"The Magician said his face pays the bills, so I think he's an actor. His voice sounds familiar, I think I know who he is."
"An Emmy winner, maybe Justin?"
"Himalaya's tall and built, could he be an NFL guy?"
"No, no, no, Himalaya's moves are smooth. He dances a lot, but he's not a pro, so he's probably a singer who's always on stage."
The panel's guesses narrow the range every time. Big picture, they're not dumb.
The show's four celebrity panelists are political correctness wrapped in glitter, two men and two women. Korean American actor Kang Jiang, Texan white actress Hartman, Latina actress Jennifer, California director actor Austin. Count the host Nick's skin tone and you've got harmony in a bowl.
If you're sharp, or if you've got a system in your head, you've noticed one thing. None of the panelists are pro singers. They're all actors or directors.
That's got pros and cons. The con is weak technical feedback. The pro is they won't spot vocal fingerprints. Deliciously chaotic.
"Fuck, four brainless humanoids. They said I can't dance. My friends call me a dance robot."
"A dance robot, got it? Movements precise like a machine!"
"Trash show."
Himalaya, real name Hulk Horman, starts cussing again, this time only inside. It's not that he won't curse in public, he's hiding his identity. Plenty of Western artists swear, but his rhythm's unique, starts with f and ends with s.
So when the host asks, he answers like a gentleman.
He hides his beloved rap and picks a turn of the millennium ballad everyone knows.
His musical IQ's high. With a mouth like that and a long Hollywood career, he's not weak. His tone's low and rich, throat open, support locked in, a love song that makes hearts bloom. No wonder Qatar invited him to help open the World Cup.
When he finishes, the crowd chants "Himalaya," applause rolling in waves. He nailed it.
Good thing the mask covers his face, or you'd catch the smirk and that look that says, fall under my dazzling performance.
Huh? He's giving a touch of that smug prince vibe.
"See that? Not someone you mess with. I wanted to get close and check his mountain headpiece, now I'm too scared," Nick keeps the room in his palm.
"My god, that really was a killer opener." Hartman's classic American bombshell, blonde hair, red lips.
Fun fact, natural blondes are rare in the States. Most screen blondes are dyed.
"Look at him, Himalaya can show off," Kang Jiang says. "I want to worship that mountain."
"Oh, unbelievable. I'm literally talking to a mountain," Jennifer says. "His voice is like a perfect pizza, rich and mature."
She pinches Kang Jiang's arm while she talks. Some women just need to grab something when they're excited, totally normal.
Austin says, "He's a seasoned performer. He stirs the ladies and gents, then fires himself up."
Nick asks, "Got a name in mind?"
They start throwing out guesses. Every wrong name earns another silent swear from Horman.
Next up, the Magician. He's got a King of Spades head. Comedian Nevis has some singing chops. At KTV he'd be a mic hog. Compared to Horman though, he's outclassed.
He adds circus style choreography, a little goofy, a little fun, which hides some of the vocal limits, but singing and dancing at once murders breath control. It's not worth it.
Votes come in. Himalaya wins by a mile.
"Magician, that puts you in the danger zone. Head backstage and await judgment. Now, the stage is set for our next wild clash, Red Lion versus Azazel!"
No time wasted, Nick pulls the next pair in.
Both are pro singers, so they talk into handheld mics. Red Lion steps out first.
Red Lion, Anna Goran, picks a song totally outside her usual lane, straight rock.
As she belts, the lion's-mane collar cape shivers, hem skimming the floor, each stride like wind sweeping leaves.
She uses big, open staging moves, holds back her high notes on purpose, throws her arms wide.
The vibe screams, the rhino cries to the moon, the thousand birds call, the lion turns its head, ten thousand beasts bow.
"Wow," Nick yelps. "Panel, give us something."
"This person, she's serious," Old White Guy Austin says.
"Real gold can't be covered," Jennifer says. "This is the best female rock vocal I've heard."
"You said your singing's average? Liar," Kang Jiang says. "You were fantastic."
Her clue reel said, "Critics always knock my vocals, and I know I'm just average. I want to be the brave red lion, Leo, who overcomes her weakness."
Leo's the lead of a hit Western kids' novel in this world, like Jungle Emperor on Earth.
"Average vocals is the most ridiculous intro I've heard today," Nick says.
Whatever "Versailles" means in English, the crowd smells it. Big time humblebrag.
Flower vase to powerhouse, starting right here.
With the audience roaring and the panel gushing, Anna Goran feels locked in. Dragon's on your face, how do you lose?
"If you want the season seven crown, Himalaya's the threat," she thinks.
What about the named rival's opinion?
"She's not a rocker. It's forced. No attitude," Horman mutters backstage, studying his next opponents. He watches Red Lion and lands opposite the panel.
"Good, but not as good as me," he judges, and adds, "This show's only classy because I'm here."
"Which means Azazel's in danger," Nick says.
Lights flip. The chief of fallen angels enters. Chu Zhi walks out, two haloed cherubs trailing him. The mood's set perfectly.
After his clue reel, the room buzzes, especially at the big boss energy in those hints.
Austin says, "A quarter of the world's heard his songs? Is Azazel a legend, but he sounds young."
"Maybe he's the guy who records birthday songs. Every birthday needs one. Happy birthday to you. He said he plays lots of instruments, so maybe he grew up loaded," Kang Jiang says, hands slicing the air.
"Azazel said, 'I'll change my singing so no one thinks I sound familiar,' so I disagree," Hartman says. "He's a blockbuster theme singer."
She even guesses a Canadian who sang last year's global number one movie theme.
"I think he's young. That's the feeling," Jennifer says.
Center stage, dancers in ballerina style bodysuits flap tiny wings.
What's he singing? He's dressed as an angel, well, a fallen angel's still an angel, so "Jesus Loves Me" fits.
Gospel's its own lane, and "Jesus Loves Me" is one of the most successful hymns on earth. Churches worldwide use it millions of times a day.
Perfect. He's got Angel's Gospel as a skill. He jokes about preaching all the time, so today's the trial run.
There are tons of versions. The Emperor Beast picks a grand one, orchestral intro, then dials in ninety percent of Angel's Gospel.
🎵 Yes, Jesus loves me, for the Bible tells me so. Jesus loves me, this I know… 🎵
It sounds childish in Chinese, sure, "Yes, Jesus loves me, because the Bible tells me so." In his voice though, you feel a father's love. Don't get it twisted, the father is Jesus.
"?" Anna Goran blanks. The confidence slides off her face, replaced by slow shock.
Singing a Christian hymn on Masked Singer, you sly fox.
🎵 Little ones to Him belong, they are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me… 🎵
His voice feels wrapped in holy light. Dancers swirl, the floor screens bloom with clouds and piled cumulus.
Three hundred people go quiet, believers and atheists both. Longer than Mulan's silence debuff.
Everyone feels that warm comfort in his tone. It's weird to say, but the voice has a temperature.
The lift rises under his feet. He stands above the crowd and keeps singing.
🎵 Oh, yes, Jesus loves me, Yes, Jesus loves me, for the Bible tells me so. Pressing on the upward way… 🎵
It's just repeating, "Yes, Jesus loves me," but add the melody, his technique, and that gospel buff, and the faithful see an angel descend.
Well, especially since he's literally dressed like one.
Himalaya, Horman himself, is lost. "This guy? A church bishop? I hear pity for the world in his voice. Fuck, this shocks me more than me not swearing."
"No, not a bishop. The technique's too refined. Like a craftsman who's made teaware his whole life."
Strong, insanely strong. Horman feels the pressure rolling off this horned angel.
The last time he felt a force this heavy was the World Cup opener.
"Fuck, why did production invite a monster like this?"
"A whole crew of trash," he mutters again.
Why didn't he place the voice? Because Chu Zhi changed his placement and color. Farinelli sang in churches. It's native ground.
His delivery's airtight.
🎵 Always guide me, Lord, I pray, undeserving and stubborn, yet You never fail to love me still. Yes, Jesus loves me, Oh, yes, Jesus loves me… 🎵
That soft "oh" makes more than hearts tremble. It's like a fingertip from the void brushing souls.
===
Song performed: "Jesus Loves Me" Original lyricist: Anna Bartlett Warner. Composer who popularized the hymn: William Batchelder Bradbury.