Chapter 78
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Beethoven: Für Elise (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Art doesn't pay.
Being an artist is a job for madmen.
Langfer thoroughly agreed
with that proposition.
After all,
he was someone who'd spent a good twenty years immersed in music, an art form that brought in no money.
Of course, there were certainly artists and musicians treated like grand masters, living their lives crushed under immense wealth.
But he wasn't one of them.
His talent simply fell short of reaching that master's domain.
At best, he'd end up as an accompanist for small orchestras or store events.
Even if his life went a bit more smoothly, he'd probably top out as a piano teacher for aspiring young children.
That's why he abandoned art.
Instead, he built a business that left nothing to envy and secured enough leisure in life to idly flip through novels in the salon during weekday afternoons.
He was immensely satisfied with his current life.
It was a far cry from his past, when he'd harbored vain hopes while staring at his insufficient talent and needle's-eye dreams.
That's why.
"Hmm, a novel about a musician."
The novel by Ulysses, the rising star who'd begun making a name for himself in the salon with his war and political stories.
"It's full of holes."
It didn't satisfy Langfer's eyes at all.
For starters, the protagonist was from a prestigious family, showed genius talent from a very young age, and grew up with full family support despite any abuse?
What kind of contrived setup was this?
The parents would probably die off quickly, leaving nothing but the protagonist's endless triumphs.
And the plot developments were contrived beyond belief.
At seven years old, barely past babbling incoherently—a child whose hands weren't even big enough to properly strike the keys—holding a first public concert?
What on earth did this author think music was?
That's why he quickly lost interest in the novel and folded the newspaper.
At that moment.
Thud—
The packaged paper bundled with the newspaper supplement fell to the floor.
With a flicker of curiosity, he tore open the wrapping.
A sheet of music was enclosed.
Bagatelle No. 25 in A minor.
Für Elise.
Bagatelle meant a short piece for piano in two or three movements, and No. 25 indicated it was the twenty-fifth such work.
"He knows some basics, at least..."
Langfer sneered again.
The research seemed decent enough, and using the technical terms was fine.
But including sheet music as a novel supplement?
What an inflated ego.
Did this Ulysses fellow have no sense of shame?
But voicing it aloud wasn't an option.
There were quite a few of his fans in the salon.
Sneering, he flipped through the sheet music.
And then.
"......"
His expression stiffened.
As if his soul had been snatched by the devil, he peered into the short, mere four-page piece.
The first thing that hit him was a shiver.
Then doubt.
No way.
The author didn't compose this himself, right?
But this musical progression.
No piece he'd ever played had unfolded with such bold manipulation of mood.
Quite experimental, yet...
Precisely because of that, it seeped even deeper into the heart.
"I can't hold back."
The ticklish sensation at his fingertips, as if he could almost grasp the melody's tail end while reading the score—
Langfer headed straight for the piano at the salon's edge, used only occasionally for music appreciation gatherings.
He brushed the dust from the chair, lifted the cover, struck the keys to check the tuning.
It wasn't in perfect condition, but it was sufficient to capture this piece.
He took a deep breath.
And recalled memories from long ago.
Then.
He began coaxing out the melody after far too long.
The gentle piano tones swept through the salon, noisy with novel discussions, first tapping the ears of people wondering where this piano sound came from.
Those who'd already heard music at Peach World Tree Plaza nodded along, recalling that past thrill.
Those hearing this melody for the first time today gradually immersed themselves in its free-spirited flow.
Since he'd sight-read it straight into performance, there were awkward spots aplenty.
After the performance ended.
In the silence as the piano faded completely.
Clap, clap.
Clap clap clap—
The sound of applause erupted noisily here and there, filling the void.
Feeling the audience's response after so long,
Langfer sensed his long-stilled heart begin to beat again, little by little.
Ah.
Yes.
This is music, this is art.
And I—
"The piano really is the best..."
The sensation of his lost soul returning home thrilled Langfer.
But he instinctively knew
his performance was woefully inadequate for this melody.
So, he'd have to practice diligently for a while.
Savoring the fullness, Langfer examined the composer's name on the score again.
Ludwig van Beethoven.
...The same name as the novel's protagonist from the story he'd dismissed with jargon like "hop off."
He'd had no intention of reading it again.
But that performance had changed Langfer's mind.
Whether it was the author or someone else who wrote it, fictional character or not.
He wanted to peer into Beethoven's life.
This piece was undoubtedly worthy of that.
It took quite a few twists and turns for 'Beethoven' to make it onto the pages of Novelpia.
"Why'd you take so looong—! There was nothing to reeead—!"
He even faced an ambush from Esthea, who'd gone from mongrel pup gobbling anything to fully darkened evolution, corrupting into a total Pippi degenerate.
"What? A musician? Why write it as a novel? Can't you just grab anyone and make them play?"
"......"
Their mindset is fundamentally different from ours.
Like, why write it when you can just kidnap.
Kidnapping is their lifestyle.
"Blackie."
"Yeah?"
"How about living with a bit more dignity befitting the great and noble Gold Dragon? Human trafficking is a crime."
"Indeed. Lady Esthea, that's bad behavior."
For the sake of the poor souls who might get kidnapped.
And for my own safety, I teamed up with Historie to instill modern ethics and human rights into Blackie.
Because otherwise, I'd be in danger.
"Hmm, but I thought I offered pretty good terms... Just work ten years and you're free..."
"How can imprisoning someone for ten years be good terms?"
The sulking Blackie thumped her tail, spilling the labor conditions of her dragon lair.
"Kim Yul. How about us, just ten years—"
"Snap out of it, tin can."
...Honestly, the work conditions were so generous I was tempted too, enough to slightly reevaluate Esthea.
To the point where, if writing goes south later, I could just cling to Blackie and live happily ever after.
.
.
.
Also.
"How can a musician be the protagonist? Practicing all day, performing all day. Wouldn't that be a super boring life? I don't really want to see that. Sounds dull and pretentious."
The incarnation of capitalism, blind to art's beauty.
There was a minor issue with Chloe too.
If it were private, I'd have grabbed her ears and made her apologize to all musicians.
But I'm a man who strictly separates work and personal.
"Eek—"
Skipping the scolding spell, I gently massaged the impudent elf's ears right in front of a would-be artist while she badmouthed artists' lives.
"Expert stories have their own charm. Better to read and judge for yourself, President."
I shoved the pre-prepared draft into Chloe's brain.
Of course, I somewhat agree that expert stories have a slight entry barrier.
But.
An artist's daily life might be dull.
But an artist's life surely isn't.
Especially Beethoven's twists and turns.
After reading the draft and full synopsis, a spark lit in Chloe's eyes.
"Smells like money...!"
The highest praise her kind could offer me poured out.
"Thinking of selling sheet music too—Kim Yul really is a genius! Just hire some no-name composer and lowball the labor— Aghhh!"
Channeling the fury of all lowly artists,
I grabbed both her ears with my hands and twisted the tips vigorously.
Her face reddening, tears welling in her eyes.
Hmm.
What to say.
My inner sadism slipped out unwittingly...
"Gasp."
Feeling my mental world skew a bit, I hurriedly let go and declared confidently.
"Already got cooperation from a composer I know well, so just prepare the pages and paper. Oh, and set up a spot around that Peach World Tree."
"Ugh... Got it..."
.
.
.
And now, just as serialization began.
"President."
"D-Don't call me that! It sounds scary when you say it, Kim Yul!"
I swallowed a sigh as I looked at the trembling Chloe.
"Think you could recruit some people, by chance?"
"What kind?"
"Musicians. Good ones if possible, and quite a few."
A simple piano piece I could recreate with illusions like 'Für Elise.'
But symphonies needing harmonies and collaborations were a stretch that way.
Luckily, the scores were public domain, so Historie pulled near-perfect versions straight from her DB.
- Gonna call lots of people for a music concert? Sounds funnn! When? When we doing it?
I could even hook the ever-thirsting-for-stimulation Gold Dragon as a solid backer.
So.
From now on, step by step.
I wanted to lay the groundwork for an orchestra.
Practice takes a long time, after all.
Well, less for the novel's success.
More pure self-indulgence.
Still.
Those great musicians existing only in my memories,
in Historie's data.
Couldn't I offer that much tribute to the saint of music?
To put it crudely.
It's music too good to keep to myself.