Solo Swordmaster
Chapter 77: Partner

Amidst the silence that could make an ant’s footsteps audible, Limon slightly lifted his head.

“How was that?” he blurted.

“What?”

“I asked, did that song sound like loud noise to you?”

It seemed they finally remembered the bet they made with Limon.

In front row seats, they sat with the most stunned expressions as realization struck them. They exchanged looks between one another.

The bet was supposed to be a piece of cake. A no-brainer. All they had to do was claim that Limon’s performance was pathetic; no more than ‘loud noise’. Music was subjective, after all—they could just claim they didn’t personally like it. However—

“Th-This is cheating.”

“Cheating? Your meaning?”

“You said you would show us a performance without using any skills.”

“Huh? Was there a skill just now?”

“Of course, man! How could he sing like that without using a skill?!”

A mediocre song could not be transformed in such a way unless a skill was involved. The three men were disqualifying the bet. In their heads, Limon had violated it first. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ N0ᴠᴇFɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

In return, Limon did not retort or get angry. Instead, a smile appeared on his face.

“Sounds like our performance was as excellent as one done with skills.”

“…That’s irrelevant. The point is where you used a skill or not.”

“Is it? Does it really matter?”

“What does that mean?”

“If there was a musical skill involved, that means that we have the right to perform here. And if there wasn’t, we proved that a performance without skills can be as good as one performed by a player.”

“…!”

The three men were thunderstruck.

“Well, if you really think it was cheating, I won’t stop you. I’ll apologize and back off,” Limon chuckled at them.

Tilting his head slightly, he glanced at the audience behind them smiling suggestively.

“If you’re confident enough to perform here after us, that is.”

The three men turned to the audience to rebuke, only for the cat to get their tongue again. The sleeping streets were now alive, jam-packed with people watching. They were met with several looks of discontent, people frustrated they were unable to clap or cry out for an encore. They lost their breaths.

‘He wants us to play?’

‘In front of all these people?’

‘After a song like that?’

The three men broke out in a dry sweat. They realized that they had been tricked by Limon. Bamboozled.

‘He got us…!’

‘That bastard didn’t make a bet to win in the first place. All he needed was a chance to perform.’

Even though they finally understood Limon’s intentions, it only left them with several more questions.

It might have been a ‘trick’, but gathering such a massive audience with a single song was something you had to be confident in to achieve. They had to also make sure that it surpassed anything they could have played.

Such arrogance… It made no sense.

‘It would make sense if he were a high-level player with a musical skill…’

Obviously. Unless they were some famous celeb, it was near impossible for an unknown musician to garner such a big audience without skills.

‘…Was that performance really the work of a skill, though?’

Limon’s boastful talk about ‘showing a performance without skills’, his ever-present arrogance, and most importantly, the feeling that lingered in their hearts afterwards. It was something they had never experienced before.

It made them wonder, ‘Could it be?’

“So… your answer?”

On one hand, they could feel the pressure of countless eyes boring into their spines. The doubt was growing within them with each passing second. On the other, their pride as musicians and the burden of a performance weighed on each other.

“Sigh… Do you take requests?” they asked, defeat all over their faces.

Before they were musicians, they were still human. They could not deny the temptation of another performance.

And thus marked the beginning of an endless sea of requests spurred on by hundreds and hundreds of people.

***

***

“What a mess.”

“[…You should be the last person to be saying that, boss.]”

“Why?”

“[Well, you’re the cause of this mess.]”

“How so? I just played a few songs those kids asked for.”

“[Tsk! There’s a limit to encore, my god! Who keeps the show going for over six hours?!]”

Though, it had been closer to nine hours. Most performers would have already broken their fingers or suffered muscle spasms long ago. Well, most humans. The body of a Swordmaster was simply superior. Limon hadn’t broken a single sweat.

“[Look at all these people laid out here! Thanks to you!]”

Unfortunately, that also meant that not everyone was as capable as a Swordmaster.

Had they been on the fence about the show, most would have left after hearing a little. But the strangely appeasing harmony made them want to just a bit more. And more. And a little more after that.

Soon enough, nine hours had passed—enough time for the audience to kick back.

“‘Laid’ is quite the word to use. They just found seats to rest on.”

“[But that’s what ‘laid back’ means!]”

Sitting down for a quick rest was reasonable, but taking chairs and tables from nearby restaurants and cafes? Chalk it up to a little of that ‘spontaneity’ like Limon had experienced, perhaps.

And after taking them, even ordering from the stores. Food, drinks, hell, liquor.

And as more and more people gathered…

It was long past midnight, and yet the crowd was bustling. ‘Streets of Music’? More like ‘Streets of Drinking’.

“[Why, is this some kind of festival? Are you making a booze fest on purpose?]”

“Right? Kids these days have no conscience at all. Should’ve offered me some too.”

“[That really ought to be the biggest thing on your mind right now?!]”

“Yep. I gave them my precious time for a free performance. It’s rather sad if I can’t get a single drop in a party I started.”

“[Oh, so you agree that this was all your doing?!]”

Limon and Yoo Na-kyung went back and forth several more times when a can of beer was held in front of his face.

“Wanna drink, Mr. Lone Wolf?”

“…’Lone Wolf’?”

“Hm. Do you like ‘King of the Beasts’ better? ‘Aloof Tiger’?”

“Not the species. I meant why you’re comparing me to an animal.”

“That’s the vibe you give off. That’s why everyone else is just watching you from afar. because they can’t come up to you that casually.”

Limon had no words at the man’s nonchalant response.

“[Yeah, you do look pretty vicious, boss.]”

‘I do? I even changed my appearance to blend in better!’

“[Heh, you’re funny. You think a dragon in wolf’s clothing would look any friendlier to a bunny?]”

‘……’

Limon considered plucking off all the feathers of his blue pigeon. He let out a small sigh. Taking the can of cold beer, he spoke to his fellow performer.

“Call me Lee.”

“I’m Eugene. With love, call me bud.”

To finally exchange names after hours of performing together. Quite the pair. In fact, they were the most energized of everyone there. Though, they didn’t seem to take notice.

They simply clinked beer cans side by side and continued with their conversation.

“Thanks for the guitar.”

“Sure. You made really good use of it. I never knew my guitar could play like that.” “That’s because your guitar skills are a mess. Actually, why do you play like that? It would be better to leave the background music to a phonograph and just sing.”

“A phonograph…?”

“You know, those machines that play music. Like a record or CD.”

“Oh, an amp? I don’t use that stuff. There’s no soul in the music if its not live.”

“‘Soul’, huh? I like that.”

Limon let out a laugh. In a bygone age where a good song was determined on a musician’s talent and technical skill, hearing Eugene talk about ‘soul’ so matter-of-factly made him delightful. It was such an outdated word, even for the likes of him.

“Today’s a lucky day.”

“Cause you didn’t get kicked out?”

“Because I could really enjoy singing for the first time in a long while. But, yeah. That too. And also because I’ve got a fantastic guitarist for a partner.”

“‘Partner’?”

“Hm? Well, duh. You’re my music partner now.”

“Who?”

“You, bud.”

“Since…?”

“Maybe ever since you showed a hell of a performance with my guitar?”

Eugene beamed. He was simply amused when Limon first asked for his guitar. But it could not compare to the thrill and ecstacy that surged within himself the moment he started singing along. It blew away any other thoughts he had.

“You see, I’ve already become someone who can’t be content without you. Now, you have to take accountability.”

“Could you not talk in such an intimate manner?”

“But it’s the truth.” Unlike his tone, Eugene’s eyes were serious.

“Even if you say so… Music is just a hobby for me. I have no plans for a debut.” Limon scratched his cheek.

“Oh, that’s even better. I don’t care about that either.”

“And it’ll be hard to meet up once my job gets busy.”

“That’s okay. I’m a freelancer, I’ll match my schedule to yours.”

“…”

Talking to a wall. As if Eugene had been possessed by a trainer trapping Limon in a red ball with a “that’s fine, just be my partner!”

Limon observed him nod with that bright smile of his.

‘I was going to end my training.’

He now knew what his music lacked. How hard it would be to work on. Limon was going to wrap up his sightseeing and officially begin dominating the Seven Dragons Association. He would be unbelievably busier than he was now. There would be no time for messing around like this anymore.

But despite all of that…

‘Who knew I’d find a key to my training through this little stunt.’

While he was performing with Eugene, the starlight fragments within his body dissolved further. He could feel another Constellation’s power within his grasp. And add on the fact that it had reacted to a regular instrument—this was a big step forward.

‘I don’t know if they’re reacting to the music or the person playing it, but…’

Limon crossed his arms. Of course, there wasn’t a guarantee he would see progress just because of Eugene. But for someone standing against a powerful enemy like the Constellations, he had to take all the chances he got.

And so after a brief moment of thought, Limon asked.

“Then… Do you mind if it’s an instrument other than the guitar?”

Limon Asphelder—the man who’d only gripped a sword for centuries on end —was picking up a hobby.

——

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