Chapter 104: The Time of a Genius (Limited)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 104: The Time of a Genius (Limited)
First, I began my special violin training while stepping on Yuseoha’s head.
There wasn't much of a reason for stepping on her. The texture of her hair felt nice, it satisfied my perverted "Mom’s" weird sexual desires, and ever since I stepped on Lisar’s head last time, I’d grown fond of that spine-tingling sensation.
It wasn't that I was awakening to some strange fetish or becoming some Great Demon King Sadist Master.
“You need to transition to a slightly higher note there before bringing it down.”
Even with her head being stepped on, Yuseoha began teaching me various techniques. Previously, it had just been about enjoying the violin or practicing new songs, but for the sake of the competition, we began refining the details one by one.
“Do it again.”
“Don't give me orders, 'Mom.' Know your place.”
I repeated the piece while grinding my foot into Yuseoha’s head. I wanted to say things like, ‘Thank you,’ ‘I appreciate it,’ or ‘I’ll try again,’ but I hope no one misunderstands—I was simply sacrificing myself to Yuseoha’s total pervert sexual tastes.
“You’re just an inferior species; you can't even teach well. What's the point of your existence? Huh? Mom! Teach me properly!”
“Y-Yes...! P-Please... try again... I-I think there's too much tension in your shoulders...”
Since I felt a definite difference whenever I followed Yuseoha’s instructions, I had no choice but to do as my pink slut mom desired.
Since it was "special training" for a competition, my actual mom gave me permission to eat, sleep, and live at Yuseoha’s place without much thought. It seemed all that talk about wanting to marry her son and make babies was just bullshit after all.
I loved you, Ame Cal Degrain.
Anyway, living at Yuseoha’s house wasn't difficult.
“Sniff, sniff… Inhale… Haaa…”
“Don't sniff me, you perverted Mom! You’re getting horny again from smelling your son, aren't you? You’re trash!”
“I-I’m sorry!”
That was a typical morning.
“You have to… wash your dick… thoroughly.”
“Aren't you touching it for too long?”
“W-Well… I’ll just wash it a little more.”
That was her usual trickery in the bathroom.
“I said I want sausages next! Feed me properly! Do I have to tell you everything I want to eat? Are you really a mom? You’re useless!”
“I-I’m sorry… P-Please… e-eat up…”
That was her feeding me under the guise of "meal service."
“I want to go diving on the turtle today! Cast that breathing magic on me like last time!”
“W-What about practice…?”
“I’ll do it later!”
That was a short break.
“C-Could you please practice…? I-I really think the grand prize is possible, so…”
“Ugh…! You’re really annoying, seriously. Fine, I’ll practice.”
“T-Then I’ll get ready right away.”
“Where’s my thank you?”
“…? T-Thank you?”
“Yeah. You should be grateful I’m practicing.”
That was the time spent steeling my heart for violin practice.
“This part isn't right! Teach me properly! If you’re incompetent, at least put in some effort! Yuseoha!”
“M-Mom will do better… There… feel like you’re putting in a bit more strength… Yes, like that…”
That was violin practice.
“I-I prepared a dish today…”
“It’s just going to be some weird seafood again! Order pizza! I want fried chicken!”
“I-It’s good for your health… It’s really good for men!”
“I’m going home.”
“I-I was wrong!”
That was lunch.
“Please practice. I beg of you…”
“Hmm, a naked dogeza. You’re prepared, I see. Fine. I’ll practice. Come here and stick your butt out. Every time I make a mistake, you get a slap, okay?”
“Yesss~!”
That was violin practice.
“In parts that are humanly impossible, use mana… If you do it like this, the notes will flow beautifully. Want to try?”
“No!”
“N-No… try it first and then say no…”
“I said no! Just give me your butt!”
“Y-Yes!”
That was violin practice.
“You have to kill your emotions. Expressing emotion is for live performances. This is a competition. You have to fit the set scoring criteria. Rather than showing off technique, feel like you’re matching the technique…”
“Speak in a human language!”
“Just… memorize it the way I tell you… and play.”
“Good, well done. I’ll put a leash on you for our night walk!”
“T-Thank you…!”
That was violin practice.
“For dinner tonight, I’ll make a home-cooked meal…”
“Don't talk nonsense when you can't even cook. Just order something!”
“…Yes.”
That was dinner time.
“I’m sleepy! Hurry up and move! How long are you going to drag out this walk, doggy Mom? Crawl properly!”
“Woof! Woof! Woof!”
That was the night walk.
“Don't cling to me! Why are you rubbing against me when you don't even have breasts?!”
“W-Well… so you can sleep well…”
“Stop talking nonsense and just sing a lullaby. I’m going to sleep.”
“Y-Yes… Rock-a-bye… baby…”
That was bedtime.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened.
It seemed Yuseoha had taken the liberty of registering me for the competition before vacation started, and after a week of practice, I headed out to compete.
“Why are we starting straight from the finals?”
“I wrote a recommendation letter.”
For a perverted mom with no breasts, she seemed to have influence in strange places. The pink slut, who usually stayed home and had a "voice charm" concept, was actually useful for once.
“Can I really win an award? We played around all the time.”
“Eight hours a day… is a lot of practice.”
As someone who remembered the "10 to 10" schedule at foreign language high school prep academies—where I studied for 12 hours a day during elementary school vacations—it didn't feel like I’d worked that hard. But Yuseoha seemed very satisfied.
For reference, the kids in the science or international high school tracks did "8 to 12."
I brushed off Yuseoha, who wanted to do some last-minute tuning since my turn was toward the end, and sat in the audience to see the level of the other kids.
“Entry number 1, student Ko Jin-ah.”
A girl with glasses who looked like she’d get bullied at school gave a polite bow and began playing the violin. It wasn't bad, but I didn't think it was particularly good either.
—She’s pretty good.
—She’s one of the kids who made it through the preliminaries without a recommendation.
The whispering adults were giving her favorable reviews.
“Entry number 2, Aikawa Shiho.”
A girl who walked out with a stiff, military-like gait bowed deeply and picked up her violin. It was a bit of a mess. Even to my ears, her pitch broke two or three times.
I’d had high expectations for a competition, but I was a bit disappointed.
“They’re young, and the kids and parents who are truly serious don't come to competitions like this.”
Since this was a competition for little kids where my age was the cutoff, winning didn't mean much. The real talents didn't show up; they refined their skills further to enter higher-level competitions.
“…I have talent, so couldn't I compete there too?”
“You have no talent.”
Yuseoha was arrogantly belittling my talent again.
“…I-I’m sorry.”
“So, what are the chances of me winning an award if I go up against the older girls and boys?”
“Maybe… a bronze medal… with enough effort…”
My interest cooled instantly.
“So, you’re saying this is the only competition where I can pretend to be a violin genius?”
Yuseoha’s hot pink eyes shifted slightly.
“Well done. I love playing the genius. My mom knows me well. If I win the grand prize today, I’ll give you whatever reward you want!”
“T-Then… the f-final tuning…!”
Yuseoha whispered very softly to me.
“Entry number 31, ‘Master’ Jeong Yong-hwan!”
The announcer sister put strength into her voice as if emphasizing that I was male. The drowsy-looking judges snapped their heads up.
“I look forward to your kind evaluation.”
Gracefully. I spoke to the judges with a slightly shy face that would earn full marks for a male in this world, yet with clear diction.
I liked the way everyone looked at me with interest. They were probably expecting the birth of a handsome violinist, but I only felt sorry because I planned to take the grand prize and run.
I could see Yuseoha filming me with a camcorder. Other kids might feel like their hearts were exploding or suffer from stage fright on a stage like this, but I was different.
Heart: Really?
Shut up. I’m consciously trying not to be nervous right now.
I gripped the violin and rested my chin gently on the chinrest. I closed my eyes and brought the bow to the strings. A song I could play with my eyes closed, hands that could find the correct positions even without the violin, and customized techniques that had become habit.
It was time for my efforts to burst into full bloom.
Even if it was a glory that would last only for this brief, fleeting moment.
***
Male violinists were seen from time to time. Playing an instrument was delicate work and considered a high-class hobby, so it was the only industry where the ratio of men remained in the double digits compared to other professions.
“There are only four boys this year.”
“...It’s hopeless, hopeless. The number of boys is dwindling, and they have no star power. Maybe it’s time I retired as a judge.”
The fact that the male birth rate was hitting rock bottom was one problem, but the biggest issue was the broadcast-like nonsense from those entertainer punks who came over from the colonies.
Instead of dreaming of becoming professionals, when they reached the door to professional-level skill, they didn't even try to climb the stairs with bone-breaking effort.
Glory was where true value lay, yet the current generation only thought about sucking up the dirty money of those common colonial folks.
The government or the planet should regulate such things. The current state of affairs, where men did personal broadcasts, stripping slightly and showing off plenty of skin just to suck up money, was nauseating.
It wasn't just because of that one music-broadcast male whore who just shook his ass and said thanks after Bartholomew had sent him a full month’s salary of an average office worker.
Really.
Anyway, the children’s skills were still mediocre. Bartholomew, who occasionally came to judge in hopes of finding an uncut gem, could only twirl his pen and hope the tedious time would pass.
He heard there was a kid who received a recommendation from that Yuseoha fellow, but for the sake of fairness, it wasn't marked here.
While passing the time in boredom, he saw a child who caught his eye walk onto the stage and couldn't help but marvel.
Even before considering skill, his appearance was unbelievable. Was he an elf? No, seeing as his ears weren't pointed, perhaps he was a half-blood.
“I look forward to your kind evaluation.”
A pleasant, high-pitched voice that sounded like a nightingale. It was a beautiful voice that would make one feel uncontrollable rage if it ever broke during puberty. Unlike the other children who were trembling with nerves, he showed a hint of composure.
Either he hadn't prepared at all, or his preparation was absolutely perfect. It was one of the two.
The way he held the violin, slowly rested his chin, and took a deep breath. In that moment, Bartholomew could immediately tell who the child Yuseoha had recommended was.
Without even giving him time to admire the boy’s appearance.
The performance began immediately.