"Look, isn't that Timberlake? Could he actually be Azazel?"
"If I'm not mistaken, Timberlake hosts a show on FOX, right? If I remember right, that program's called Drink Up."
"What if that's just a cover?"
"But Timberlake's mother is a devout believer. It might actually make sense."
That was the gossip between two reporters from Variety. Cameras clicked like crazy as they snapped Timberlake's silhouette.
The Hollywood Reporter, Variety, and Entertainment Weekly were America's three most famous entertainment magazines.
Compared to those big names who acted a little more reserved and didn't rush forward right away, the tabloids, self-media outlets, and YouTubers didn't care about manners. They swarmed him like flies on rotting meat, desperate for heat and traffic.
"Are you Azazel?"
"Your disguise has already been exposed online, did you know that?"
"Timberlake, do you have faith?"
"Whoa, whoa, calm down, guys. Push any closer and your mics will be in my mouth." Timberlake wasn't just some singer, he'd won five Grammy Awards. He'd weathered bigger storms than this, so in no time he had the chaos under control.
But when that one reporter asked about his "disguise being exposed," Timberlake's heart skipped a beat. Damn it, did someone discover he was secretly backing the world's biggest piracy site?
"What disguise? Exposed by the internet? Man, the net's already seen me under my underwear, what's left to expose?"
Everyone in America knew the joke. During a certain reality show, thanks to a prankster buddy sneaking over the wall, Timberlake had been caught on camera sleeping stark naked. The footage spread nationwide. That was American variety TV for you.
From the messy explanations, he pieced it together. Relief washed over him. Good, it wasn't that secret. After all, he never funded that piracy site for money. The guy had even uploaded his own album there just for fun.
"Azazel, yeah, I know of him. Last night's clip of him singing Jesus Loves Me went viral online. Since I was recording at FOX, my sister, brother-in-law, mom, uncle—pretty much the whole family—called me asking if I knew anything.
Even the people in The Masked Singer crew don't know the singers' identities. I'm not part of the staff, so of course I've got no idea. But you guys thinking I'm Azazel himself, I've gotta admit, that's some real faith in me.
Azazel's vocal technique and that childlike purity in his voice, I'd give anything to have that."
Timberlake was secretly a little pleased. Holy shit, the media thought he was on the same level as a legend? He wasn't just being modest. Any pro listening to Azazel could tell—the head voice and light mix had zero trace of effort.
No trace meant natural. That was the ultimate goal of every seasoned singer, returning to the essence.
"I respect anyone's faith. And I believe people will respect me for not having one."
"I support Jennifer's claim that Azazel is a singer from the British Isles."
"If I knew anything, I'd tweet it immediately."
After answering a few more questions, Timberlake slipped into the company building.
The next singer arriving got the same treatment. The media swarmed them with the same opening line: "Your disguise has been exposed." If a star had something weighing on their conscience or their resolve was shaky, they might just start spilling.
But those reporters had no idea—the masked singer they were dying to find had already entered the building before eight in the morning, when not even a ghost was around.
Chu Zhi hadn't come early to dodge them. He was simply here to support the Unsinkable crew's promo on FOX. Turned out it killed two birds with one stone.
He had two more shows lined up for promo. One was a solo interview targeting North America's middle-class audience, focusing on him as "the first Chinese actor to star in a major Hollywood production."
The other was with director Cameron, actress Idolia, and supporting actor Momoko, more entertainment-focused.
On top of that, there was the masked show. Three recordings in one day, so of course Chu Zhi came early.
Seeing Momoko and Idolia again was bittersweet. Momoko immediately said, "Don't leave LA tonight. I know a super safe bar. My treat." Idolia had just finished an art-house film playing a single mother. She looked a bit worn.
The real highlight was Chu Zhi's solo interview.
The interviewer was Sabine, one of Hollywood's top hosts. Her motto: "The best interviews are measured offenses."
Her reputation was fiercer than her actual bite.
"Mr. Chu, do you think landing the lead role in Unsinkable had anything to do with investors targeting the Chinese market?"
"As a singer who spent over half a year filming, do you think you're letting down your fans?"
If she were truly ruthless, she would've asked, "Did you get the lead role by bringing in funding?" But Chu Zhi answered calmly. His strong album sales over the past decade spoke for themselves.
The solo interview lasted nearly three hours. It would be cut down to about fifty minutes. Just like everywhere else, American variety shows rarely ran longer than an hour. Even Man vs. Wild was only around forty minutes per episode.
"Mr. Chu, do you believe in zodiac signs?" Sabine asked suddenly at the end.
"Zodiac signs?" Chu Zhi didn't even know his own sign. "Sabine, are you implying my horoscope has something I should know? If so, I'd love to hear it."
In other words, he didn't believe but was open to listening. Sabine liked that answer. Talking with someone smart and polite was refreshing.
"According to your chart, today and tomorrow are your luckiest days this month," Sabine explained. Astrology wasn't like Chinese Four Pillars fortune-telling, exact birth time wasn't crucial. General data was enough.
Lucky days? That, Chu Zhi liked. "Please, Sabine, tell me more."
She dove into technical terms about planetary aspects. Emperor Beast didn't get any of it, but he did catch the "lucky spot" and "lucky direction."
During a break, he asked Xiao Zuzhi to buy a wood carving, then pulled up a map, found southwest, and went to the fire exit to face that way.
"Zodiac, I really believe in you. Don't let me down. Brother System, time for a lottery pull!"
If luck was maxed out, wasn't it fair to aim for a big prize? He had 44 personality coins. One pull cost 5, so after this he'd have 39 left.
Without even checking the pool, he trusted his luck and picked a blind box.
Golden light—[Ode to Joy Voice]
"What the hell is this?" First thing he thought of was Schiller's poem and Beethoven's symphony. But the extra "Voice" tag…
Studying it, he realized it was a sound-emotion buff, like the Qin Shi Huang one. It boosted joy to 100 percent. Even a sad song would make listeners feel overjoyed. Creepy, honestly, like angelic gospel that spreads happiness, but different in emphasis.
Damn, System really held grudges. Chu Zhi remembered, half a year ago he'd complained there weren't any new buffs. The stubborn System had made him draw two in a row, and now he had Ode to Joy Voice and Honey Badger Voice.
With six emotional buffs in hand, Chu Zhi was basically a hexagon warrior, covering almost every genre.
"Seriously, System, your biggest help is these buffs. That's the jackpot. Star signs might work too. I'll try again tomorrow."
Sure, it wasn't the god-tier talent he imagined, but close enough.
Wait… with Ode to Joy Voice, he had an idea. And once an idea took root, it spread like wildfire.
Come on, it's normal to want to show off a little.
He slipped into the Masked Singer director Lukinsky's office, asking to switch songs for that afternoon's recording.
Lukinsky stared. If it weren't for Chu Zhi's first performance, he'd have refused outright. But now…
"May I ask why, sir? I'll need to explain it to the producer. It's risky, especially since Yesterday Once More had such a great rehearsal."
"I want to spread joy. And She Taught Me How to Yodel will make people happy," Chu Zhi said.
"…Joy?" Lukinsky hadn't expected that. But seeing the determination in Chu Zhi's eyes, he could only agree.
"Then we'll have to rush rehearsal."
Once Chu Zhi left, Lukinsky muttered, "Joy, my ass. Artists really do think differently."
He already considered Chu Zhi an artist. Yesterday Once More was Carpenters' classic, probably among America's top 20 pop songs. It was a sure win. Yet he tossed it aside just to "spread joy." Insane.
Of course, Chu Zhi wasn't just spreading joy. He wanted to show off.
She Taught Me How to Yodel might seem silly, but it was one of the most famous yodeling songs ever.
Yes, that yodeling—the so-called "world's hardest singing style."
Truth was, yodeling wasn't impossible. It was just constant, playful flips between chest and head voice. Ordinary songs flipped once per line. Yodeling flipped back and forth endlessly. A pure skill flex.
Yesterday Once More was good, no doubt. But it wasn't flashy enough.
So Chu Zhi worked with the crew to swap songs, even buying coffee for the whole backstage staff since he'd made them work harder.
Time passed. Masked Singer was about to start.
"Will he keep singing gospel tonight? If so…"
"Fuck, if the producers make me face him, I'll make the director kiss my ass. This bullshit competition's ruined with a singer like that. How's there any suspense left?"
On the side, Himalaya Horman was cursing under his breath, desperate to know his rival's song choice.
Other contestants felt the same: Toothless Elephant, Footballer, Red Lion—all of them were nervous.
"Getting eliminated in the second round would be humiliating. I've got to at least make the finals," Red Lion muttered, clearing his throat.
Danny the Footballer, last week's loser to the environmentalist team, paced the room like crazy.
"God bless me, please. If I don't face Azazel this round, I'll go to church every week," Danny prayed.
The weaker the skill, the greater the nerves. Among the masked singers, Ted—aka Toothless Elephant—was the weakest. He'd only joined as a baseball player cameo. But after sneaking through round one with tricks, his competitive streak lit up.
"Guess I'm the sacrifice this round. If it's Azazel… Damn it, the animal rights group didn't even have this much clout. What do I do?" Ted groaned. His skills couldn't compare, and even thematically, he'd lose.
Down the hall, the substitute contestant was prepping.
Her masked persona: Black-Faced Goat. Real name: Kara, a folk singer from Northern Ireland. Ireland called her "the voice that moved the nation." Britain called her "the beautiful voice of the Isles." Rare praise from both sides.
Kara sat in the makeup room while stylist Adam adjusted her horns.
"Sir, may I ask you something?"
"If it's about Azazel, I can't say a thing," Adam replied. Every contestant had tried fishing for info.
Was it because he was honorable? Hell no. It was the contract and penalty fees.
"I wouldn't put you in a spot," Kara said. "I just want to know, they won't make me face last week's strongest contestant on my debut, right?"
Adam thought. "There's no precedent for that. You should be safe."
That reassurance let Kara finally relax a little.
A Chinese singer who made even the possibility of facing him terrifying—Adam had never imagined someone with such a handsome face would also have such overwhelming power.
With all contestants ready, the 300-member audience took their seats.
Host Nick kicked off with an awkward dance, then boomed:
"Welcome, everyone, to the thrilling game Masked Singer! I'm your host Nick. Tonight, we've got three exciting matchups: Red Lion versus Black-Faced Goat, Azazel versus Toothless Elephant, and Footballer versus Himalaya!"
===
Yesterday Once More – by The Carpenters, 1973.
She Taught Me How to Yodel – written by Paul Roberts, popularized by Frank Ifield.
Ode to Joy (An die Freude) – poem by Friedrich Schiller, set to music by Ludwig van Beethoven in his Symphony No. 9.