?Chapter 1050:

Aliza’sposition, on the other hand, stood apart. It was not wless—there were minor blemishes scattered across the score—but its spirit was unmistakable. It carried a voice. Those imperfections seemed to fade in the face of its character, like scratches on a masterpiece that only added to its charm.

As the piece unfolded, the judges began nodding, subtle and measured at first. But within a few bars, some were already jotting down scores in the nies, quietly moved by what they heard.

Among the crowd sat several young members of the Association. One leaned forward, brow furrowed, and whispered, “This sounds a lot like that new track Randell sang today.”

Thement sent a jolt through the listeners nearby. A murmur spread, swift and sharp.

“Are you saying Aliza giarized him?” someone shot back, incredulous.

“No way she would be foolish enough to steal from a pop singer. That would not just be risky—it would be suicidal. The Association would shut her out without a second thought.”

The Association did not y games with giarism. Getting cklisted would not just end her career—it would bring shame to her entire family. In Isonridge, reputations crumbled fast.

The first speaker raised both hands quickly.

“No, no, I do not mean it like that. It is not giarism. It just… feels familiar. The style. Like it came from the same hand.”

That remarknded heavier than an usation. It stirred something else entirely. Was Aliza theposer behind Randell’stest hit?

If that were true, then she was not just a promising musician—she was a phenomenon. She had the power tounch a singer to stardom with a single song. That kind of skill was rare, even among the Association’s veteran masters.

Every chapter lives on g a lno vels ;m

Aposition like that would not just impress the elite circles—it would spill beyond them. It would be a song sung on every street corner, something children and elders alike could hum without effort. And that kind of reach… that came from more than technical ability. It came from knowing people. Understanding the pulse of the crowd. A brilliant score filled withplicatedyers might please schrs, but if it failed to connect, it would fade. Aliza had written something that did both—artistic and essible.

The crowd grew restless. The youth in the hall were buzzing, every one of them familiar with Randell.

Whispers turned to spections. Eyes flicked between seats. Even the Morrisons, seated with dignifiedposure, could not hide their surprise.

Arion leaned closer, his voice low but filled with awe.

“I never imagined Randell’sposer was Aliza.”

Jenesis, sitting beside him, gave a thoughtful nod as she nced at the seat on her other side—still empty.

“As far as I know, Randell is Asher’s rtive,” she said, half to herself.

Carrie had stepped out just moments before, missing Aliza’s performance entirely.

Reece’s expression tightened. He said nothing, but his slight frown revealed enough. Thement had struck a nerve.

Arion, never known for subtlety, scoffed.

“Asher is not ying nice. He is close to Carrie, and yet…”

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