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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: FusionX
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Fortunately, or perhaps as expected, the live cafe remained peaceful after Moon Cheon-yeop’s departure.
Kim Seungjun, after a few more attempts at persuasion, left with slumped shoulders.
Eugene sang her heart out on stage after her shift. The customers, though disappointed by Limon’s absence, enjoyed the performance. And Manager Jung, pleased with the booming sales, packed her a bag full of leftover pastries.
Crunch.
“This tastes like weight gain.”
In a dimly lit, deserted park, Eugene sat on a bench, munching on a cookie from Manager Jung and muttering to herself.
“But… it’s delicious.”
Sweet things were good. They lifted her spirits. And after dealing with Moon Cheon-yeop, she needed a mood booster.
‘Such a trivial matter.’
Recalling Moon Cheon-yeop’s threats, Eugene chuckled.
She had traveled the world and met countless people.
Many, like Kim Seungjun and Moon Cheon-yeop, recognized her talent and tried to exploit it. But they all failed.
Generals leading armies, gangsters pointing guns, nobles boasting of their lineage, businessmen talking profits—all of them failed, which was why Eugene remained a wandering musician.
There was no reason for her to care about some nobody like Moon Cheon-yeop and his insignificant guild.
If anything, the lack of Limon’s playing was a far greater source of stress.
“Ugh, I’m frustrated.”
Despite having just finished a long performance, she felt a renewed thirst for music, perhaps triggered by the thought of Limon.
Swallowing the last of the cookie, Eugene reached for her guitar.
Smiling faintly, she thought,
‘If I’m lacking, I’ll just fill it myself.’
In the quiet park, without a proper stage, a microphone, or even a single audience member, Eugene prepared to sing.
Whether anyone listened or not, whether she had a partner to accompany her or not, it didn’t matter. She had always been a wanderer, singing and listening to herself, content in her solitude.
Ding.
“…?”
But after strumming the first chord, Eugene hesitated. Tilting her head, she strummed a few more times.
Ding, deeng, deeding.
“…???”
She repeatedly tuned the guitar and tried different notes, puzzled by the unsatisfactory sound.
“Ah.”
Eugene suddenly gasped, slapping her forehead and sighing.
The problem wasn’t the guitar, it was her.
She finally realized that the sound was off because she was comparing it to Limon’s playing.
“I’m screwed.”
Chuckling dryly, Eugene lay back on the bench. She no longer felt like singing. No matter how frustrated she was, any attempt at playing would inevitably be compared to Limon’s guitar.
“I can’t sing alone anymore.”
Of course, playing and singing were separate. She could just sing. But Eugene didn’t touch the guitar again.
Just as a gourmet accustomed to the finest delicacies wouldn’t eat moldy bread dipped in worm soup, Eugene knew she was addicted to singing with Limon’s fantastic accompaniment.
So she put on her headphones.
Ding, deering.
Familiar melodies filled her ears.
The video of their performance, recorded and shared without permission by a student. Eugene smiled, listening to a track that isolated Limon’s guitar.
Like an addict finding a lost fix, or a traveler discovering an oasis in the desert, the soulful melody washed over her, bringing a comforting pleasure far more exhilarating than singing alone.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have accepted that offer.”
If she hadn’t let Limon borrow her guitar that first time, she wouldn’t be unable to enjoy her own singing now.
“But I don’t regret it.”
Despite losing the ability to enjoy singing alone, the joy of performing with Limon’s accompaniment was far more exhilarating.
Given the choice between simple pleasure and the intoxicating thrill of their combined performance, she would always choose the latter. And her feelings about Limon, who gave her this intoxicating joy, could be summarized in two words.
‘Strange partner.’
Eugene was eccentric, but not stupid. She knew how unusual she was.
A singer who didn’t desire fame and actively avoided making money from her music wasn’t exactly normal.
Indeed, one of the main reasons she had always performed solo was the difficulty of finding a musician who could accommodate her eccentricities.
There were other reasons, but in that respect, Limon was a truly unique partner.
‘Why doesn’t he try to change me?’
During her travels, Eugene occasionally met people who, instead of coveting her talent, simply admired it.
Their reactions were predictable.
Admiration, followed by regret at her “wasted” talent, and finally, anger at her for not pursuing a proper musical career.
Limon was different.
He had no interest in fame or fortune himself, and he had never once tried to impose his ways on her.
Even when she was broke, even when he saw her “squandering” her talent, he never pressured her to make money from her music or to hone her skills.
‘But he still changed me.’
The reason Eugene ignored others’ advice to develop her talent was because she disliked the very idea of being taught how to sing.
Learning something meant being influenced by it. Even if it was about singing better, it still meant being bound by those teachings.
For Eugene, who simply enjoyed singing and had no desire to improve, vocal training felt like adding more shackles to her freedom.
Yet, she agreed to Manager Jung’s training because of Limon.
‘It’s strange to be a partner who can’t keep up with her partner’s playing.’
Eugene, acutely attuned to music, knew that Limon was capable of even more impressive performances, that he was holding back to accommodate her underdeveloped vocals.
That was why she decided to learn, for the first time. Even if it meant sacrificing some of her freedom, even if it meant losing a part of her unique style, she didn’t want to be a burden.
‘Or is that not it?’
Tilting her head, Eugene chuckled.
She knew she wasn’t that considerate. The real reason was simple. She wanted to hear it.
Limon’s true potential unleashed. And her own voice alongside it.
It was a dramatic change of heart for Eugene, who had always prioritized enjoyment over improvement.
‘I don’t understand why Partner says he doesn’t enjoy playing, even with his skill.’
The question, amplified by Limon’s influence on her, lingered. If he didn’t need money or fame, and didn’t even enjoy it, why did he play?
And why did he always accompany her, despite grumbling every time? She couldn’t understand. But his strange behavior sometimes felt familiar.
‘He’s like those old men.’
Eugene recalled the elderly men she used to see in alleyways when she was young.
Basking in the sun, playing chess or instruments, simply passing the time.
Having lived their prime, they reminisced about the past, observing the present rather than actively participating, only occasionally offering unsolicited advice.
Limon reminded her of them, especially the war veterans.
‘Come to think of it, I don’t know anything about Partner.’
It was a shocking thought for someone like Eugene, who usually disregarded everything but her own enjoyment.
For her to be interested in someone was unusual. But her interest in Limon went beyond mere curiosity. She tried to recall what she knew about him.
‘Bird lover, eccentric, and rich…?’
A bird lover who always had a bluebird perched on his head.
An eccentric whose expressions and behavior shifted unpredictably, like he was receiving transmissions from another dimension. And his strangely detached attitude towards money.
Individually, these traits were quirky. Together, they painted a rather bizarre picture.
‘Well, it doesn’t matter. He’s my partner.’
But Eugene dismissed these minor concerns.
Whether Limon was an eccentric or a serial killer, his musical talent was genuine. And for Eugene, that was more than enough to consider him a kindred spirit.
‘I’ll take Partner with me when this is over.’
Eugene made a plan, a grand world tour after her current job ended, filled with performances with Limon.
The possibility of him refusing wasn’t even a consideration. She would make it happen.
“Hum.”
Perhaps it was the excitement of planning a trip, or the music flowing from her headphones, but Eugene hummed contentedly, lost in the melody as she lay on the bench, her arm as a pillow.
“Hey, look what we have here. A girl, all alone.”
“Must be a foreigner who doesn’t know this is our turf.”
“Yeah, haven’t seen Byung-sik or Han-seo around lately, so a stranger wouldn’t know.”
“Whoa, she’s pretty cute.”
Unfortunately, or perhaps inevitably, Eugene’s pleasant mood was interrupted.
“Hey, girl, you speak Korean?”
“Lost, are ya? We can help you find your way.”
“Yeah, yeah, we’re real friendly.”
“Pfft! Friendly, my ass.”
Two men approached, hands in their pockets, swaggering.
From their sloppy clothes and demeanor, to the piercings on their ears and lips, to their leering gazes, they were the epitome of thugs.
But Eugene ignored them, her attention solely on the music and her humming.
“Hey, girl! You deaf?”
Noise intruded.
“Damn it, this bitch. Has her headphones so loud she’s ignoring us.”
Annoying, insignificant noise.
“We tried to be nice, but you’re asking for it.”
She didn’t want to be bothered.
“Nice, my ass. Remember that girl last time? You said you’d talk to her nicely, then you fucking XXXX and XX her, and then she reported you.”
But the noise persisted.
“That’s because that bitch didn’t listen. The guild leader’s nephew offers to play with her, and she’s not grateful?”
“What happened to her anyway?”
“Kicked her out of the guild, obviously. Some level 20 nobody, just because she’s pretty, gets accepted into the guild, and then she has the nerve to report us?”
“Ugh, that ungrateful bitch.”
The incessant chatter, the disruptive noise, the disgusting emotions mixed within… It pulled her out of the music, shattering her pleasant mood.
“Hey, how about we…”
“Shut up.”
“What?”
Eugene finally stopped humming.
Looking at the two thugs, who blinked in surprise, she said coldly,
“I said, shut up and get lost.”
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