I Became a Plagiarizing Composer in Another World Chapter 18

Chapter 18

 

The left hand gently pressed down on the keyboard.

A soft harmony spread out.

The right hand, light and agile, danced over the keys as if brushing off dew drops from leaves, delicately teasing the ears.

Aria’s lips slowly parted.

Her gaze fixed on the stage.

She followed the performer’s movements.

The melody she heard every night outside the window.

The performance she had to concentrate all her attention on just to catch a faint glimpse.

That mirage-like scene now unfolded vividly before her eyes.

The sound soaked into her skin and pierced her heart deeply.

Memories bloomed like clouds on a summer day.

Aria furrowed her brows at the indescribable emotions welling up inside.

And yet,

She wished it wouldn’t end.

She hoped this moment would never end.

She clasped her hands together and prayed to the Goddess.

The slowly repeating melody grew faster and faster.

The once calm waves had become a raging tide.

Before she knew it, she snapped out of her reverie.

“Aria?”

“Huh…?”

Everything had come to a stop.

What was flowing down her cheeks? Tears?

As if she had been reborn, the world seemed unfamiliar, the theatre’s scent and the texture of the chair under her hands.

Everything felt foreign.

The other children had already left; there wasn’t a single one remaining.

“You must have really enjoyed the Performance,”

the director said.

And then,

“Thank you.”

A deep, low voice came from the performer.

Thank you?

All she did was sit quietly until the performance ended.

Aria rose from her seat.

She stretched out her arms and took the performer’s hands.

She remembered reading about this in a book before.

How to show courtesy and gratitude properly to someone.

With an awkward posture, she bent one knee.

Then, she placed a soft kiss on the performer’s warm hand.

“Thank you very Much.”

It was a clumsy, but the sincerest expression of gratitude she had ever given.

 

T/n: I got Tears, No kiddin…

 

***

“Erdi.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

When they returned home, Erdi was already there, as expected.

They went up to the room together.

“What’s the matter? You’ve been staring at the ceiling since a while ago.”

“Music is such a wonderful thing. Don’t you think so?”

“…It certainly is, but—”

Erdi hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“Your expression seems different from usual, Young Master.”

“Something like that happened.”

How moving it was to receive the gratitude of a child’s pure heart.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“Hehe.”

It felt as if he had been enveloped in some kind of invigorating aura.

More effective than a healing spell from a Saintess.

“Young Master?”

“Well, anyway, Erdi.”

Realizing that he might be seen as a madman if he continued in this state, Anton quickly shifted the topic.

“Take this.”

He handed Erdi a pouch filled with gold coins.

“This is your share.”

He had received a lot of help so far.

From transcribing sheet music to providing ideas.

Despite his own exceptional skills, Erdi had willingly assisted Anton without hesitation.

Effort should always be rewarded fairly.

“Is this really all for me?”

“Too little?”

“Not at all. It’s too much, actually.”

“Just think of it as a generous donation from an anonymous noble.”

“That noble must be a saint.”

Of course, he is.

He bought up hundreds of sheet music copies.

An outstanding benefactor, indeed.

“I’m in a good mood today, so let’s go slice some boar meat. Come, Erdi!”

“Yes!”

***

Silence enveloped the room.

A single candle illuminated the darkness.

Edward sat at the table, poring over the ledger, and let out a small exclamation.

‘This is truly remarkable.’

The theatre’s revenue had significantly increased recently.

It wasn’t just a slight increase.

Every day, a new record high was set.

‘It’s all thanks to the young master.’

All of the performances were sold out, and the two editions of sheet music that were released became bestsellers in less than a day.

To say they were raking in money would not be an exaggeration.

Noble families lined up to sponsor the young master, and letters flooded in daily, all seeking information about his next performance.

Now, there wasn’t a soul in the capital who didn’t know the name Anton Tilburg.

But the real admiration Edward felt was for Anton’s attitude towards music.

He opened up what had been a domain exclusively for the nobility to the public, inviting even the children from a poor orphanage to the theatre without asking for a single penny.

‘He didn’t take a single cent.’

There was no sign of Hesitation.

Although he had met countless performers, this had never happened before.

For those who made a living through the arts, being recognized in social circles was their sole purpose.

Even though they didn’t show it outwardly, it was obvious.

If they didn’t perform for the nobles and patrons who visited the theatre, then for whom were they performing?

It was natural to ignore commoners who did not contribute to their honour.

It was customary. An unspoken rule.

But the young master was different.

“Aren’t they people who appreciate my music? What does it matter what their status is?”

He did not discriminate against anyone.

‘Perhaps that’s the difference between the young master and Lord Kosolin.’

Victor Kosolin was considered a promising performer, but he was only popular among the nobility and practically invisible to commoners.

‘Has there ever been a performer who was so universally loved by all the citizens of the Empire?’

Edward recalled the unbelievable sight he had witnessed earlier that morning.

The image of the small girl bowing her head and kissing the back of the young master’s hand.

It was the highest form of courtesy—a gesture reserved for expressing gratitude to someone who had saved your life.

‘Has the young master’s performance saved her?’

Edward’s thoughts grew more complex.

‘If that’s the case, it can’t just end like this.’

He had witnessed with his own eyes how music connected people and changed someone’s future.

If the young master’s goal was to bring good music to more people.

If it could change the world.

Then it was his duty to pave that path for him.

The next morning, Edward left the theatre with a renewed determination.

***

“What brings you here?”

Edward had come to the manor.

It was rare to meet him anywhere other than the theatre.

“There’s something I’d like to discuss briefly.”

“It must be an urgent matter then.”

Despite the seriousness, his expression was bright.

Although he wanted to treat him to a meal if possible, considering the time, he guided Edward to the Parlor instead.

“Young Master.”

“Yes?”

Seated on the sofa, Edward spoke first.

“What do you think about organizing a provincial tour?”

“…What?”

A provincial tour?

He was suggesting they hold concerts in various territories far from the capital.

In other words, a nationwide tour.

“Your music isn’t only popular in the capital. You can tell just by counting the number of provincial lords who come to every solo recital.”

“That’s true.”

“If so, why not bring the performances to them instead of having them come to our theatre?”

Thus, the idea of a provincial tour was born.

It wasn’t a bad idea.

The more regions they travelled to, the more audiences they could reach with their music.

And there was another reason.

‘I’m curious to see what other regions look like.’

Having never left the vicinity of the capital, Anton felt a sense of excitement at Edward’s proposal.

To call it a tour but think of it as a journey.

“However, the process seems quite complicated.”

There were several issues that needed to be resolved first if they were to carry out this plan.

For one, transporting a grand piano that weighed several hundred kilograms every time would be a significant challenge.

Finding a suitable venue for performances was another.

“Leave the transportation to me. I know a capable coachman.”

“Then, all we need is a venue.”

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be a theatre, does it?”

“…What?”

Coming from the theatre manager himself, this was an unexpected suggestion.

But Anton decided to hear him out.

“We could use churches or town squares. We could even borrow the Lords’ Estates.”

“Borrow a lord’s estate?”

Was that even possible?

It was like saying they should hold a concert at their own home or at Count Haverland’s estate.

“Just leave it to me, like always.”

Edward spoke with such confidence.

It seemed reliable enough.

There didn’t appear to be any significant downside.

Besides, if Edward was pushing so passionately, it meant he had given it serious thought.

He wasn’t just a theatre owner; he was a businessman.

“Let’s do it!”

“There’s one more thing.”

Edward’s expression hardened, and his voice lowered.

“What is it?”

“For this provincial tour, I plan to drastically lower ticket prices.”

“How much lower?”

“One silver coin per person.”

“…Are you out of your mind?”

That was practically giving it away for free.

In the capital, the most you could buy with a single silver coin would be a newspaper or a flimsy, cheap magazine.

Although Anton didn’t mind, as money was never his motive for performing, Edward’s loss would be significant.

Forget what he said about being a businessman.

“That way, not only the nobles but also commoners would be able to come and listen to your performance. It’s an opportunity to spread the beauty of music to more people.”

“Are you planning to become penniless?”

“I won’t go bankrupt from this.”

Edward adjusted his posture and took a sip of tea.

“You said it yourself. If only the nobles can enjoy it, it’s not true culture.”

He was right.

He remembered saying that.

“Right now, you are the Empire’s culture. I feel it’s my duty to spread that to as many people as possible.”

As soon as Edward finished speaking, a heavy silence filled the room.

There was no intention of refuting him.

However—

“The nobles will strongly oppose it. Just this morning, I saw in the newspaper that someone even protested in front of the monastery because we allowed orphans into the theatre.”

“What a way to ruin a good mood.”

“Exactly.”

“But, Young Master, you don’t care about such things, do you?”

That was true.

I had only brought it up to gauge his reaction.

In any case, since Edward was willing to go this far, there was no reason to refuse.

“I suppose I’ll have to prepare a few new pieces.”

“Excellent.”

And so, preparations for the provincial tour began.

 

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Chapter 18
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