The city loomed ahead in Kenji's thoughts long before he ever set foot on its streets. For days, the contest flyer burned in his mind, each bold letter a reminder: two weeks until he would stand against Ryo again. Two weeks until he either proved himself—or shattered under the weight of expectation.
The Virtual Studio unfolded around him every night, glowing with endless possibility. Each time, he pushed harder.
"System," Kenji said on the fourth night, sweat dripping from his chin. "Start Breath Control drills."
> [Confirmed. Initiating Breath Control Training.]
[Duration: 2 hours. Fatigue Penalty: Medium.]
His chest rose and fell as glowing markers floated before him—notes he had to hold, sustain, and release perfectly on time. The longer he lasted, the more resistance built, as if invisible weights pressed against his lungs.
By the end, Kenji was gasping, clutching his chest like he had run miles. Yet when he sang a note afterward, the strength startled him. His tone no longer wavered. His breath carried him further.
> [Progress: 30% toward Breath Control Mastery.]
The grind was brutal, but Kenji welcomed it. Every drop of sweat was a nail in the coffin of who he used to be—the boy who broke on stage, the boy who trembled at jeers.
At school, Haru never let him rest. "Sing for me," his friend demanded during lunch, slamming his chopsticks down.
"Haru, I just—"
"No excuses. You've got to get used to eyes on you. Pretend the classroom is the stage."
Kenji sighed but lifted his voice. The room quieted instantly, his classmates caught between chewing and listening. The notes filled the air with raw determination. When he stopped, whispers replaced silence.
"Damn… he really is improving."
"He's not the same guy from the talent show."
"…Still. Against Ryo?"
The doubts lingered, but Kenji didn't care. Every whisper was a reminder he was no longer invisible.
At night, the System offered something new.
> [Unlocked: Lyric Resonance Mode.]
[Description: Syncs user's emotional state with lyrics for maximum impact. Warning: Emotional Drain possible.]
Kenji hesitated. Emotional drain? He thought back to Chains—how every word had burned with anger and desperation. That resonance had shaken the audience.
"Activate it," he said.
The Studio dimmed, a spotlight locking on him. A prompt appeared.
> [Sing a piece tied to your strongest memory.]
Kenji's breath caught. His throat tightened before he even began. Slowly, he strummed the opening chords of the song he had once written but never finished—the one he had tried to sing for his mother before the talent show disaster.
The words trembled out of him, soaked in memory, in shame, in longing. Tears stung his eyes as his voice cracked, but he kept going. The spotlight pulsed with each note, amplifying the pain into power.
When the song ended, Kenji collapsed onto his knees. His chest heaved, but his body hummed with a strange release—like a wound had begun to close.
> [Lyric Resonance Training Complete.]
[Reward: Emotional Impact +15.]
Kenji lay on the floor, breathless but smiling through his tears. He wasn't just singing notes anymore. He was singing truth.
The days blurred. Practice, school, more practice. Even his teachers noticed his absentminded gaze, his muttered lyrics under his breath. But Kenji didn't care. Every hour counted.
One evening, as he left school with Haru, a commotion at the gate drew their attention. Students clustered around someone strumming a guitar, voices rising in admiration.
Kenji froze when he saw him.
Jin Arakawa.
The upperclassman's voice rang smooth and effortless, like velvet woven into sound. His song was light, yet carried weight; casual, yet refined. The crowd swayed, caught in his current.
Haru whistled low. "That's Jin? Damn, no wonder people call him the school's star."
Kenji's chest tightened. As if on cue, the System buzzed.
> [System Alert: Rival Detected.]
[Name: Jin Arakawa]
[Talent Rating: S]
[Specialization: Vocal Control (Advanced)]
Kenji's breath hitched. Another rival? As if Ryo wasn't enough, now the System was marking someone else.
Jin finished his song to loud applause, then his eyes drifted toward Kenji. Their gazes locked. Jin smiled faintly—acknowledgment, not mockery. But it was enough to make Kenji's pulse race.
"Another rival," Kenji muttered.
"Yeah," Haru said with a grin. "But hey… if you can stand against guys like him, then the city contest won't scare you, right?"
Kenji clenched his fists. Right. This wasn't fear anymore. This was fuel.
That night, the System spoke again.
> [Quest Generated: Surpass Ryo Tanaka in the City Youth Music Contest.]
[Secondary Quest: Outshine Jin Arakawa in a public performance within 1 month.]
[Rewards: Confidence Aura (Passive), Unknown Skill Unlock.]
Kenji stared at the glowing words. Two rivals. Two goals. Two paths converging on one stage.
He gripped his guitar. His voice was hoarse, his hands blistered from practice, but none of it mattered.
This was no longer about redemption.
It was about rising higher than anyone expected.
By the weekend, Kenji stood before the small mirror in his room. His reflection stared back—not the boy who had once choked before a crowd, but someone sharper, steadier. His golden eyes glimmered faintly with the system's influence.
He strummed once. The note resonated clean and strong. His voice followed, no longer trembling.
The city contest awaited.
Kenji Sato was ready to face it.