PVLG Ch 1
by soapaEarly spring of 1911, England. A red-haired cleaner stands alone, mopping the floor of a theater. The concert hall, once vibrant with music, now held a certain desolate air.
A clinking sound emanated from the cleaner’s mop as he worked in the backstage hallway. Something strange was caught on it. The cleaner lifted it to find a brass finger plane, about two knuckles long. The blade was missing, and patches of turquoise corrosion stained it haphazardly.
It looked like trash. Should he just throw it away? The cleaner was pondering this very thought when…
“Hey! Ginger!”
The cleaner turned at the sound. The source of the shout was the orchestra’s violinist, on his way home after the concert. What was he still doing here? The cleaner clicked his tongue silently, thinking this. Whether he did or not, the man was pointing at his feet and fuming.
“If you can’t even do your job properly, why don’t you just leave?”
The cleaner, already tired with dark circles under his eyes, looked down at the man’s feet. There, in front of his polished shoes, was a sticky puddle of blue soda.
The young man raised his dull eyes to the violinist’s hand. He was holding an overturned soda cup.
“What if I slip on this and break one of these precious fingers? Will you take responsibility?”
The man stepped into the puddle he had spilled, right in front of the cleaner. Blue footprints stained the once-gleaming marble. Standing nose-to-nose with the cleaner, the man extended one of his precious fingers and poked the cleaner’s forehead repeatedly.
“Huh? Tell me, you little shit. Do you think you have the right to infringe on the audience’s right to hear my precious sound? I am someone who receives standing ovations. To receive such accolades, I always need to be in top form, and you’ve ruined it all. How can you not even manage to clean a hallway?”
He must have messed up during the performance. The cleaner tried to ignore his rising anger. The man, despite his unremarkable talent, possessed an arrogance that surpassed even the greatest maestros.
He was notorious for throwing tantrums whenever his performance didn’t go his way or if he made the slightest mistake. He was remarkably adept at finding someone he could vent his temper on without repercussions, and he never so much as touched a noble or a wealthy person. The man continued to berate the cleaner, who remained silent.
“If you have a mouth, speak, you little shit. Don’t be so boring.”
“…….”
“Do you understand English? Can you read and write? All the redheads I’ve seen wander around like corpses, is it because they don’t even have the energy to speak?”
The man’s chosen topic for harassment was trite but remarkably effective in provoking the cleaner’s anger. Veins bulged on the cleaner’s hand gripping the mop handle. But he reminded himself that if he didn’t control his temper this time, he could kiss his human dignity goodbye. The cleaner held his breath and tried to calm down.
“Sigh. Forget it. What’s the point of dealing with a deaf mute?”
Clicking his tongue, the man walked past the cleaner. Blue footprints trailed behind him. It’s a good thing there wasn’t a carpet. The cleaner closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath. It was over quickly, relatively speaking.
However, the man didn’t go home quietly. Spotting someone at the far end of the hallway, he pointed and exclaimed.
“Hey, there’s another ginger.”
At the end of his finger was a red-haired woman leaving the theater. Confident that his voice wouldn’t reach her, the man continued his tirade.
“Ugh. I can’t stand the sight of them. That woman keeps recommending musicians to this place. Why doesn’t she just stick to her salons and share her vulgar tastes among her own kind, instead of poking around the theater?”
The woman he was criticizing was Mrs. Cedric. She was the benefactor who had helped the cleaner, a young man who had been drifting around as a hoodlum, secure this cleaning job. His reputation for causing trouble had resulted in constant rejection from potential employers. Her help was the first positive experience he had in this city. Without her, he would have been evicted and living on the streets.
Mrs. Cedric also sponsored promising musicians, recommending them for debuts at the theater. Thanks to her excellent ear for music, the musicians she recommended quickly gained fame throughout England.
But this loud-mouthed man was always outside of her radar, and he resented it. So, he busied himself spreading rumors and belittling her.
“Look at that vulgarly bright red hair. Buying her way into the theater with money, such a low-class thought, isn’t it? Tsk. I wonder if she devoured her late husband too? For a more… liberating bed life, perhaps?”
Did he really think the cleaner was deaf? The man’s words were becoming increasingly inappropriate.
“They say ginger women are overflowing with lust. Just look at the number of musicians she’s debuted; isn’t it obvious? Huh? She’s probably stuffing every man who’s satisfied her in bed into this place.”
Venting his frustrations on a captive audience, the man started to walk away. With each insult, he felt his heavy footsteps lighten.
“You too, if you want a better life, why don’t you go and play the strings between your legs? Then you’ll quickly be on the same stage as me.”
Lost in his self-absorbed rant, the man stopped as if he had remembered something.
“Ah, no. I’d rather have her myself. Don’t you know that the more vulgar a person is, the tastier they are in bed? I bet she’d be screaming and giving me a standing ovation with my magnificent technique…. Huh?”
The man, gleefully divulging his inner thoughts, stopped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the red-haired cleaner, who had seemed so languid just moments before. His blue eyes now sparked with fire.
“…I’ll at least make sure I see you cry, you fucking bastard.”
The cleaner’s fist, raised high, eclipsed the light. The shadow of his fist, cast over the man’s face, shrunk so quickly that the man couldn’t even blink.
Thump!
As soon as the man crumpled to the ground from the punch, the cleaner stomped his foot down beside his face. The man’s face turned pale as he saw the foot planted next to him. Bending down, the cleaner rested his elbow on his bent knee and glared at the man.
“If you’re going to spew shit from your mouth, what’s the point of having it on your face? If you want, I can switch your mouth and anus for you. No. Since you probably won’t change anyway, let’s just do it now. Oh, I don’t have a medical license, so take that into consideration.”
“Ugh… Uhh…Aaagh!”
Overwhelmed by the cleaner’s fierce gaze and the barrage of insults he’d never heard before, the man screamed. Against a seasoned street fighter who had spent years surviving on his fists, this nobleman, who seemed like he’d never seen a drop of blood, was easy prey.
“M… M… M… Mrs. Cedric!”
The man, beaten by the cleaner, cried out for Mrs. Cedric as if calling upon a deity. Was this the same man who had just insulted her so viciously? The cleaner was taken aback by his sudden change of heart.
“It’s not easy to do, but you sure are making a fool of yourself. Shall I remove what’s dangling between your legs while I’m at it? Yes, I’ll do it right now.”
The man’s face went white as the cleaner’s gaze shifted to his groin.
“Aaaaagh….”
“Mr. Diego! Are you alright?”
Mrs. Cedric, having heard his cries, rushed over, pushed the cleaner aside, and helped the man to his feet. The man clung to her arm, panicked.
“Madam! This man is crazy! To think such a lunatic was roaming the theater! He must be expelled from this place immediately! Immediately! Otherwise….”
“Otherwise?”
The cleaner spoke, his eyes fixed on the man’s groin. The man gasped and scrambled back, creating distance between them. His pale face and frantic movements resembled someone confronting a rabid dog off its leash. The cleaner, not disappointing his expectations, growled.
“You. Say another word out of line. If I even hear a whisper that you’ve been spreading those kinds of rumors, I’ll crush your fucking balls.”
“Get out of here this instant!!”
Mrs. Cedric pointed towards the exit and shouted. The cleaner was immediately thrown out of the theater.
On a breakwater by the deserted seashore. The cleaner, no, the young man who had just lost his job, took off his cap and ran his hands through his hair, sighing as he looked at the sky above the horizon.
“Sigh….”
Why was it always like this? His last job, the one before that, too. He had lost them all because he couldn’t control his temper. Why wouldn’t anyone leave him alone?
The cleaner looked down at a strand of red hair caught between his fingers. If only his hair color were ordinary, maybe the world wouldn’t torment him so much.
Mrs. Cedric’s look of contempt haunted his memory. He had wronged her.
“…I should have waited and dealt with him quietly when no one was around.”
Finishing his sigh, the young man reached into his pocket and pulled out something caught on his fingers. It was the brass finger plane, covered in turquoise corrosion marks.
He had picked it up in the theater before he was thrown out. Was it something someone had thrown away? Or had someone lost it?
The young man examined the plane. It was shaped like an elongated dice, open on top. The blade was missing, and only the screws that would have held it in place remained. It was severely corroded from long neglect. The young man muttered.
“It really is just trash.”
Then, as if he had noticed something, the young man’s eyebrows twitched. Needing more light, he struck a match he found in his pocket and illuminated the plane. A name, engraved on the side, caught his eye.
“…How do you read this? Miller?”
Just then, a bright flash and a loud boom erupted behind him. Startled, the young man turned around. It seemed like lightning had struck nearby. The once-calm wind began to pick up after the lightning strike. Was it going to pour? As the young man stared blankly at the darkening sky, something cold grabbed his hand and pulled him into the sea.
“…Whoa!”
The young man plunged into the ocean, unaware of what had pulled him in. With no one around, he couldn’t call for help. As he thrashed in the water, heavy rain began to fall from the black sky. The rising waves trapped him, preventing him from surfacing.
“…Wait! This…!”
It felt like the waves were coiling around his legs. Like they had a will of their own, the currents dragged him downwards. Panicked, the young man kicked his legs hard, but the water only tightened its grip on his ankles.
“Help!”
His cries were swallowed by the roar of the rain and crashing waves. He was in dire straits.
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
A loud, drum-like heartbeat pounded in his ears. He was now in the heart of the ocean, with nothing to grab onto. The sound disoriented him. He wanted to rip his own heart out to escape the maddening noise.
The air trapped in the young man’s lungs bubbled to the surface. His airway was blocked, and the agonizing pain of water filling his lungs intensified. Someone, please, help me!
But his struggles in the water were futile; his cries couldn’t reach the surface. He began to lose strength.
Is this the end? His life had been nothing but contempt for having nothing. He was tired of closing his mouth because no one listened to him anyway. Were there even any people in this city who knew his name? His life was worth less than a rolling coin. Maybe disappearing like this forever wasn’t such a bad idea.
Just as the pain-stricken young man was about to give up his last breath…
A golden melody. Life stirred in the chilling, murky water.
It was the sound of a violin, a melody that silenced everything. The sound of the lapping waves, the bubbling foam, even the deafening roar of his own heart – all fell silent. The melody was like a gentle spring breeze. That spring breeze unraveled the watery ropes binding him.
His heart, which had been screaming in terror, now burned with a fervent heat. His mind, clouded by the fear of death, became clear. Thanks to the distinctly audible music, the thumping of his heart no longer registered.
A slow, gentle timbre. The piece was a hymn calling upon God. Even though the young man was ignorant of both God and music, he recognized the melody sometimes played in churches. But this was different, on another level entirely.
Lightning flashed above, illuminating the water. The momentary flash – as brief as an inhale – was enough to ignite a single desire within him.
I want to hear it. If I don’t hear it properly, I might regret it for the rest of my life.
Later, the young man wouldn’t remember how he managed to surface with that single breath, how he fought through the rough waves churned by the storm.
He simply swam mindlessly, driven by the gentle violin, towards a destination he wouldn’t recall, with an intensity that defied memory. The young man clung to that golden melody descending into the water like a lifeline, and he climbed out. He heaved himself onto the dock, his arms soaking wet, coughed up water, and then looked up in the direction of the intensifying melody. The first thing the young man saw were dry shoes on the dock.
Boom!
Lightning struck nearby. But the musician didn’t stop playing. It was as if he couldn’t hear the thunder shaking the world. The young man listening to his playing couldn’t hear the thunder either. The only sound he allowed into his ears was the man’s violin. The warm resonance of the wooden instrument was more powerful than the thunder.
Puddles dotted the wooden dock where the man stood. But there were no ripples in the puddles. The rain had stopped. Only the damp, black sky remained, illuminated by intermittent flashes of lightning. The young man’s gaze traveled up the musician’s torso, finally reaching his face. And once again, a flash –
His blond hair seemed to gleam with captured lightning. The elegant curves of the violin. The movement of his wrist holding the bow. The delicate movements weaving the notes.
The violinist, dressed in a dark green suit, had his eyes gently closed. He was more elegant than any musician the young man had ever seen. Was this the kind of sound that the man who had scorned Mrs. Cedric and him had craved? Who could not worship him, the creator of such captivating music?
The sky, having ceased its downpour, began to unleash lightning instead. It seemed as if the heavens were demanding that he stop playing, that he stop captivating the world with his sound. The lightning flashed behind the man, briefly outlining his silhouette before disappearing. The man, bathed in the afterglow, slowly opened his eyes.
Jet-black eyes, rare for someone with blond hair, were revealed between his delicate eyelids. The young man’s eyes met the man’s gaze as he looked down.
Divine punishment. As soon as their eyes met, that single phrase struck the young man’s mind like a bolt of lightning. Wasn’t lightning said to be divine punishment? Why that word came to mind while looking at the man who created such angelic melodies, he didn’t know.
Rick snapped out of his trance the moment the man played the final note. The man’s hand stilled as the piece reached its end. As the sound of the violin faded, a sigh escaped the young man’s lips. It felt like waking from a sweet dream. A chilling coldness enveloped him the moment the music stopped. His fingertips, resting on the dock, began to tremble.
The man, having finished his performance, began walking towards the young man.
Step, step, step….
The sound of the man’s shoes grew closer. But that was the only sound reaching the young man’s ears. The crash of waves against the dock, the violent gusts of wind, the screaming of the flag on the ship – all went unheard.
Only that man, and the sounds he made, were audible. The sound of his dry shoes stepping on the wet ground, the rustle of his clothes against the violin he held, the sound of air caressing the depths of his lungs before escaping, even the sound of his eyelashes, upper and lower, golden strands intertwining and separating as he blinked.
The man stopped in front of the young man, who was still half-submerged in the water, bent down, and parted his apple-red lips.
“Thank you for listening. My only audience member. Would you grant me the honor of knowing your name?”
Having delivered his message, his lips curved into a sly smile. The young man’s spine stiffened at the polite request. In contrast, his heart began to pound. He felt breathless. He couldn’t remember the name of this emotion that was pulling him back into the sea, right after he had escaped it.
Feeling a sense of vertigo, the young man told the man his name.
“…Rick Mann.”
The young man, Rick, spoke his name as if invoking a distant star. That simple act made him feel like his name, adrift in the vast universe, had finally landed on Earth. The blond man, having heard Rick’s name, rolled his dark eyes upwards and murmured.
“Rick Mann. Rick… Rick…”
The man’s voice carried weight. His words anchored Rick’s name to the ground. Did the blond man know what he had just done? The dark eyes, having looked at the sky, fell upon Rick with a thud.
“How can you see me?”
With those words, the man’s dark pupils turned white and slitted vertically.
“This Great Demon didn’t allow it.”
His lips curved into a delightful smile. Rick, the image of that angelic smile burned into his retina, finally recognized the emotion he felt towards the man.
It was fear, the terror of a bottomless fall. His eyes were like a pit inviting that fall. Rick felt dizzy, as if he would be impaled on those sharp, white pupils at the bottom of the descent.
His vertically slitted pupils resembled those of a reptile, or perhaps a cat basking in sunlight. But both of those creatures had black pupils. Rick had never seen a being with white pupils in his entire life. If this was real, was he dreaming?
“By the way, are you doing some kind of spiritual training there?”
He asked Rick, who was still in the water. Rick then noticed his own hands, trembling from the cold. The April seawater, devoid of sunlight, was icy.
“Sp…spiritual…training….”
His teeth chattered from the cold. Having answered, Rick crawled out of the sea. The dock was damp from the sudden downpour when he had fallen in. Coughing and spitting out more water, Rick wiped his chin with the back of his hand and asked the man,
“So…you’re…a demon?”
“You missed ‘Great’. I thought you had a good ear, but I guess not. How can you properly appreciate my performance like that?”
Despite the sharp words, his voice was so sweet it could be mistaken for a lover’s whisper. He stood elegantly, like a gentleman, holding the violin behind his back. He looked surreal, standing alone, aloof amidst the chaos of rain and thunder. He resembled a figure in an unchanging painting.
To Rick, who had no religion, demons and angels were tales from another world. It was difficult for the utterly practical Rick to comprehend such unreal beings. But this unreality was his current reality.
“No…. I heard it…clearly.”
He had exhausted himself getting out of the water; his eyelids felt heavy. But he couldn’t fall asleep here. It wasn’t a matter of life and death. It was something else. Rick forced his eyelids open. They fluttered with the effort. Ignoring his trembling eyelids, Rick pushed himself up with his elbows and began crawling towards the demon. The short distance, only three steps, felt incredibly long.
Finally, Rick reached the demon’s shoes. He then pulled himself up, one frozen leg at a time, and stood precariously before the demon. The demon watched him without moving a muscle. Rick’s body trembled violently.
The demon observed the human struggling to stand on numb legs with curiosity. Rick, despite his condition, stuffed the finger plane he was still holding into his soaked pocket, raised his empty hands, and brought his palms together. The demon’s eyebrows rose as he watched.
“Hmm?”
Rick then began clapping his hands, his body creaking with the effort. He finally uttered the words he had wanted to say since hearing the performance.
“…Bra…vo….”
The young man had heard that a standing ovation was the highest praise an audience could give a performer. The demon’s violin playing had, in a way, saved his life. Whether the one who played it was a demon or a human didn’t matter to Rick. The standing ovation was the praise the demon deserved, and the sentiment Rick had to convey.
Having expressed his admiration for the demon’s performance, Rick collapsed as if he had completed his life’s work. He resembled a gas lamp that had run out of fuel. His breathing slowed.
“…Huh.”
The demon chuckled, looking down at the human who didn’t even seem to prioritize his own life. He was a baffling individual in many ways. Looking away from Rick, the demon glanced at a streetlamp not far from them.
Crack!
Lightning struck the streetlamp the demon was looking at. Simultaneously, all the lights in the nearby houses went out. The streetlamp began to burn fiercely, and the people inside the darkened houses naturally witnessed it. They all came rushing out with buckets.
One of the people gathered near the sea to draw seawater spotted Rick and shouted. The villagers gathered around Rick, murmuring. One of them picked him up and carried him away. The demon watched Rick’s receding back as he was carried into a house and murmured.
“Things have become interesting. I can’t let him die now.”
His tar-black eyes rested on Rick’s pocket, where the plane was tucked away.
“Isn’t that right, Ricky?”
Unfortunately, his words didn’t reach the unconscious Rick.
🎻
Someone seemed to be shining a flashlight in his eyes. Rick, who had been sleeping soundly, scrunched up his face and folded his pillow over his head. The painful glare subsided. He was just about to drift back into peaceful sleep when…
“Sleeping like a log, aren’t you?”
A man’s voice, as gentle as if addressing a newborn puppy, whispered. Who was soothing their child to sleep?
“It’s about time you woke up, don’t you think?”
Someone touched Rick’s nose. Half-asleep and annoyed, Rick muttered a curse and turned over. The person who had touched him chuckled softly. Hearing that chuckle, the memory of the moments before he lost consciousness flashed through Rick’s mind. He opened his eyes immediately.
In front of him, a handsome blond man lay sprawled beside Rick, his head propped up on one arm, watching him. A light smile played at the corners of his eyes.
“Hello.”
“Aaaargh!”
It wasn’t a dream! Rick bolted upright, screaming. A few seconds after his scream shook the room, a girl with short brown hair burst through the door.
“Ah! You’re awake! Thank goodness. I thought I’d have to dispose of a corpse.”
The girl approached Rick with a basin of water.
“Are you alright? How did you end up collapsed there? You don’t have any burns, so I don’t think you were struck by lightning… Soaking wet like that, did you fall into the sea in the middle of the night? They said your body temperature was dangerously low. Oh, my name is Benjamin. You see, you were lying unconscious near the fire started by the lightning strike. If my dad hadn’t found you, it would have been a disaster.”
The girl chattered like someone rescued after being stranded on a deserted island for a long time. Having used every breath to speak without pause, the girl grabbed the towel, which Rick hadn’t even realized was on his forehead, dipped it in the basin, wrung it out, and placed it back on his forehead.
“Ugh.”
The cold water, not properly wrung out, dripped down his chin. It felt as if a waterfall had crashed onto Rick’s face. As Rick, involuntarily subjected to a cold-water face wash in the morning, struggled to regain his senses, the devil chuckled, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Rick wiped his chin with the back of his hand and addressed the devil.
“Who are you? Are you really the devil?”
“Excuse me? No, just because I didn’t wring the water out properly… such harsh words…”
The reply came not from the devil, but from the girl. Mistaking his words for an insult directed at her for being called a devil, the girl’s eyes welled up with tears.
“No, I wasn’t talking to you… You can’t see him?”
“……Mommy!!”
Rick pointed to the devil lying next to him, but the terrified girl shook her head, backing away before finally calling for her mother and running outside. Rick, suddenly labeled as mentally unstable, stared blankly at the door through which the girl had disappeared. The devil giggled.
“A great devil like me doesn’t readily reveal himself to humans. You’re special.”
“Then am I really crazy?”
“You imagined my perfect performance? Even if you were crazy, that couldn’t be true.”
The devil’s arrogant opinion was, at least to Rick, convincing. His performance was unforgettable. Perhaps he would never forget it for the rest of his life. Recalling the title of the piece, Rick muttered.
“…Really the devil? But what you played was a hymn….”
“Hahahaha! Do you think I’d melt from some hymn? Are you looking for horns, by any chance? I’d rather you didn’t get your hopes up. I don’t want to disappoint you twice.”
The devil scoffed, brushing the hair covering his forehead. Golden hair spilled through his white fingers. And the forehead revealed beneath was smooth, without any protruding bumps. Apparently, listening to or playing hymns didn’t make the devil convulse or anything. Stopping his laughter, the devil spoke.
“You’ll know I’m the devil when you make a contract with me. After you receive the shining talent that anyone would covet, that is. Congratulations on receiving the privilege of a lifetime. Now all that’s left is to unfold your life.”
As he finished speaking, the devil flicked his index finger towards the open door, and it slammed shut as if caught in a gust of wind. A few seconds later, the doorknob began to rattle and turn from outside. But the door wouldn’t open. After a few clicks, a knock followed.
“Mister! Did you close the door? Open the door, please!”
A woman’s voice accompanied the girl’s voice. Presumably, it was the girl’s mother. The devil, who had locked the door without even touching it, said cheerfully.
“They came quickly. There shouldn’t be any interruptions during an important conversation. Now, shall we discuss the contract?”
The phenomenon that defied the laws of physics made Rick’s heart pound. Either it was a dream, or it was a real devil. Having made his judgment, Rick cautiously asked.
“What contract?”
“Only those who can see me can make a contract with me. How can I sign a contract with someone who can’t even see me? Right? In that sense, you are fully qualified to make a contract. Your actions, suddenly appearing from the sea, are quite amusing.”
The devil paused, as if in thought, then asked.
“By the way, is swimming until you collapse in crazy weather a hobby of yours? Even for an island nation citizen, that’s a bit much.”
“No, it’s because the sea was pulling me…”
“Romantic. Perhaps a dream is the best poet? If that’s the case, it’s a bit problematic. It needs to bring in money. How about a novelist or a playwright? If you must be a poet, a side hustle is fine too.”
The devil started to ramble about how worldly pleasures were the best. After preaching at length about the nobility of pleasure and revelry, he finally brought up the topic of the contract he had been saving.
“If you make a contract with me, I will give you a shining talent. With it, you’ll gain gold that won’t diminish even after a lifetime of spending, a bed even more plush than this one, and fame that will make you feel like you own the world. The world will always want your ability, and people will be dying to worship you. Who would dare to look down on you? A human with the devil on their back.”
The devil let out a wicked laugh.
“No one will be able to hurt you. If there’s someone you want to toy with, toy with them. No matter what you do, there won’t be any repercussions. You won’t have to bow your head to anyone, you won’t have to endure anything, and you can eat a feast every meal. Run wild. The world will become your playground.”
Perhaps he was a devil for a reason, as Rick started to be captivated as he listened. It was sweet just to imagine it. Hadn’t he always had to sharpen his thorns and be on guard to endure the world’s contempt, disregard, and oppression towards those who had nothing?
“Take the world. You, who found me, deserve it.”
What the devil held and dangled was an irresistible forbidden fruit. Rick’s eyes began to glaze over. What would it feel like to look down upon the world from above? Wasn’t this the opportunity? If he missed this, he might have to crawl through life like this forever. Because ordinary people can never escape being ordinary.
Just then, the knocking on the door snapped Rick out of his wandering delusions. A conversation about how strange it was that the door wouldn’t unlock, despite there being no lock, drifted in from behind the door.
“Mister! How did you close the door? Are you trapped? Or did you close it? Are you okay?”
Now the knocking grew so forceful that it sounded like they wanted to break the door down. The devil clicked his tongue, annoyed by them. His white pupils, staring at the door, turned icy blue. Rick rubbed his arms at the sudden chill in the room. The atmosphere surrounding the devil was unusual.
I heard that human lives are lighter than a fly’s to the devil… Recalling the rumors of the devil’s cruelty, Rick’s nerves were on edge. Rick blurted out something, anything, to distract him.
“How long are you going to stay lying down? If you want to talk to me seriously, show me some appropriate behavior.”
“Quite arrogant for someone who trembled at the sight of me.”
His black gaze fell on Rick.
“Shouldn’t you either adore me or fear me?”
The devil’s white pupils pierced Rick sharply. Swallowing hard, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, Rick calmly replied.
“I was just so cold back then.”
Concealing his fear, Rick answered boldly, not avoiding the devil’s eyes. But contrary to his words, Rick’s fingertips began to tremble. He discreetly hid them under the blanket.
A silent confrontation ensued. Cold sweat ran down Rick’s back. He felt like a mouse before a cat. After what felt like an eternity, the devil broke the frozen atmosphere.
“Well, fine. If our Ricky wants it, I’ll service you this much.”
The devil spoke, sitting up. The mother and daughter outside the door were discussing getting tools from downstairs. The devil, getting out of bed and standing on both feet, dusted off and smoothed his clothes.
He was still wearing the elegant dark green suit. His calmly settled blond hair and deep-set eye hollows created a profound aura. His face, which formed expressions with minimal muscle movement, could transform him into a friendly neighborhood youth one moment, and a merciless killer the next.
His age was also impossible to determine, as he freely shifted his atmosphere. At times he possessed the playfulness of an innocent boy, and at other times he carried the peculiar hollowness of an old man who had weathered the storms of time.
His fingers, characteristic of those who play instruments, were straight and drew attention. Whenever he moved his fingers even slightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulged and became prominent. Rick struggled to keep his gaze from being drawn to the devil’s fingers whenever he so much as twitched them.
However, only his eyes were different. His black eyes were like sticky tar, clinging to everything. And the white pupils that cut through them were alien, as if proving that he wasn’t human.
“To think that the one showing courtesy is me, the great devil. If other contractors saw this, they’d be shocked out of hell. I want you to know that even though you’re not feeling well, this is treatment they wouldn’t even dream of.”
He said, carefully adjusting his crimson tie. Still gripping the reins of tension in the lingering tense air, Rick asked.
“I don’t understand why you want to make a contract just because I found you. And special treatment different from other contractors…”
“It’s not a whim. It’s because I have a good feeling that you will be my last contractor.”
“Last contractor?”
“Once I take yours, it’s like reaching my quota, so to speak. So just know that you have the opportunity for tremendous privileges that other contractors wouldn’t even imagine. I am the chance to unfold your life. A devil with gentlemanly manners doesn’t come to just anyone. Now, Ricky. Judging by your hazy eyes, it seems you have something you desire. Honesty is a human virtue. What is it that you truly desire?”
The devil’s eyes deepened as he asked. His eyes, into which one couldn’t help but fall endlessly, were like the vast universe. Rick fell and plummeted into them. Within that starless expanse, Rick became honest about his pure desire.
My desire. Golden performance. The devil’s melody.
Just hearing the question about his desire made it feel as though he could hear the performance again. Rick realized that he had been dead until he heard that sound. The devil’s performance had brought Rick to life.
The devil’s melody enveloped and constricted Rick’s heart. Rick felt certain that he could not return to the time before he had heard the melody. The melody, now a chain, illuminated his path forward. He could see the way. Paradoxically, it was only after his heart was bound that he could see the path. When his heart beat freely without any constraints, Rick couldn’t go anywhere. But now, with the path visible, he could move. It was easy to be honest with his desires, or rather, with himself. Rick cautiously voiced his true desire.
“…Can I play the same sounds as you?”
“I will make you play even better than me.”
The non-human being answered immediately without hesitation.
“If you make a contract with me, no one in this world will be able to play more captivatingly than you.”
The devil’s certainty spread to Rick. An intense desire Rick had never experienced before. If he could fulfill that desire, he would gladly embrace the devil’s contract and sink. Rick, who had always considered certainty to be arrogance, decided to be utterly arrogant in the face of the talent the devil offered. Nodding, Rick asked.
“The price?”
“Your soul. To put it simply, I’ll take the influence you’ve accumulated until your death. When you die, no one will remember you. The writings about you will become blank pages, and your stories will become silent. You will completely disappear from everyone’s memory, from the world. A fatal price for an artist who desires immortal fame.”
“Is that all?”
“Is that all, you say? The value is sufficient.”
The devil scoffed in reply. Rick, weighing the terms of the contract, asked.
“Was the price the same for the other contractors who made a deal with you?”
“Of course. The influence a single human has on the world is immense. Their achievements, fame, works, even the trash they created. All traces disappeared from the world. No evidence remained that they ever existed here. Even children carrying their genes were completely erased from the world.”
It was human instinct to want to leave a mark on the world. Some through children carrying their genes, some through works into which they poured their lives, and others through bonds with people and the praise they received. They struggled to somehow imprint themselves upon the world.
A few with strong egos had this instinct particularly strong. They would stop at nothing to have a name that would last forever in the world. But that alone wasn’t enough. If you gathered those whose pure passion, or in other words, deep madness, wasn’t recognized by the world, you could easily fill a small country.
Madness had to be innate, but luck had to be chosen by heaven. Those madmen who weren’t chosen, no matter how hard they tried, began to pray to the devil instead of God. They wanted the power to reverse the flow. They wanted the skill to crush luck. Those whose madness outweighed their instincts would stop at nothing if it meant getting what they wanted. Even if it meant being erased from the world after death.
However, Rick hadn’t obsessed over anything in his life. Even deeply captivated by the devil’s melody, it was quite reckless for someone who didn’t even know how to finger a violin to readily enter a contract with playing skill as the reward. Rick knew that too.
After carefully considering the devil’s words, Rick asked again.
“Are the contractors forgotten even by you?”
“Well, I remember a few impressive ones.”
“So, it is possible to remember.”
“The great devil is the only being who can remember the history of contractors.”
The devil said, letting his sideburns fall onto his shoulder and smoothly lifting the corners of his lips. It was an affirmation. Having seen his answer, Rick’s deliberation was short.
“Then I’ll do it.”
“I like your decisiveness. But isn’t your deliberation too short? It seems like you’ve never handled an instrument before. After the contract, you won’t easily love any human. Even if you marry, your partner won’t remember you after you die. The children you painstakingly raise will turn to dust and disappear.”
The good times of the future didn’t resonate with Rick yet, and not having anything was the same as now anyway. Even if he died now, no one would remember him. At best, they’d remember him as a crazy thug, a pathetic redhead. Thinking about it that way, wouldn’t it be a gain to shed that stigma after the contract? Thinking so, Rick nodded and said.
“It’s enough that you remember me.”
The devil had said he could run wild as he pleased, so he would be as arrogant and reckless as he liked. Rick boldly bit into the temptation offered by the devil.
The contract was sealed.
🎻
The girl’s mother, wrestling with the unopened door, finally retrieved a hammer from the toolbox. Gripping the hammer’s handle and swinging it back over her shoulder, she glared at the doorknob.
“Benjamin! Be careful!”
She warned her daughter just as she was about to swing the hammer. The door burst open, and a red-haired pirate sprang out. His long hair was tangled, having dried after being soaked in seawater, and his bristly beard resembled a blood-soaked cutlassfish. This pirate was Rick, who had been lying sick in bed just moments ago.
Rick, seeing the woman staring at him menacingly with a hammer, and the woman seeing a beggar who looked as though he slept on the streets, both screamed in surprise.
“Aaaargh!”
“Aaack!”
Startled, the woman swung the hammer at Rick. Whooooosh- The sound of the swinging hammer was chilling. Cold sweat trickled down Rick’s back as he swiftly dodged the blow. As the murderous woman raised the hammer again, the child clung to her waist, stopping her.
“Mom! He’s a patient! You saw him last night!”
“He… Hello, ma’am.”
Rick greeted the woman, holding up both palms to emphasize his harmlessness. He didn’t forget to offer an awkward smile. The woman, still eyeing him suspiciously, held back the hammer and asked.
“How did you close the door when there’s no latch? And what were you doing in a locked room before that?”
“I apologize. It seems I collapsed from exhaustion as soon as I got up. The door…”
Rick pointed to a long coat rack lying on the floor beside them.
“When I collapsed, this fell too, and it got wedged between the door and the wardrobe. I’m sorry for startling you.”
Still suspicious, the woman looked back and forth between the wardrobe and the coat rack. As if to verify his story, there was a dent on the wardrobe where the leg of the coat rack had struck it. At that angle, the inward-opening door could have been blocked by the fallen coat rack. Finally convinced, the woman lowered the hammer, accepting Rick’s explanation.
🎻
The woman’s husband said he couldn’t just ignore Rick, who was practically dying, and brought him in. The woman, who firmly refused any payment for her troubles, including the medical examination fee, even offered Rick a meal. Rick politely declined, saying,
“I’ve already received more than enough. I’ll come back to repay your kindness.”
Standing at the entrance, Rick bowed deeply to the woman and her daughter and left. Leaving the house, Rick muttered as he weaved through the people walking on the street.
“You cause the trouble, and I clean it up. This is too much…”
“Mister!”
Before he had taken more than a few steps, someone tugged at his hand and called out to him.
“Mister! Take this!”
It was the girl from the house Rick had just left, offering him bread. Her cheeks were flushed, as if she had run after him. Rick, flustered by the overflowing kindness of the people in that house, was at a loss for words, so the girl took his empty hand and placed the bread in it.
At this point, it would be rude to refuse. Rick frowned, racking his brain to remember the girl’s name.
“So, your name is… uh… Benny. Thank you, Benny.”
Rick stared into empty space as if looking at someone, then finally, as if he had remembered, said the girl’s name. The child’s eyes widened at the sound of her name, and she giggled, covering her mouth with her chubby hand, and said,
“You too, mister. Thank you.”
“Huh?”
“Come visit again.”
The girl waved enthusiastically at Rick as she walked away. They were strangely kind to Rick, who hadn’t done anything for them. Watching the girl disappear into the distance, Rick quietly muttered.
“…Was this part of the contract terms too? The kindness of humans or something…”
“No way.”
The blond man appeared beside Rick like a shadow, answering him out of nowhere. He crossed his arms and watched the girl walking away, saying,
“Sometimes there are humans who feel so much pity that they would give away their own flesh. Crazy, right? When you see this, human madness isn’t anything special.”
“Their own flesh?”
“Look at yourself. They readily let a beggar with no verifiable identity into their home? And didn’t you see her swing a hammer at you? That woman was wary of you. Taking care of you in a house without a resident man is a big risk.”
At the devil’s words about how he looked like a beggar, Rick looked at his reflection in a shop window. His hair and beard, soaked and plastered to his scalp, now dry, looked like cutlassfish stuck to his head. And on top of that, oh my god. That faint fishy smell that followed him everywhere… it was him. Burying his nose in his sleeve, Rick muttered.
“I need to go home and wash.”
“You have a home?”
“Stop teasing me.”
Rick demanded of the devil, taking a bite of the bread and continuing,
“And thanks for telling me the kid’s name. I would’ve felt terrible if I got it wrong after getting bread from them.”
It was the devil who whispered the girl’s name into Rick’s ear while he was preoccupied with trying to remember it. The devil raised both eyebrows and his lower lip as if it were nothing. As Rick strolled towards his home, he continued,
“Speaking of names, my name is Rick. Not Ricky.”
“Don’t be so stiff, my contractor. Don’t you know nicknames?”
Rick shuddered at the awkwardness of the word “nickname.” Even Rick’s mother, who he hadn’t seen in so long that his memories were beginning to fade, had never called him Ricky. Rick corrected the devil.
“Rick.”
“Ricky.”
“Rick.”
“Cute Ricky.”
“Rick Mann.”
“Our lovely Ricky Mann.”
Rick shuddered, feeling as though his hair was standing on end, and rubbed his arms. He surrendered, seeing the devil enjoying his reaction. Fine, do whatever you want. What’s special treatment and privilege anyway. Tsk. Clicking his tongue, Rick said,
“Is it that fun to tease a human? So, what should I call you?”
“The great devil.”
“Right. I’ll call you Miller.”
Neither of them listened to the other, but the devil was silent at Rick’s naming. Rick, who had expected a retort, looked at him quizzically. The devil tilted his head silently. His lips curved into an arc, but his eyes remained fixed, and he asked,
“Why Miller of all things?”
“Does it need a meaning? It’s just…”
Rick took a finger-sized plane from his pocket and rolled it between his fingertips. Miller. It was the name engraved on this item he’d picked up at the theater. Rick didn’t know why that object had come to mind the moment he named the devil. The devil frowned at the plane, corroded and stained with greenish-blue spots.
“You took it from this piece of junk?”
“Junk? This is a well-loved plane. Look, the owner even engraved their name on this tiny thing.”
“How did you know that’s a plane? It doesn’t even have a blade, and it’s so small.”
“I worked briefly at a carpentry shop when I was young.”
“You can do that too?”
“Thanks to that, I didn’t starve to death.”
Rick said, rolling the small plane between his thumb and forefinger.
“Yeah. I guess finding this was fate. Since I got fired from the theater, I should go back to the carpentry shop and learn the trade again.”
“Ha! Have you already forgotten our contract? If you’re going back to a carpentry shop, why did you bother asking for playing skills?”
“You’re right, Miller. I must’ve been crazy. Can you cancel the contract? Let’s make a new one.”
“Your fickleness is so human, I love it. But no. Even I can’t cancel a contract once it’s made.”
“You can’t cancel calling you Miller either?”
“Call me whatever you want. I can only be seen by our Ricky anyway.”
“Fine.”
Rick said, stopping in front of a dilapidated villa. The windows of the house, tucked away in a secluded corner, were shattered, not a single pane intact. Several spiderwebs had already been spun around the entrance, yet another homeless spider clung to a corner of the wall, diligently working on its new home. It was clearly overpopulated.
Leaving behind the grimacing devil, Rick opened the door and strode towards his room. Miller, following close behind, was aghast at the sight of Rick’s single-room dwelling.
“Horrible. Horrible! You’re saying my contractor lives in a place like this? Does your squeaking roommate over there contribute a single penny to the rent?”
Miller asked, pointing to a sewer rat nibbling on a biscuit it had found somewhere on the worn-out bed. Rick, accustomed to seeing a variety of rats in this place, wasn’t surprised. He waved his hand dismissively at the rat and said nonchalantly,
“Yeah, his name is Hanson. You’ll be seeing him often, so say hello.”
Squeak!
The mouse, threatened by Rick’s gesture, squeaked and scurried under the bed. The devil, hearing the rat’s squeak, stood by the door, his face contorted in disgust. Rick roughly brushed the biscuit crumbs off the bed and gestured towards it, offering a seat.
“Why don’t you come in and sit down? This is the cleanest spot.”
“Just tell me to die.”
“Why don’t you just die?”
Rick replied casually, sitting down on the bed and rummaging through the biscuit tin on the desk. However, no matter how much he searched inside the tin, his fingers found no biscuits. The devil, watching him, clicked his tongue.
“Did Hanson take the last of the food? Sharing food on top of rent. I’m starting to get jealous, you two seem closer than I am with you.”
“I’ve grown fond of him after seeing him so much. Oh, there’s my friend again. I guess Hanson came back out to greet you.”
“That’s a different rat from before.”
“Really? How is it that you know him better than I do? I’m getting jealous.”
At Rick’s joke, the devil, clicking his tongue, stepped inside the room with an expression of utter horror, as if he had just entered heaven. The surprising thing happened next. As soon as the devil crossed the threshold, the rats and cockroaches in the room scattered and hid as if their lives depended on it. Even the dust motes seemed to freeze in the still air. Rick was impressed.
“Hey, you’re useful. Thanks to you, I can have the room to myself.”
They’re probably all huddled in the corners, trembling. Rick could empathize with their sudden disappearance. The devil must be an instinctive disaster to them. Even Rick, with his thick skin, was making an effort to act brazen in Miller’s presence.
To think that his mere presence could instill fear in the very things he loathed. It was funny that someone like that was making a fuss over a dirty room. Miller, standing alone, contributing to pest control, opened his mouth.
“Truly, it’s rare to find a room that suits its owner so well.”
“Suits me? This place? What do I even look like?”
“Like Robinson Crusoe, stranded for 24 years.”
“What’s that? Is it good?”
“Where’s your conscience to even ask that? If you don’t know, forget it. Shave first. How did you even work at the theater looking like that?”
“What does a beard matter when all I need to do is make sound with the instrument?”
Rick jumped up from the bed where he was sitting, clutching his beard and retreating. However, because the room was so small, his back hit the wallpaper after only three steps backward. Rick, who usually hid his fear well, couldn’t help but tremble this time.
“I don’t want to look like a kid!”
Whether Rick yelled or not, Miller continued his work. He opened a drawer and took out a razor. How he knew it was there, Rick didn’t know. The devil approached Rick, razor in hand.
“Even if I give you the benefit of the doubt a hundred times, you can’t go on stage like that, unless you’re playing a beggar.”
“I don’t have to go on stage! I just have to play!”
“No, no, no. That won’t do. You have to go beyond this garbage dump, to England, and soon to the world. A violinist who made a contract with the devil can’t rot away in a mouse hole like this. Why did you even make a contract with me if you’re just going to rot here? Did you just want to be inextricably linked with me? I had a feeling about you ever since you said it was enough for me to remember you even if the whole world forgets.”
“Oh, stop talking nonsense and get out!”
Bang, bang, bang! Just then, someone kicked at Rick’s door and yelled. They kicked so hard that the door hinges rattled.
“Son of a bitch! Do you live here alone? Let me sleep! You crazy bastard!”
The last kick, delivered with all their might, tore the bottom hinge off the door. Remarkably, the latch holding the lock valiantly held the door to the wall. The devil, looking at the rusty hinge rolling on the floor, said,
“…Are all your neighbors like that? Hanson is rather refined in comparison…”
“You fucking bastard! You broke my door! You goddamn piece of shit, wait right there! I’ll crack your skull open just like you want! Then you can sleep forever, you motherfucker!”
Before the devil could finish his sentence, Rick exploded in a torrent of curses. Not being at work and having nothing to hold him back, Rick didn’t avoid the fight that had come to him.
Rolling up his sleeves, Rick shoved the devil, who was blocking him, unlocked the latch, and flung the door open. But there was no one outside. They had run off in that short time. Just as Rick, boiling with rage, was about to yell for the culprit, two arms shot out from either side of his head.
“…Which apartment number, you… mmph!”
“Now that I see it, Hanson is the most refined of the residents.”
Miller, covering Rick’s mouth with one hand, wrapped his other arm around Rick’s neck and pulled him back inside. Rick mumbled, struggling against the devil’s icy wrist.
“At least rats don’t talk.”
The devil only removed his hand from Rick’s mouth after closing the door. But his neck was still trapped in the devil’s arm. Rick, fuming, grabbed the devil’s forearm and yelled towards the wall.
“The sun’s up, what sleep! Yeah, being unemployed is something to brag about!”
You’re fucking unemployed right now, aren’t you! A clear shout came from the right-side wall. It was a piercing counterattack, aimed at Rick, who had been fired from his job the previous day. But thanks to that, he knew which apartment it was! A glint appeared in Rick’s eyes.
“You… just you wait!”
As soon as Rick’s threat ended, the sound of someone scrambling out of their room and running away echoed from next door. Rick, seeing stars, tore himself away from the devil’s arm around his neck, pressed his hand to his throbbing forehead, and was about to storm out.
“If you sit quietly right here, I’ll teach you how to hold a bow.”
Miller’s words worked on Rick. At those words, Rick, his anger suddenly cooled, released the doorknob. Miller pulled out a chair buried under some clothes and dusted it off.
“The devil’s talent is useless if you don’t know how to handle an instrument. You need to know numbers to do any calculations. Don’t you think?”
Miller gestured to the empty chair. Rick, putting one hand on his hip, ruffled his hair and glared at the razor in Miller’s hand. But his hesitation was short-lived. He sat down without a word. Miller tore a hole in a piece of newspaper and draped it over Rick.
“Why are you doing this? I can shave myself.”
“You seem too fired up right now. You’ll cut yourself, so just stay put.”
Before he finished speaking, Rick’s long beard was snipped off. Rick stared at his red hairs falling to the floor as if they were his entire fortune tumbling off a cliff. As if oblivious to Rick’s distress, Miller continued to boldly shorten his beard and hair with the scissors. The floor became ablaze with Rick’s fiery hair. Finally, seeing Rick’s spirits sinking with every falling hair, Miller spoke.
“Is it really that precious to you? All the redheads I’ve seen are dissatisfied with their color and try to hide it.”
“The more you try to hide this kind of thing, the more those bastards act up. It’s way more comfortable now than when it was short.”
“And not because people mistake you for a beggar and leave you alone?”
“It’s better to be ignored.”
“Well, there are those who act up because they’re ignored.”
“I just have to crush those bastards.”
Rick said, clenching his fist. Miller, putting down the scissors, picked up the razor and said,
“That’s quite a novel approach for a contractor of the devil. Haven’t you thought about the aftermath of causing trouble?”
“Well… I have…”
Rick trailed off, his eyes darting around. At his answer, Miller thought, To think that such a reckless, hot-headed human would become a contractor. It was different from his other contractors, who were obsessed with their craft and didn’t have the interest to pick fights with other humans.
Those who made contracts with the devil were usually complex and thoughtful. It was hard for those who talked about philosophy and art to be without thoughts. Naturally, they went mad amidst the unanswered chaos. There were several conditions required to summon a devil, and the foundation was human chaos. But how did such a simple fellow manage to see a devil? Miller stared down at Rick, lost in thought.
Rick’s hair, which had covered his neck, was now short enough to expose his nape. When Miller touched his pale nape, Rick shrugged his shoulders and grumbled sullenly.
“Why are your hands so cold? I thought they were ice.”
“Don’t expect warmth from a devil. It’s good to cool down that heat in your head, why are you complaining?”
As if to silence Rick’s complaints, Miller cupped the back of Rick’s neck with his palm. Rick’s spine shivered from the cold. Before Rick could grumble further, Miller cupped his chin and asked,
“Should I kill him?”
Rick’s skin crawled at the devil’s emotionless voice. It was a statement that shut him up instantly. It was clear who the target was. The guy next door, of course. The cold razor touched Rick’s jaw. The cool metal tickled his cheek like a feather. A scraping sound followed.
“How about getting run over by a carriage? Being trampled by hooves sounds good, doesn’t it? Blowing his temple out with a hunting rifle isn’t bad either. There’s no end to the ways to split a head open.”
Rick instinctively knew the devil wasn’t joking. Saliva pooled at the back of his throat. Tense, Rick couldn’t even swallow.
“Everything will be made to look like an accident. So you have nothing to worry about.”
“…No, it’s too much.”
Rick forced the words out and swallowed hard. The devil’s hand, which had been coldly caressing the back of Rick’s neck, now gripped his jaw. The devil moved closer to Rick. His blond hair, shining on Rick, was dazzling. His black eyes focused on Rick’s jaw. The razor, trapped between his outstretched fingers, danced on Rick’s jaw. The blade grazed his skin lightly.
Miller brought his face close to Rick’s. The devil’s cold breath touched Rick’s lips. The devil carefully moved the hand holding Rick’s chin. Rick’s head turned slightly at his touch. His white pupils wandered around Rick’s lips. The devil, focused on shaving, scoffed and said,
“It’s a joke, so breathe. Why are you so tense?”
Rick hadn’t realized he wasn’t breathing until Miller pointed it out. Rick consciously inhaled and replied,
“You were serious.”
“…….”
Without answering, the devil traced the line from behind Rick’s ear to his chin. His fingers encountered no obstacles. Miller’s fingers glided over the smooth skin. Miller’s almond-shaped pupils, looking at his fingertips, narrowed further. A smile played on his lips.
“…I’ve been thinking since earlier.”
Miller’s thumb stroked Rick’s other cheek. The cool imprint of his fingerprint remained on Rick’s cheek. But strangely, a fire ignited beneath the skin where the cold touch lingered. The thumb, wandering over his smooth jaw, traced his lower lip.
“Our Ricky seems to have quite the exquisite sensitivity.”
“…What does that… mmph!”
He tried to ask what that meant, but Miller didn’t allow the question. Miller grabbed a nearby towel and patted Rick’s face vigorously, brushing away the stray hairs.
“Finished, contractor.”
“…Mmph! Mmmph!”
“Wow, you look like a different person! I like it. You look twenty years younger. Why did you hide such a pretty face?”
Rick, snatching the towel and escaping that hell, gasped and said,
“…Damn it. Then turn me back into a forty-year-old…”
“Hahaha. That would be an insult to my hard work. Now that you’re all dressed up, shall we go out? Hurry and change your clothes.”
“What are you talking about? You said you’d teach me how to hold a bow.”
“Did I? Then give me the bow.”
Miller held out his empty hand. But Rick, having nothing, had nothing to give. Rick realized that when you’re beyond exasperated, you can’t even get angry. Grabbing the back of his stiff neck, Rick exclaimed,
“You said you don’t lie to your contractors…!”
“When did I ever lie?”
The devil said nonchalantly, stretching his back with his hands clasped behind him. He looked exactly like a trustworthy gentleman. That’s why I fell for it…! Rick, who had sacrificed his precious hair and beard as an offering because he was tricked, clutched his head. The hair that had slipped through his fingers before now could only be grasped with a firm grip. Rick felt like he was pulling weeds in a park.
“You… You… Y-You…!”
“I’m looking forward to when you finally curse at me.”
Miller, having thoroughly teased Rick, unclasped his hands, revealing a bow and violin. As soon as Rick saw the violin, the tingling sensation in the back of his neck vanished, leaving a lingering chill. With a confident smile, Miller placed the violin on his shoulder.
Placing the bow on the strings, he drew the first note without hesitation. The cheerful sound of music flowed in. Miller handled the violin like a feather, rolling it delicately in his hand as if it were light and could easily fly away. On Miller’s shoulder, the small wooden instrument became a feather, a giant log, and sometimes even a massive boulder.
It was a completely different melody from the one he had heard before, but Rick was helplessly captivated. Perhaps this was what it felt like to swim in a pond filled with fragrant liquor instead of water. He was certain there was no experience comparable to listening to Miller’s playing.
Miller, fully aware of Rick’s attention, finished his performance with all sorts of flamboyant gestures. As soon as Miller’s arm shot straight up towards the sky, Rick jumped up from his seat and clapped.
“Bravo!”
At Rick’s enthusiastic reaction, Miller straightened up, puffing out his chest. Seizing the opportunity, Rick asked,
“Since you have the violin out, could you play the piece you played when we first met?”
“You really liked that, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Rick nodded, clasping his hands tightly. To Rick, the piece Miller had first played was like a superstar he had longed to meet. He now realized, after hearing this, that there was no piece that could evoke a similar feeling to the one Miller had first played.
Now without his bushy hair and beard, Rick’s face radiated with anticipation. The pure yearning in his blue eyes, contrary to his desire to appear older, made him look even younger. It was a face that would make anyone want to grant his request. However, the devil firmly stated,
“I don’t take requests.”
“Tsk. Then let me try.”
Quickly giving up, Rick held out his empty hand to Miller. Chuckling, Miller handed him his violin and bow. However, Miller’s violin passed through Rick’s hand and fell to the floor. The falling bow and violin disappeared mid-air. Rick simply looked at the dirty floor and said,
“Huh? What? Where did it go?”
“It’s right here.”
The instruments, which had vanished mid-air, were now nestled in Miller’s hands, as if they had never fallen. Rick reached out to grab the bow, but it dissipated like mist in his hand. After struggling to grasp the neck of the violin, Rick gave up and said,
“Humans can’t touch this?”
“This violin is a manifestation of my memories. Even contractors can’t touch my recollections.”
As Miller released his hands, the instruments vanished without a trace.
“Besides, what are you going to do with my instrument that others can’t even see? Even if you play well, other humans won’t be able to hear it. Right?”
“Doesn’t matter. They’re all going to forget me when I die anyway.”
Miller burst out laughing at Rick’s unexpected answer and slung an arm around his shoulder.
“Unfortunately, I don’t want to be your only audience. But don’t worry too much about not having a violin. I’ve prepared the perfect partner for my contractor. It’s time, shall we go?”
Whispering sweet words, the devil led him out of his garbage dump of a home.
Miller, who had said they needed to get a violin, took Rick to a park. However, the park Miller took him to was different than usual. Ticket inspectors stood at the entrance to the normally open park, checking people’s tickets and letting them in. Rick, furrowing his brow at the unfamiliar sight, asked,
“What’s this? What’s going on at the park?”
“Have you heard of a promenade concert?”
“Ah.”
A promenade concert. A type of outdoor concert held in a park. Promenade concerts attracted large crowds with much more reasonable prices than theaters. Offering a variety of spectacles, not just classical music, but also choirs, dance, masked balls, acrobatics, and even fireworks, people thirsty for culture flocked to the park regardless of social class.
Having only heard of it and too busy making a living to be greatly interested in cultural pursuits, this was Rick’s first time at such a concert. Miller walked towards the entrance and said,
“Shall we go in?”
“Into the park? How?”
“There are many ways to get in for free.”
Miller curled his lips into a smirk, staring chillingly at the ticket inspector. Sinister intentions swirled within that smirk.
“Red, blue, black. Tell me your desired color, Ricky. I’ll break through there according to your choice.”
The devil posed an enigmatic question. Blood. Bruises. Death. These were the only words Rick could imagine upon hearing the colors the devil mentioned. Just how cruel could the devil be? Unsure, Rick had a strong premonition that something fatal might occur if he made a request. In the end, he grabbed the devil and shook his head.
Deciding to ask how much the tickets cost for the sake of national peace, Rick hesitantly approached the ticket booth. The clerk asked,
“Do you need a ticket? How many people?”
“…Two… no, one.”
“Standing is 1 shilling, balcony is 2 shillings. Reserved seating is 5 shillings, do you have a reservation?”
“No… Standing will be fine.”
Fortunately, he had that much money. Rick, who had been imagining the expensive ticket prices of the theater, was relieved at the price, which was several times cheaper, and his tense expression relaxed. Besides, the devil was invisible to others, so his admission was free. Rick, beaming, paid 1 shilling from his pocket and bought a ticket.
“Thank you.”
Rick received the ticket from the clerk, thanked him, and turned around. The ticket inspector’s gaze lingered on Rick’s retreating figure. Miller, watching the clerk, chuckled and asked Rick,
“How does it feel to go from a homeless person with no house or church to a man full of sin?”
“Full of sin? I bought a ticket legitimately. You don’t have to buy one anyway since you’re invisible to other people, right?”
“…….”
Miller was speechless at Rick’s bewilderment, which was completely out of context. Whether Miller responded or not, Rick was too preoccupied with examining the ticket in his hand.