Like a Rolling Stone
The performance ended like a rolling stone. Even though the guitar had fallen silent, the audience refused to observe proper etiquette. It meant not a single round of applause could be heard.
When they were calling me rude earlier…
I glanced up at the crowd. The spectators who were witnessing the Queen for the first time stared at me with thoroughly stunned expressions. Even the middle-aged man who had picked a fight with me looked the same.
When I gazed at him in disbelief, he must have felt the stare. He cleared his throat with a loud ahem and suddenly bellowed.
“Well, you play decently… but it’s only decent! It’s not pleasant to listen to! Something as noisy as that song can’t compare to traditional classical music……”
I left the middle-aged man to his renewed praise of classical music and approached the man who had lent me the guitar. He stared at the instrument I offered back with eyes full of disbelief, then accepted it with careful hands.
“……I will treasure this as a lifelong heirloom.”
“Pardon?”
“Just how did you create a piece like that… The melody was something I could never have imagined.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Could I ever play music like that?”
Hearing his question, I gave a quiet nod. Could he play rock? Of course he could.
“Absolutely.”
As much as he wanted. Rock was open to anyone.
After returning to the laboratory, I realized my assumption had been wrong. Queen’s song was indeed a masterpiece that had once set Earth ablaze, yet the heat I felt couldn’t be explained by the music alone.
No rock… What kind of nonsense is this?
Rock. The genre known as Rock ‘n’ Roll could be summed up in a single word: resistance.
Resistance against unreasonable oppression. Resistance against the tide of the era. Resistance against generational conflict. Resistance against racial discrimination.
Rock ‘n’ Roll was the act of resisting the external pressures that sought to crush you. That was rock. And naturally, this world had no rock.
Who would bother singing when they can resist? They’d just become villains.
It was a world where nearly everyone was born with superpowers. When the average ability surpassed the power of a handgun, and some espers could rival tanks or fighter jets, it was difficult to imagine them choosing to sing upon facing oppression.
If I had a tank, why would I sing? I’d simply blow the opponent’s head off with the main cannon and be done with it.
Thus, those talented enough to create an entire genre mostly used their gifts for villainy instead. Rather than voicing their discontent, they took direct action.
This is a problem.
In other words, without realizing it, I had scattered the seeds of rock across this world. And I had done so in front of people overflowing with artistic passion. I had dumped seeds, complete with fertilizer, onto soil that would burst into bloom from even the tiniest hint of inspiration.
I pondered how this ripple might spread, but soon stopped thinking about it. The seeds had already been sown. Fretting over them alone wouldn’t yield any grand solution.
The most a person who had lit a fuse on a powder keg could do was either flee as far as possible or shout at the top of their lungs that a fire had started and gather the crowd.
I chose the former. That is to say, even as the internet and society at large began heating up with rock, I deliberately turned a blind eye and ignored it.
The daily life of an evil scientist was incredibly monotonous. I commuted to work, shut myself in the lab, and pursued whatever research caught my fancy. Once that was finished, I would take on requests from fellow executives of the same evil organization or from my subordinate minions and study those. When even that ended, there was truly nothing left to do. I killed time watching movies or dramas, and when boredom struck, I devoured manga and anime as well.
I never bothered leaving the evil organization’s headquarters. The outside world was far too dangerous. What was the point of venturing out alone only to end up in some miserable state?
Because of that, the events that occurred were always similar, and the relationships I formed were likewise limited.
> Um… Scientist, sir? A woman claiming to be your lover is here to see you……
“……Who?”
Exactly. I had no time to date anyone outside, nor had I ever done so. The woman currently in the lobby claiming to be my lover was, with one hundred percent certainty, a fraud.
I decided to entertain the fraud anyway. I didn’t want to miss the special little incident blooming amid my idyllic daily routine. However, the moment I laid eyes on the actual con artist, my expectations plummeted.
“Milkah. What brings you here?”
“……I honestly didn’t think you’d actually let me in.”
“Well, I was curious who would pull such a prank.”
I gazed steadily at Milkah, who had come pretending to be my lover. They would have performed a full body scan and background check before allowing her upstairs, so I had no particular reason to be wary of her. If she possessed any dangerous superpower, she never would have made it this far.
Ah, and in the first place, she wouldn’t have been beaten by ordinary grunts and forced to abandon her hero career. As I smiled wryly at the thought, Milkah tilted her head as if asking what was so funny.
“What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing in particular. So how did you know I was here?”
“It was on the homepage.”
“……The homepage.”
“Yes. It said everything was listed there.”
Come to think of it, I supposed I had mentioned something like that. The homepage contained the executives’ personal details and career histories, so there was no need to feel intimidated. I simply hadn’t expected her to come straight here after reading it.
At any rate, now that I knew how she had found me, it was time to ask why she had come. Milkah, who had been sipping milk tea, carefully opened her mouth in response to my question.
“I have a favor to ask.”
“A favor. I wasn’t aware we were close enough for that.”
“Then we can become close. After all, I’m your lover, Scientist.”
Milkah spoke with mischievous charm. It was a joke that since she had arrived under the guise of my lover, she might as well act the part. I let out a dumbfounded laugh and shrugged, signaling her to continue.
“All right, honey. What is it?”
“……You’re surprisingly witty.”
“Who started it?”
“True. Then I’ll speak plainly. ……Please teach me music.”
“Music, you say.”
I tilted my head in genuine puzzlement. Who was this woman? A prodigy of the Pocato family. A celebrated violinist of high renown. She was hardly the type who needed to learn from anyone at this point. She had already reached the realm where she must forge her own path.
So why was she asking me—of all people—to teach her music when I couldn’t even play the violin?
“I don’t know how to play the violin.”
“It’s not the violin. ……It’s the guitar.”
“The guitar?”
“Yes. On the day of my performance, I heard you playing it right in front of the stage, Scientist.”
“That wasn’t anywhere near professional skill. How embarrassing.”
Since it was merely a hobby-level performance, I gave an awkward laugh. Milkah’s eyes flashed as though she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Embarrassing? It was a magnificent performance!”
“Thank you.”
“……Ahem. Anyway. That performance. The heat I had never once encountered in my life. The sense of freedom contained within it. I came here because I want to learn that.”
Watching Milkah bow her head and earnestly ask to be taught about rock, I scratched my cheek with a troubled expression. It was true that rock and rock ‘n’ roll had been born from exactly that spirit. However, if she asked whether I myself possessed such an ideology, I could only answer no.
All I could do was play the songs created long ago exactly as they were. Interpreting the longing for resistance and freedom within them was entirely her responsibility. It wasn’t something that could be taught even if I tried.
When I quietly shook my head, she hung hers in disappointment.
“But… I finally found something I truly want to do……”
“You can still do it. You’ll learn well even without me teaching you.”
“……That would be too late. I want to play well right now.”
“You’re a performer yourself, Milkah, so you should understand. That’s impossible. Performance skill is determined by the daily effort accumulated over time, not by who your teacher happens to be.”
“That’s exactly why it’s too late……”
With a trembling voice, Milkah laid bare her true feelings. She wanted to be the first, even if she couldn’t be the best. She had sensed the possibility in my performance—the possibility of leaving her name in history. She needed to acquire the skill to perform immediately and show it to the world. If she started building her technique now, it would be far, far too late. By then others would have already interpreted my music, revealed it to the world, and she would never be able to become the first—a truly special existence.
Listening to her, I finally understood the massive inferiority complex that resided in Milkah’s heart. She wanted to become a special person. And she wanted to do it entirely through her own power.
Some might say her current position was already special enough… but to a genius who had been artificially created, those words probably rang hollow.
After hearing her out, I nodded as if I more or less understood and rose from my seat.
“—Milkah. Do you truly wish to become a special person?”
“Yes? Y-yes……”
“Are you willing to give up anything to achieve that?”
“Anything… Yes! I can give up anything!”
“Even if it means you can never play the violin again for the rest of your life?”
At those words, Milkah froze for a moment. But the hesitation lasted only a second. True to her youth, she answered without wavering.
“Yes! Even if I can never play the violin again for the rest of my life—!”
“—You said it yourself.”
“……Pardon?”
Leaving Milkah tilting her head in confusion, I walked to a corner of the lab, picked up a syringe, and returned.
“Congratulations, Milkah. Starting today, you will become a special person.”
“E-eh— W-wait a second?”
Grabbing the panicking girl, I injected the drug into her arm.