The Road to Glory Chapter 40 - The Earth is Also Flat

Author: Dawn

“Do you happen to know Scorpion?”

His parents’ and Caroline’s voices gradually grew distant.

Halo spoke first as August quietly looked at him.

“Speak comfortably.”

This meant he would also treat Halo casually.

The old man’s smile deepened.

“I’m curious about many things regarding you, Mr. Halo.”

The old man did not address Halo casually and used honorifics. He did not intend to look down on Halo just because of his young age. He was even more so because there were aspects about the real ‘Halo’ that were inexplicable through reason alone.

There were many unusually suspicious points about Halo.

“How can you speak posh English?”

It is uncommon for an Asian child to use clear RP (Received Pronunciation; standard English).

Most nationals use Estuary English (the de facto standard English). Those from multicultural families or international students often show influence from their native languages.

The child in front of him did not fall into either of these cases. It was posh, the kind used by the British upper class. And, unless he misheard, Halo seemed to have used expressions that August’s peers might use.

“Also, how can you be so skilled with contracts?”

Even apart from language, there were other things that stood out.

The nonchalant way he read through the contract was not at all childlike.

Leisurely reading through a contract while calmly asserting one’s rights is a demeanor often seen in top stars. It was strange to see such a demeanor in a fifteen-year-old Halo.

“You must understand. Curiosity grows as one grows old.”

He wondered if Halo had experience with contracts back in his hometown, but one thing stood out. Halo’s parents did not seem familiar with contracts at all.

They spoke the language—American English—fluently, but showed considerable wariness and tension. At least, they were not people familiar with contracts related to this industry.

After saying this much, August examined Halo’s face. Halo was still smiling, as if telling him to continue speaking.

“I’m not forcing you to answer.”

He was curious, but it was not important.

August did not want to upset Halo’s mood just to satisfy his own curiosity.

Perhaps all his curiosity stemmed from prejudices he had failed to completely discard. Questions that would not have arisen if Halo had been the kind of person August had imagined.

“Now that I think about it, what’s important is that you are The Sun, and that’s it.”

Halo, who had been listening silently to August, twitched his eyebrows when he heard the familiar term.

“The Sun?”

“Ah, you may not know.”

The old man, who was in his 70s or 80s and a prospective contractual partner, had unexpectedly called him The Sun, like fans would. August explained with a somewhat excited expression that ‘The Sun’ referred to Halo.

In summary:

Everyone thought Halo was a former top star who had concealed his identity, and they would hush anyone who tried to call him ‘Halo,’ only referring to him as ‘him’ or ‘you know who.’

In the midst of this, when Halo did not appear for a month, a comment left by one of his crazed former fans, ‘O Sun, the world has fallen into darkness,’ gave rise to the nickname ‘The Sun.’

After about thirty minutes of explanation, Halo realized why he had received the same nickname as before, despite the vastly different circumstances.

It was strange yet made him wonder if there was such a thing as ‘destiny’ in this world, that he ended up with the same name despite everything being so different from the past.

Anyway, he had heard the reason for becoming The Sun, and now it was his turn to ask a question.

“I’m also curious about something.”

“What is it?”

August asked softly, as if he knew Halo would ask something.

“How did you become convinced?”

That I’m Halo.

Just as the old man had found many puzzling things about him, Halo was equally perplexed. How did this old man look at him and become convinced he was Halo, and even bring him to this meeting room?

Moreover, the old man did not ask for separate proof and proceeded with the contract without a shred of doubt that he was ‘Halo.’

“It wasn’t the image of Halo you had imagined, was it?”

Halo did not answer the old man’s question, but the old man readily answered.

“What kind of Halo did you imagine?”

Based on the comments, Halo thought:

Age 40s or 50s and up. An alcoholic smoker, lived through three generations and produced over 1500 songs, standing over 2 meters tall, with beams shooting from his eyes—a former top musician or band.

While he expected such an answer, August’s response was different from his expectations.

“A youth who has experienced and overcome the world’s hardships.”

“…”

“Am I wrong?”

The old man let out a mischievous laugh.

Halo did not ask the old man again how he had recognized him. In fact, that was not important, and what mattered more was how to proceed from here.

“Well, shall we have a more constructive conversation now?”

#

When his parents returned, Halo came out of the meeting room.

“Did you talk well?”

“Yes, it was fine. Did you enjoy touring the company?”

“They decorated it prettily. What did you and the grandpa talk about?”

“I’ll tell you on the way home.”

They exchanged glances with August Veil and Caroline, who had guided them through the company. They planned to discuss the details after reviewing the contract.

On the way home, Halo briefly recalled his ‘constructive’ conversation with the old man.

-There are things we need to discuss regarding ‘Halo’s’ identity.

August Veil made it clear that he did not intend to interfere with Halo’s future music activities (concerts, etc.).

Halo had no immediate plans to perform live.

For one, given his still young body, his pride would not allow him to collapse during a concert. Secondly, he was in a hurry to record his past albums.

Regarding the plan to release a single album soon, the old man was surprised by the factory-like composition process and asked if there was really a need to rush.

-Wouldn’t it be more enjoyable to find success and communicate with fans?

-I don’t dislike communicating with fans, but…

Halo thought.

Wasn’t it too easy to find success again with an album that had already succeeded once? For him, it was more of a gamble, and he craved the tension rather than an obvious outcome.

He enjoyed being told that he had no slump.

His past albums were mere records of the past; he wanted to find new success with an album he had yet to present to the public.

And the first step was Halo’s 13th regular album ‘Until Dawns Come’ that he had been unable to release.

At the rate of one regular album per month, it would take over a year just for the regular albums, and even longer with the singles—.

Halo estimated it would take about two years. A long or short time, depending on one’s perspective.

Considering Roh Haeil’s age.

‘It’ll be quick.’

Halo nodded.

He did not know how August Veil felt about his calling it easy. But the old man seemed very delighted to hear that Halo had no plans to reveal himself to the world yet.

-Ah, just imagining those fools clinging to their beliefs and arguing that they’re right is already fun. Heheh.

From the snippets he overheard, Halo understood what the old man was thinking. He could also relate, as there were times when reading the deductive comments was quite entertaining.

And he looked forward to the fans’ reactions when the truth was eventually revealed. He disliked the expected. The expected meant boring.

Wanting to always leave his fans with unexpected, shocking surprises, he continued to smile as he read the newly emerging comments.

-He was alive after all #MichaelJacksonAlive

#becauseof200billiondebt

└ oh

└ these fools are starting again

└ yeah and the Earth is flat too

“So you’re not going to tell us?”

His mother asked with a curious look.

His father also seemed inquisitive, even without saying anything.

“I just talked about my plans for the future.”

Halo shrugged.

“That I’ll work harder.”

#

While requesting a review of the contract, Halo and his family strolled through the festive London. Unlike other times when even jokes were dark (black), during Christmas, the city was second to none compared to any other country.

After spending a satisfying cultural activity with his family, Halo sent his parents away from the hotel under the pretext of composing music.

Though his father and mother didn’t seem too convinced, they left after emphasizing three times that he should just stay at the hotel, perhaps wanting some alone time for a date.

Shortly after, he saw his parents leaving through the window. Seeing them with their arms linked, they seemed like an unusually affectionate couple overflowing with rare love.

Watching them, Halo immediately picked up his guitar.

Christmas festivals are full of alcohol, music, and people. People come out onto the streets, clink glasses, and strike up conversations even with strangers.

The romantic situations one might see in movies can easily happen with alcohol and music.

At Trafalgar Square, filled with Christmas street markets, Halo walked towards where he heard what he loved most.

From one side came the lively sound of an acoustic guitar and the tones of another guitar. It was too intense to be called a duet; they were clashing fiercely. It was a situation that naturally piqued one’s curiosity.

Entering the crowded fountain area, Halo discovered a man in a hooded sweatshirt and another man facing each other and strumming their guitars.

One would skillfully flail his guitar,

and the other would chuckle and play more intricately.

They were clearly competing in skill.

Despite the rare sight, it was immediately recognizable. The surrounding audience watched with interest or cheered for the one they thought was better. With a drink in hand, they seemed like they would even cheer if the two men started fighting.

But instead of fighting physically, the men fought like men with their guitars.

The police officers, who had been on standby in case of an incident, looked relieved as they watched them.

The back-and-forth competition eventually ended in victory for the man wearing the pulled-down hoodie.

With skills that didn’t seem amateur.

The audience was curious about his identity but didn’t make an effort to find out.

“Are there any challengers who want to beat me?”

The man asked as he chugged his beer.

His pearly white teeth, piercings, and tattoos were visible beneath the pulled-down hoodie and large beanie. Anyone who met his gaze would shrug and step back.

Whether a pro guitarist or not, it was clear he was someone who enjoyed the attention.

“The match is over, so play a nice song instead.”

“You ruined the mood, so take responsibility!”

Another spectator shouted at him.

“Play? My performances don’t come cheap, you know?”

“A pint of ale should be enough.”

When the other man showed a fresh beer glass, the man’s lips curled up.

“Deal.”

He then got into position to play the guitar, contemplating his song selection.

“Don’t you have any of your own albums?”

“Come to my concert to hear those.”

After seeming to think for a while, the man suddenly chuckled.

“I’ve been really into this one song lately.”

The man wetted his throat with more beer.

“It’s quite difficult, to the point where I think the composer must have been a pervert.”

The audience, who had been chattering, now looked at him with anticipation. How difficult could the song be for such a skilled man to show tension?

“But it’s really a great song. The title is—”

“Struggle.”

Halo’s eyes shot open.

A familiar word. The audience tilted their heads.

Just the title alone made them think of classical rather than pop music.

Was he going to perform a classical piece on guitar?

The man got into position.

Halo realized the man was holding a folk (acoustic) guitar, not an electric one.

He wondered how Struggle, which he had expressed with an electric guitar, would be played on a folk guitar.

He folded his arms.

Let’s see how well he does, with that mindset.

A gentle melody drifted over.

#

Wow!

Cheers rang out across the square.

At first, thinking he was playing a sorrowful blues, the stiff people cheered enthusiastically.

While unable to fully capture the mood of the electric guitar, it was undoubtedly a decent performance.

Except for a few parts.

The man was panting heavily.

It was technique, but he also seemed exhausted from the heightened emotions.

Someone handed him an ale.

The man gulped it down, spilling half of it.

The man’s eyes scanned the audience.

Then, when his eyes met Halo’s, the man slightly bent his knees and asked,

“How was it, kid?”

It wasn’t clear who he was calling a kid.

Halo, with his arms still folded, said,

“It was a bit disappointing compared to my expectations.”

“What the… What did you say?”

He must have expected praise.

Halo might have praised him if it were a different song.

But to praise him when he made five mistakes with his song? That’s a stretch.

“What did you say, kid?”

“You made five mistakes so far. One at the 7-second intro, one at 1 minute 33 seconds. And… Shall I continue?”

“…”

The man, rendered speechless, folded his arms.

He seemed to have realized his mistakes.

But he hadn’t expected to be called out by an audience member.

The man’s eyes turned towards something behind Halo’s back.

Though his eyes couldn’t be seen clearly, the movement of the tattoo on his face indicated a change.

The man’s lips curled as he spoke.

“I don’t know about that?”

“Really?”

The man chuckled.

“So why don’t you enlighten me, kid?”

He nodded towards Halo’s guitar.

“It’s a song by a musician I greatly respect, so I should do it justice.”

“Who is it?”

“Uh…”

This time he seemed speechless because he didn’t know.

Realizing he had lost a verbal spar to a kid who was probably over twenty years younger than him, the man changed tack.

“But if you play well enough, I might see you again. I could even teach you guitar.”

Halo let out a light snort and took out his guitar.

People who had been watching the brave teenager with interest whistled.

“It’s you who should learn from me.”

Seeing the man’s expression become strange, Halo raised his guitar.

The same ‘Struggle’ rang out.

The same folk guitar, but the quality of the guitars might account for the difference.

He had considered bringing an electric guitar, but since it was the acoustic version, it wasn’t too difficult.

It was his music, after all.

Author's Thoughts

Hi everyone, I've fully translated this series. If you love the series and wanted to binge read until the end, you can go to my Patreon "Shop" page. Instead of buying the advanced chapters one by one, you can buy them in one bulk (with discounted price too)!

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Dawn

Hello! If you any questions and if you found any errors on my translations, please do @ me on our discord server (@_dawn24) since I might miss your comment here. And also, I really appriciate your support by buying the advanced chapters or just giving me some donation, thank you!

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