Chapter 67
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 67
Chapter Title: Play Script (1)
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Elise arrived at the meeting place. It was a small theater she'd rented for the next two weeks. They planned to rehearse the script here and perform the play on the festival day two weeks from now, but...
Before going in, she pressed her ear to the door.
—This assignment was total chaos. I mean, who the hell smashes up all the desks?
—Right? But doesn't it feel like it weeded people out better? The ones who couldn't handle Mana Body couldn't stand the cold and dropped out right away. I lasted 23 hours, though.
23 hours.
For reference, Elise's record was under 15.
A wild urge to turn tail and run surged through her, but she desperately suppressed it and knocked. Knock knock.
—Oh. Must be Elise.
"Haa..."
She took a deep breath and opened the door.
All eyes from the six people she'd personally recruited turned to her inside the theater. She distrusted every bit of intent in their gazes, but she spoke calmly anyway.
"Is everyone here?"
"Yeah. All six of us are."
Wendy answered. As she spoke, her lips twitched slightly.
Why is she doing that? It looked like she was sneering.
Elise walked over with heavy steps and sat in a chair.
"Shall we start?"
She said it as businesslike as possible.
She planned to limit today's topic to official matters only. No talk of the College Board or grades, no matter what.
"Hm? Jumping right in? What about that Sion guy?"
Senior James asked. Elise quietly shot back.
"Why bring up that jerk?"
"Well, wasn't he the one writing the script?"
"He was."
As she answered, she pulled seven copies of the script from her Charman bag.
Charman bags were the pinnacle of high-end luxury—artifact handbags so exclusive even nobles couldn't just buy them. The company only sold to buyers with impeccable reputation and prestige.
"Sion Askal said he wanted to do The Minstrel. What do you all think?"
"What? The Minstrel is kinda..."
"...Yeah. The Minstrel feels off."
This was the normal reaction. Properly educated people who studied Latynel responded this way. Among Latynel's 23 plays, The Minstrel had the worst reputation, so they had no choice but to balk.
"He said he'd adapt it himself, but we don't have time to wait. We've only got two weeks until the festival."
Elise handed out the scripts one by one.
"The Cunning King. I adapted it."
A script she'd written herself and even bound in hardcover.
[The Cunning King - Author: Elise]
Stroking the cover, Elise puffed up her shoulders with a modest sense of pride.
"Ah~ The Cunning King? Sounds good."
"Easiest one to perform, too. We're familiar with it."
The Edshilla undergrads chimed in. Miller and Sasha. These two were theater majors aspiring to act, with Latynel as a minor, so they were reliable.
Far more cultured and knowledgeable than Sion Askal.
"Oh, right. We're not performing this in Latynel, are we?"
"No. We'll do the acting in Common Tongue. A few Latynel lines mixed in the dialogue."
The festival play's theme was [Popularizing Latynel] from the start. Performing in an obscure Latynel dialect wouldn't draw the crowd they needed.
"But don't you need staff?"
Undergrad Miller asked.
"I can round up a few. Active industry folks right now."
Endex had allocated 100,000 ren for this festival play. She could ask her mother for help, of course, but she needed the experience of pulling it off alone.
"Great. If any staff want in, send me the list. I'll sort them out."
"No need to pay daily rates. They're—"
"We will. I'll set it at industry average."
With stage props, actor fees, venue rental, and more, it'd be tight, but proper ticket pricing should cover it.
"Then..."
Elise scanned the faces around the table.
No Sion Askal anywhere. So the invitation would naturally fall to her.
Of course, that hadn't been the plan from the start.
Fair competition was what she'd wanted.
This was all that bastard's fault for fixating on some weird play like The Minstrel with his shitty taste.
"Script reading. Let's begin?"
Elise opened the first page of The Cunning King. The paper scent tickled her nose like perfume.
Saturday, 6 p.m., Endex Library senior-exclusive floor.
[First crime scene. Come to Geldo's Alley by 1 a.m. Monday.]
Soliet's message was written on the shared notebook on my desk. Our first outing with the client.
I wrote back.
[Got it.]
Nothing after that.
She's acting all awkward.
I hesitated, then added a line.
[You okay?]
[I'm fine. It was my mistake to trust you. You're a betrayer.]
Soliet replied instantly, like she'd been waiting.
[What? You betrayed Gerkken too.]
[Mine was a betrayal planned from the start. Yours...]
The scrawled words cut off roughly, then continued in a slightly looser script.
Still impeccably noble handwriting.
[Never mind. Come to Geldo's Alley by 1 a.m. No personal talk in this shared notebook.]
She's pissed anyway. I tucked the notebook into my uniform's inner pocket.
I stared at the blank notebook—the real reason I'd come to the library.
The day College Board ended after a grueling 30 hours, here I was trying to write a script.
"...Ugh. Why is this so unappealing."
But no motivation came.
College Board fatigue? Or because I'd never written a play script before?
[Title: The Minstrel]
Couldn't progress past the title.
Should I just bail now?
This was seriously annoying.
I poked at the innocent notebook and glanced around.
"...?"
Suddenly, the coffee machine caught my eye.
Tucked in a library corner, emanating a faint bean aroma.
Coffee.
Caffeine.
One of the 48 things I'd quit long ago to keep my "get healthy" promise.
"Hmmm..."
But let's think again.
Is caffeine really that bad? As harmful as smokes or drugs?
Nah.
Still, should I be denied the joy and benefits just because I'm a cancer patient?
No way.
Tomorrow comes even if I drink coffee.
Hell, it might focus us on today and lead to a brighter tomorrow...
"Okay."
I shot up. Placed a paper cup under the coffee machine and hit the button.
Glug glug—brown liquid filled it.
Staring blankly, a curiosity bubbled up.
What if I added Perion to this coffee?
Could Perion amplify just the caffeine's "awakening effect"?
If so, it'd be huge for writing.
Why not try?
I drew mana from my dantian.
Whoooosh... Colorless energy gathered in my palm. I infused it into the liquid.
"...Did it work?"
I swirled the cup lightly. The coffee sloshed. Visually unchanged.
"Won't be carcinogenic."
Alkaloids amplified by my mana to awaken the brain and boost metabolism.
Even if carcinogenic, I'm already a cancer patient. Just in case, I took a sip.
Slurp—smacked my lips and waited.
"Nothing."
Disappointing, but amplifying coffee caffeine wouldn't cause miracles. Chasing away sleep would be win enough.
As I set the cup down with such thoughts—
"—?"
My pupils dilated. Heart pounded wildly, passion surging from my brainstem. Like a fireball pouring from my crown.
Awakening.
I rushed back to my seat. Gripped the pen and stared at the notebook.
The blank page under [The Minstrel].
The white sheet turned silver screen, replaying a memory.
The theater Theia Esil practically dragged Gerkken and me to.
Now gone—from before regression.
The scene sharpened; I felt sucked in...
—A minstrel sings stories. Some tragic, some comic. I tell comedies as tragedies, tragedies as comedies.
The actor's lines echoed. Audience breaths audible. Theater dust and air brushed my skin.
I sat in the Edshilla Opera House seats.
Turn left—Theia Esil, absorbed in the play.
Turn right—Gerkken, equally engrossed.
"...What."
I shook my head frantically. Escaped the opera house.
Back in Endex Library.
"Chills."
Past memory so vivid it blurred reality. Overly lifelike immersion.
I nearly drowned in Notebook.
"Hoo..."
I deep-breathed. Calmed, sipped coffee again—but consciously held back focus.
Like lounging on a sofa watching TV: immersion without drowning.
—A minstrel sings stories.
Before my eyes, musical lines and actor expressions played like drama.
I transcribed them straight to the notebook.
"Done..."
Dizzy, I leaned back in the chair. Dropped pen and notebook. About three sips of coffee left. Already 11 p.m.
[The Minstrel]
The script was probably perfect.
I'd melted the entire musical from memory into play form.
"Ugh, wiped."
Body melting, head spinning. Caffeine crash? Overfocus?
I gathered the notebook and stood.
Slosh—
But the door opened first.
Someone came at closing time with study materials: obviously Elise.
"What're you doing?"
"..."
Elise said nothing. Bad complexion. Probably from College Board mid-tier dropout.
She sat anywhere and opened a book. College textbook, as expected.
"Hey. Script's done."
I approached, saying so. Still no reply. I set the script on her textbook-focused desk.
"Read it. Stop sulking."
"Shut that mouth."
Not sulking, huh.
"Anyway, you're the lead, so memorize all the lines."
Her eyes flickered. Lips twitched like she had words, but she just slowly shook her head.
"Yawwwn... I'm out."
Yawning, I headed outside.