026 – The Song Demon #1
“E&S” is a three-member band.
The first “E” in “E&S” is Euryol, who handles main vocals and lyre. Back when she was alive, she was a nymph known as Eurydice. She was famous as the lover of Orpheus, that legendary musician and hero. Here in the Soul Society, she’s a top celebrity who made it big purely on her talent and passion.
Right now, she had short-cropped blue hair, an oversized shirt, jeans, and magical conch shells on her ears like headphones.
“……”
She either didn’t notice I’d entered the office or just didn’t care, quietly listening to her music. Every now and then, she’d even hum along.
It wasn’t so much that she was bad with people—she just seemed utterly uninterested. Hipster. I didn’t know the exact meaning or origin of the word, but Euryol struck me as one. A wildly successful one, at that.
Next up were the sirens handling the “S” in “E&S”: Rilke and Carnoy. As sirens, they were sea nymphs.
“I’m Rilke, a nymph of the seawater. I play bass. Back when I was alive, they called me a siren—though I’m not sure if I was famous up on Earth.”
Rilke was a woman with striking honey-blonde hair. Her ears were short and pointed, a hallmark of nymphs in the Greek worldview. She was as tall as me, and her proportions were impressive all around—she radiated pure adulthood.
“This Carnoy is the ‘Massive Beating’ one…!”
Beside her was the drummer, Carnoy. With her long orange hair and petite, girlish build, she reminded me of Melinoë. Of course, looks could be deceiving—she had to be at least a few hundred years old, so underestimating her would be a mistake.
“Is Carnoy a siren like you, Ms. Rilke?”
“…No, she’s just a field nymph.”
“This is my drum, Tung-Tung…!”
Carnoy introduced her drum. Its surface was covered in crude crayon drawings that looked like someone’s faces.
“What’s this?”
Rather than the drummer herself, the bassist Rilke answered my question.
“That’s Orpheus. ‘E&S’ was formed to take him down. We all hated the guy so much, we bonded fast.”
Huhu-hu-hu.
Rilke’s yellow eyes gleamed. Sure, main vocalist Eurydice made sense, but even the sirens had deep ties to Orpheus. Back when he sailed on the Argo with the heroes, they’d encountered the sirens in the treacherous straits—seductive singers who lured sailors to their deaths. Mist-shrouded coasts where even the strongest-willed heroes thrashed to plunge into the sea… until Orpheus sang and overpowered their voices.
“I haven’t slept easy since that day. I thought my singing was unbeatable, but he crushed me completely. So now, I’m just biding my time for a fair rematch on pure skill.”
“This Carnoy doesn’t get what’s going on, but pounding the drums is just fun…! It feels good, and you make bank…!”
Dung-dung-dung-dung.
Carnoy hammered away at her drums. Ah, so that’s why she’s “Massive Beating” Carnoy.
“You’ve got some weird nymphs over there too.”
The mature bassist eyed the newbie behind me with interest. But it was short-lived. Soon, Rilke and Melinoë approached each other and pressed their foreheads together. What the hell?
As I wondered, Arachne—who’d been sipping coffee from her personal tumbler—spoke up.
“Oh, haven’t seen that in ages. Nymphs greet each other like that the first time they meet. Forehead-to-forehead lets them check health, evolution status, and all that.”
What a bizarre trait. Evolution status, though…
Do nymphs evolve, then?
Like Digimon or Pokémon? I felt like I’d heard something like that before.
“I’ve seen tons of nymphs, but this one’s the strangest yet. Never heard of a black-haired nymph… and her constitution seems special too…”
Rilke marveled. Melinoë, as if she’d been waiting, planted her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest.
“This Melinoë is a miraculous business nymph destined for the CEO seat one day…! Sure, I’m just a ditch-water nymph now… but I dream of evolving into a yokai nymph…!”
Evolution? Yokai? I couldn’t keep up. All that Greek mythology I’d crammed for my master’s felt like it was crumpling up.
Still, Melinoë was thrilled.
“Seeing such big nymphs makes me happy…! This Melinoë wants to grow big too…! I’m dying to know how to get as huge as you or Euryol…!”
She stood on tiptoe. Was her small stature a complex?
Rilke let out a pfft.
“I was that tiny once too. Reminds me of when I was desperate to grow up. Wonder why I wanted it so bad… Adulthood’s nothing special.”
Huhu-hu-hu-hu-hu-hu.
Her face was bright, but something dark lingered in her eyes.
Anyway, I’d come here for a collaboration.
Personally, nymphs are tough to like.
Considering I ended up in this Happy World because of my nymph thesis, they felt like landmines or traps. Better wrap this up quick and bail.
“I wanted to talk about this recording project. But first, please accept this commemorative gift from our side.”
I slid out the special honey candy they loved. It came in a fancy box, and the moment Carnoy the drummer saw it, her eyes sparkled.
“This Carnoy loves special honey candy…! Doesn’t get old no matter how much I eat…! Pounding drums gets me more candy—perfect…!”
Wadadadada.
She shoved them into her mouth like crazy. Rilke chuckled.
“I was like that as a kid too. Too sweet for me now, though. Did I outgrow sweets when I became an adult… or did I become an adult because I outgrew them…?”
Adults do struggle with candy and chocolate. Blood sugar and all that. Apparently nymphs too.
“This Melinoë dreams of being a mature business nymph…! Zero interest in special honey candy…! Let’s talk work already…!”
At the mention of work, Euryol—still listening to music via her conch shells—approached me and scoffed.
“Deputy Manager Jo, if it’s my opinion, the producer already passed it along. Weird for an outsider like you to meddle in our recording. Staff should handle that themselves.”
“E-Euryol!”
Arachne startled. Probably thought it was rude.
“Arachne, I won’t bow to power or money. I sing for freedom. Liberation—that’s why I sing.”
“Fair enough. Your point’s valid. Then we’ll have our staff sing the vocals. But could you at least collaborate on the backing?”
Euryol’s stubbornness was a boon for me. Everyone expected her polished vocals. If I served up our staff’s amateur warbles instead? The higher the expectations, the bigger the letdown.
One tiny snag, though: Crowzer, whom I’d brought today, was actually an amazing singer. But current Crowzer? Total clown. Couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. Pity, but facts were facts.
He probably won’t help anyway.
I sensed he’d hate facing Euryol. No chance he’d butt in.
I’ll just record something average and safe.
Perfect variable control. I nodded, satisfied.
“Let’s prep and start recording in about thirty minutes.”
###
The man wasn’t thrilled about this entertainment agency gig. His stomach churned like he’d eaten something heavy for breakfast.
Hyeok, sirens!
And women with whom he shared bad blood infested the place. As sea nymph sirens roamed the halls, the man—Crowzer, once Orpheus—pulled grotesque faces on purpose. If they recognized him, all hell would break loose.
But it backfired.
A woman clutching a bass guitar asked, “Hey, you. Why the suspicious face? No outsiders allowed in the office.”
“Ahem, I’m staff too. Crowzer, newbie from Penalty Execution Team 1.”
“Oh… have we met? You seem kinda familiar…”
“Absolutely not!”
Thump, thump.
His heart raced. Then, someone appeared behind Rilke—a woman with striking short bobbed hair.
“Rilke, what’re you doing? Get to the recording studio.”
“Ah, Euryol.”
Euryol—Eurydice’s pre-evolution childhood name! Of all people, the one he least wanted to see, right there in the inescapable hallway.
Despair hit the man. He didn’t want his pathetic self exposed to his thriving ex.
I didn’t even lotion up today!
If she recognized him, nothing could be sadder. But secretly, he hoped.
That thread of fate, long as a spider’s web, led us here. Maybe we can start over… like star-crossed lovers reuniting across time and space…
Their eyes met. Euryol frowned.
“Who’re you? Oh, the Happy World guy here to record? The one Deputy Manager Jo brought?”
She didn’t recognize him. Even with a slight change in looks, after vowing eternity together.
Relief? Maybe. But the bitterness stung.
“I’m not here to record… Though I am a singer… Ahem. Back in the day, I was kinda famous…”
Fear of recognition mixed with desperate hoping. Human hearts were messy.
But Euryol snapped.
“You, a singer? Ugh, the type who thinks flashy looks make you cool. Don’t disrespect music. Guys like you get us lumped in as clowns.”
“Wha…”
Just some pale makeup and long hair. Not recognizing him was one thing—insulting him?
Euryol, was your love that shallow!?
He fumed.
You chased me everywhere back then! Now that you’re successful, I’m a stranger!? You fame-chasing harlot…!
Even in Happy World’s den of crooks, living in the cheapest, worst-security multi-household had soured him rotten.
What even is “E&S”? Hipster posers riding idol waves! Money? Was cash and fame that great!?
No trace of the hero’s old grace remained. His heart, stained by back rent, cacti, warped ambition, failed love, and inferiority—right then—
“Your flashy visual band isn’t music—it’s just entertainer showbiz. Doubt you have real musical depth anyway.”
—he was reborn a true demon of Happy World.
“Ha? Excuse me, what did you just—”
“I’ll show you who’s really disrespecting music!”