Art is a Scientist's Refinement
The daily routine of a conglomerate chairman was truly relentless. With every blink of an eye, documents piled up, and one had to instantly judge whether their contents aligned with the times or benefited the company.
Hundreds of documents passed under her gaze each day, and sometimes she even had to recall the details of papers she had seen a year or two earlier.
She could not delegate this work to secretaries or subordinates. The documents that reached the chairman had already been filtered multiple times; they were matters only she could approve, things only she needed to know.
Amid such ceaselessly busy days, Regalia took a brief respite and fiddled with the gift her subordinate had sent.
This is the self-defense gadget the scientist made.
At a glance it looked like an ordinary watch, but the scientist had claimed it contained a barrier capable of blocking even a decent villain’s esper ability with a single strike, along with a function to subdue such a villain in one blow.
Her knowledge and common sense could not fathom how such functions had been crammed into this tiny watch… yet the scientist routinely defied common sense, so she let it pass without further thought.
The design was a little lacking, but Regalia slipped the watch onto her wrist, smiled faintly, and returned to her paperwork.
“Madam Chairman? A letter has arrived.”
“Ah… Has that season already come around?”
Regalia, still working, checked the letter at her secretary’s words. It was an invitation.
A party where the conglomerates representing each city gathered. An invitation to the Royal Party—the event she disliked most.
After reading the date, venue, and precautions, Regalia frowned. A new clause that had never appeared before now sat at the very bottom.
…Attend with a partner?
The line made her sigh, yet she could not ignore it. Failing to attend such an event would mean falling behind the times. No matter how powerful Evils Enterprise was, openly antagonizing the other conglomerates was unwise.
In the end, Regalia found herself pondering whom to bring. The problem was that there was no suitable candidate.
“A party?”
“Yes. A party.”
She said there would be a gathering for the upper class—a party where the corporate tycoons representing each city met to exchange pleasantries, a world that existed solely for them.
Having only ever encountered such parties in movies or dramas back on Earth, I let out an admiring exclamation. Once again I was reminded that the girl before me, who did not look the part, was one of the tycoons who held the world’s economy in her grasp.
“Scientist. You will be my partner.”
“Me? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do at a party.”
“That’s fine. I’ll teach you everything. You are my most trusted subordinate, after all.”
At my boss’s words, I could not hide my bewilderment. Partner? Me?
I might have graduated from university and possessed the refinement of a civilized person, but I was hardly qualified to act as a conglomerate chairman’s partner. Even if I had studied the subject, playing the role of a tycoon’s escort would have been beyond me.
Just as no amount of diligent study about medieval nobility could prepare a modern person to actually become one, all I knew about tycoon partners came from secondhand television knowledge.
Yet the next words from my boss left me no room to refuse.
“If not you, I was thinking of asking Galrm or Aile…”
“I’ll go.”
The moment I heard the other candidates were either a muscle-bound beast or a gloomy, withdrawn shut-in who would be crushed and drained dry among the tycoons, I immediately accepted the role.
Better that I go and cause trouble than let those two attend and create a mess I could never clean up afterward.
Look at the talent pool in a villain organization… How is it possible there’s not a single person fit to bring to a party?
Then again, it would be stranger if a villain organization actually had someone suited for high-society gatherings. Villains were, by definition, criminals, losers, dropouts, and trash.
If someone possessed the refinement to mingle with the upper class, they would never have become a villain in the first place.
“Is there anything I need to prepare?”
“Hmm. Scientist, do you own a tuxedo?”
“I have a few, but…”
“No, not off-the-rack. I meant a custom-tailored suit… This won’t do. Kitty?”
“Yes, Young Lady.”
Snapping her fingers to summon her secretary, Regalia pointed at me like a judge pronouncing sentence.
“Take him.”
“Understood.”
“H-Huh—?”
Dragged away by the secretary without resistance, I was immediately fitted for a custom tuxedo at a high-end shop, then drilled in every etiquette required at an upper-class party: which foods were safe to eat, which were not, the names and backgrounds of every attending chairman, and who could or could not be approached.
An overwhelming amount of information was crammed into my head at once. Even now the names of the chairmen and their relationships with my boss remained hazy. I had always hated memorization…
By the time the cramming finally ended, only one thing remained: the real performance. The day of the Royal Party for the upper class had arrived.
“Move faster!”
“I told you to remove that dish—someone might have an allergy!”
“When are the heroes arriving!?”
A Hotel in A City. Its usual motto was to maintain an air of composure and professionalism at all times, yet today the staff were frantic.
Anyone who knew the identities of the guests scheduled to visit would have reacted exactly the same way.
“The chairmen are coming. We must not disappoint them!”
“This is our chance to show that A Hotel stands on a different level from the others!”
The Royal Party, where the greatest tycoons of each city gathered, was to be held at A Hotel today.
Each guest was a figure one might only see on television; the combined wealth of those invited was so vast that the old joke about buying half the world no longer sounded like a joke at all.
Naturally, the mere hotel staff could not help but feel tense. Another vehicle pulled up at the entrance.
“Hmm. So this is the hotel…”
“Do you have unpleasant memories here?”
“No, the hotel itself is fine. It’s just that the owner has… rather peculiar tastes.”
Stepping out of the car, Regalia entered the hotel with Eight as her escort. A staff member waiting at the entrance rushed over and bowed deeply.
“Welcome. I am Begle, and I will be attending to you today. Miss Regalia? I see you’ve come with your daughter. The banquet hall is this way.”
“No, Miss Regalia is this way. I’m the partner.”
“P-Pardon?”
The hotelier, having misunderstood their relationship, stared blankly between Eight and Regalia. Eight nodded in understanding at the man’s expression.
Regalia was a teenage girl; she hardly looked like the head of a major corporation. It was only natural for the staff to assume Eight was the chairman and Regalia his daughter.
Moreover, because of the unique circumstance of a teenager running an entire conglomerate, Regalia rarely showed her face or identity in public. A hotelier who only knew the name “Regalia” could easily mix them up.
That did not mean the mistake would be forgiven.
“I-I’m terribly sorry—!”
Realizing his error, the hotelier bowed even lower in apology. Eight glanced at his boss as if to ask what she would do. Regalia, having no time to waste on such matters, ignored the man and walked inside.
As though he had overheard the previous exchange, a different staff member immediately took over and guided them to the banquet hall. Perhaps because of the earlier mistake, the new attendant moved with extreme caution.
Treated more like hazardous materials than honored guests, they arrived at the banquet hall. The eyes of those already waiting turned toward them all at once. Eight felt a quiet admiration.
Whoa. I can almost feel killing intent…
So these were the giants who moved the world. Their gazes carried the same oppressive weight he had once felt from Regalia when he first arrived in this world.
Yet none of them matched the sheer majesty he had sensed from Regalia.
Regalia radiated overwhelming pressure, as if determined to make her identity unmistakably clear. The aura of the young giant who had led a major corporation without issue at such a tender age instantly filled the hall.
Only then did the others withdraw their own auras and slowly approach.
“It’s been a while, Miss Regalia.”
“Chairman Eden. It has indeed.”
“How is the company faring?”
Discarding the old-fashioned speech she usually used as the boss of a villain organization, Regalia greeted the newcomers in a tone appropriate for her age.
The sight felt strangely unfamiliar, yet Eight could not simply stand there watching her face. As the conversation between the two chairmen deepened, the topics became utterly incomprehensible to him.
They spoke of how to manipulate this year’s economy, of controlling grain exports to neighboring countries for certain concessions…
Leaving Regalia to handle the conversation, Eight naturally drifted toward the “underlings”—the partners brought by the other chairmen. Aside from Regalia’s unusual choice, the other tycoons had brought their own heirs, their direct children. The heirs, already well acquainted, chatted without the slightest awkwardness.
“—I invested in a semiconductor company this time—”
“Ah, forget that. What about investing in AI? This time, strong artificial intelligence…”
“That’s already way too bubbly. The forecast says it won’t rise any higher—”
Having escaped the tiger only to find a lion, Eight decided the heirs were indeed having heir-like conversations and simply began picking at the hors d’oeuvres.
Perhaps his solitary snacking looked pitiful, for a woman in a dress sidled up to him.
“You seem bored.”
“Huh? No, not really.”
“Hehe. Liar. It’s written all over your face.”
The woman, wearing a dress that boldly revealed her cleavage, naturally closed the distance until she was pressed against Eight’s side. Her exposed décolletage was on full display, and the heat of her skin brushed against his tuxedo.
Leaning her weight against him, she spoke.
“I’m Lize. What’s your name?”
“Raemon.”
“Raemon… That’s a lovely name.”
When Eight gave the alias he usually used, Lize repeated it several times, savoring the sound. Watching her, Eight felt a chill run down his spine.
“We look about the same age. Why don’t we drop the formalities?”
“I’d rather not.”
Recognizing the woman who sought to breach even psychological barriers, Eight recalled her name from the materials he had read days earlier. She was the heir to Baphomet Enterprise, the largest company in B City. Her reason for approaching him was obvious.
Regalia, who had no living relatives, had suddenly brought an adult man; naturally, people were curious about his identity. They would want to know whether he was the teenage chairman’s lolita-complex lover or the successor being groomed to run the company.
Unfortunately, he was neither. He was an executive of the villain organization Regalia led—the scientist. Still, he could hardly tell that to someone outside the organization. Eight looked around for a way to express who he was.
—Found it.
Spotting a grand piano tucked in a corner of the banquet hall, Eight downed the wine in his hand and headed toward it.
Revealing his true identity was not something Regalia would particularly welcome. Yet having come this far, doing nothing while hiding who he was would also be problematic. People could not contain their curiosity—especially those overflowing with power.
It was better to reveal himself before they created unnecessary trouble.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“…Where are you going?”
“You’ll understand if you watch.”
Eight walked straight to the piano. With no performer present yet, he sat before the empty instrument, lifted the lid, and began loosening his fingers.
Do-re-mi. The notes that rang out drew every gaze in the room. At the same time, the liberal-arts classes he had been forced to take in university resurfaced in his mind. Countless scores he had memorized until they became second nature swam through his thoughts.
There’s no Mozart or Beethoven in this world.
That decided his selection. A genius’s composition that had never appeared here—Mondscheinsonate.
—♪ ♩ ♪ ♪ ♩ ♪ ♪ ♩
The piano music filled the hall. At the clear, refreshing sound, the chairmen who had been conversing all turned their heads at once. The melody was utterly unexpected, yet it struck their ears with flawless harmony.
The captivated chairmen let out exclamations of wonder. Even those who prided themselves on their classical education had never heard this piece before.
The same was true for Regalia.
Scientist!? What on earth is he—!
Seeing Eight suddenly begin playing, Regalia was inwardly aghast. She had only brought him as a partner so he would stay quietly by her side. Why did he keep causing incidents?
She wanted nothing more than to scold him loudly, yet she had no choice but to keep her mouth shut. Displaying strong emotion in front of so many watchful eyes would only expose her weaknesses.
And above all—the performance now flowing through the hall was far too sweet to interrupt.
“…Beautiful.”
Eden, who had been speaking with Regalia, let out a sigh of admiration. He looked at her enviously and murmured,
“I thought you’d brought a young man because he was your lover… but he’s an artist friend, isn’t he?”
“…I wanted to keep it hidden.”
“I understand. I would have wanted to hide him too. A piece like this… makes you want to keep it all to yourself.”
Eden expressed his gratitude to Regalia for sharing the music. And in that moment, he simply listened.
The chairmen, who were always thinking of something and never at ease, now lost themselves entirely in the melody created by Eight’s fingers.