap.”
Dozens of people were staring right at him.
Their faces were full of shock.
“...Whoa, did you see that guy playing just now?”
“Holy crap.”
Everyone was staring at him.
That’s when Judge Charles spoke, his voice trembling with emotion.
“N-No way… There was someone this talented among the outsiders?”
To him, what Yoo Hyun had just done wasn’t just good.
It was phenomenal.
Even when compared to Paolo, the most esteemed musician of the cathedral —
Yoo Hyun was easily on par.
Thinking back, even the way he sat at the piano had been different.
Straight posture, the angle of his chin, the way his fingers hovered over the keys...
These were the signs of someone who’d dedicated their life to music.
Suddenly, Charles froze.
— Shit. I seriously messed up.
Not only had he failed to recognize this kind of genius,
He’d even threatened to kick him out if he couldn’t play.
They should’ve been begging him to participate — pleading for his help.
And yet, he’d left the worst possible first impression.
— If I lose him now, I’m screwed.
Charles finally came to his senses, cleared his throat,
and addressed Yoo Hyun in the most respectful tone possible.
His face looked almost desperate.
“W-Would you… Would you please take part in the ritual ceremony?
We really need your help!”
Gasps filled the room.
Everyone’s jaws practically hit the floor.
— What the hell? Why’s he acting so different all of a sudden?
Just moments ago, he’d brushed off the female player like it was no big deal.
Now he was practically begging Yoo Hyun, looking like he was about to cry if he said no.
Considering how cold and blunt NPCs usually were,
no one could make sense of what they were seeing.
— What just happened?
— I’ve never seen an NPC act like that before…
“Please, would you consider participating in the ritual?”
It was such a rare, dramatic moment that every single player turned their eyes to Yoohyun.
And in the middle of all that attention, Yoohyun's answer was—
“…Sorry. I don’t think I can join the ritual.”
A straight-up refusal.
‘?!’
‘What the hell? Why?!’
Every player watching was visibly stunned.
‘He’s turning down 50 gold? That’s like 500 bucks in real money!’
‘Doesn’t he know how amazing the Honor Emblem is? He’s gonna seriously regret it later without that thing!’
Even Charles, the NPC, was clearly shocked.
“Is it because the reward isn’t enough? Or is there another reason?”
“Ah, well…”
“If there’s anything you need, please say it! We’ll do whatever we can to accommodate you.”
Yoohyun scratched his head, looking a little awkward.
“It’s just… my time’s up. I have to go home.”
“Y-You mean home…?”
The reason he couldn’t join the ceremony was painfully simple.
Logging out in 1 minute. Please move to a safe location.
His time at the capsule café was up.
In other words, he had no choice but to log out.
“Yeah… I’ve gotta log out now.”
“Ah… so this is that thing outsiders always talk about—and it had to happen now of all times!”
Of course, he’d love to keep playing. He really wanted to join in. But he had stuff to do at home.
He hadn’t even finished his music assignment before logging in. That was his livelihood—he couldn’t afford to blow that off.
“If I get the chance, I’ll definitely participate next time. But for now… I really have to go.”
Charles grabbed Yoohyun’s hand and cried out,
“N-Next time? The ritual is in exactly one week!”
Logging out in 10 seconds. Please move to a safe location.
“Well, today was actually my first time playing… If I ever log back in, maybe then I’ll…”
But Yoohyun didn’t even get to finish his sentence. He slowly faded away mid-sentence.
“At the very least, you’d need to come by the day after tomorrow for practice and prep! Just until then would be enough!”
Charles’ desperate voice echoed across the plaza.
“No, please! Don’t go! I’ll wait here until you come back! Please…!”
But Yoohyun was long gone.
“Wow… that was wild. Did you guys just see that?”
A man stood staring at the plaza with a fascinated look. His eyes were fixed on the event hall where Yoohyun had just performed and disappeared.
His name was Han Donghoon, also known as “Pengkoon”—a mid-tier streamer with a growing fanbase, mainly known for covering Wonderland content.
“I’m not seeing things, right? He just straight-up logged out without even taking the reward?”
– I saw it too lol that was insane
– lmaoo that was legendary
– I’ve never seen an NPC look that speechless before
Pengkoon had seen the whole thing.
Yoohyun stormed the stage out of nowhere, blowing everyone’s minds with his performance, then just logging out without even claiming his reward.
It was more dramatic than anything he’d seen in recent shows or games. Easily the most entertaining moment in recent memory.
A fun little idea suddenly crossed Pengkoon’s mind.
“…Let’s put my current content on pause. I kinda wanna go track that player down.”
– ??
– You serious? lol
– Here we go again
[ ‘C2C’ has donated 10,000 won. ]
– Did this guy just say he’s gonna leech off a total stranger live on stream? lmaoo
[ ‘Hamdin’ has donated 10,000 won. ]
– I know you’re nuts for content, but c’mon, clout-chasing a random newbie?
Pengkoon quickly waved his hands, laughing.
“Whoa, whoa, no. I’m not some two-bit leech. I’ll ask for an interview, obviously. I’m not some no-name streamer trying to mooch off him.”
He had over 400,000 subscribers. He had more to lose than gain from pulling shady stunts.
Naturally, he’d reach out professionally and compensate the player fairly.
– But like… how are you even gonna find that guy?
– Lol, what, did you add him as a friend or something?
“…Huh. Good question. How am I gonna find him?”
Pengkoon’s eyes narrowed, locked on the spot where Yoohyun had stood just moments ago. A mischievous glint flashed in his gaze.