Solo Swordmaster

Chapter 75: A performance impossible to play, even in death.

‘Hm. He’s not very good.’

There sat a performer in jeans and an oversized hoodie, the hood up. He was awkwardly strumming the guitar.

Limon crossed his arms. Thanks to watching all kinds of performances, Limon had grown an eye for distinguishing music—and the guitarist lacked quite a bit. He was barely just better than a beginner, at best. It was even worse than the guitarist of the indie band he had grown sick of.

‘But it doesn’t bother me.’

but Limon did not walk away. He simply listened with his arms crossed. It was the first performer Limon had found who did not make use of skills.

‘I’ve been listening to so much dogshit these days that even this purifies my eardrums,’ Limon chuckled.

He didn’t hear any of the disharmony that came from music skills. That by itself was enough reason to stay and listen, even if it was a substandard performance.

But he couldn’t just stand back and watch sluggishly for long.

Don’t look at me—

(Don’t look at me)

The performer opened his mouth. Limon felt his eyes widen.

I’m not lonely—

I’m not bothered—

Don’t look at me like that—

(I’m not lonely)

(I’m not in agony)

(So don’t look at me like that)

His husky voice rang through the air, raw. He wasn’t making use of a microphone, or any amps. His voice was much too calm compared to the bustling streets and much too coarse to attract any attention. No one even spared a look at him.

‘This…’

Watching the neglected performer, Limon’s face contorted into an inexplicable expression.

It wasn’t that he was good. The lyrics were clumsy, poorly written. Even his voice wasn’t particularly all that nice. Overall, it was incredibly subpar. It would have been easier to find a reason to not listen.

But Limon saw it. The man’s face lit up in delight, like he had the world in his hands as soon as he began singing. And he heard it—the harmony of it all. What sounded awkward turned into a beautiful resonance as it blended with his voice.

‘I see.’

The music was only halfway there. It may have improved, but adding five and five to make ten in a society where everyone had perfect scores of 100 was ultimately meaningless.

But at the very least, in this moment—

The man’s song was creeping its way into Limon’s heart, just like Julia’s had.

‘So that’s what she meant when she told me to love music.’

Something that surpassed technique and talent—a power that made the guitarist comparable to a first-class violinist like Julia… Singing as he felt like, disregarding the notes and rhythm. It only served to make the piece all the more pure and emotional.

Feeling himself sympathizing with the man, Limon came to an understanding, and revealed a bittersweet smile.

‘This is a performance I won’t be able to compare to, even in death.’

It seemed like Limon had finally realized why his violin skills stopped improving. The performer was but a youth expressing himself with his pure love for music, while he was just a sly, old swordsman.

He could learn all everything there was to learn, but nothing would change. The better he gets at hiding himself, the more vulnerable he’d become to being seen. That was what aging meant.

That was why the elderly always envy the youth—the same went for Limon. His youth had ended in the Bronze Age.

‘I’m a little jealous.’

And the guitarist’s pure passion turned his envy into something more—into coal black jealousy.

‘Jealousy, huh… I haven’t felt that in a while now, have I?’

In the Iron Age, he had not once felt jealous or envious seeing the masses use skills to solve all of their problems.

Limon laughed, continuing to listen to the guitarist.

Don’t look back—

There’s nothing to tell me.

There’s nothing to hold me.

Look at me and smile like that—

(Don’t look back)

(You don’t have to tell me anything)

(There’s no one to hold me back)

(So just keep laughing at me like that)

He unforgivingly sang on, playing his guitar with pure, unfiltered joy. Maybe the music was an absolute mess. Maybe it was unbearable to listen to.

No one else listened to his performance besides Limon, and even those passers-by who stopped to listen would immediately lose interest.

But the music did not stop. One audience member was enough. Or perhaps he just enjoyed performing in itself. He continued singing and playing his guitar endlessly.

‘What a shame it is.’

Limon became let down as the guitarist’s emotions grew stronger and stronger in his music.

What if a performer who could sing such a song with poor technique like that, gets professional lessons? What kind of music would he be able to play if he worked on his lacking techniques?

‘Who knew I’d be thinking like this from just a song.’

A bittersweet smile formed on his face once again. He’d felt this kind of disappointment before many times. Prodigies who never did spread their wings when he taught as the master of the Sword Tower, and brilliant minds whose obstacles were too high to climb.

But this was the first time he’d felt disappointed in a talent that wasn’t swordsmanship, much less combat and government administration.

‘If I was Julia…’

If the woman who loved music more than anybody else heard this piece, she would have done everything in her power to make him bloom. After all, she had refunded all the lesson fees and lodging expenses, citing that she hadn’t taught anything.

‘No, that’s useless to think about.’

Limon wasn’t Julia. There was no reason for him to be so meddlesome when he’d only learned the violin out of necessity. Especially now, when he knew his skills wouldn’t improve any further.

“[Ack? Are you leaving, boss?]”

“Yeah.”

That was why Limon turned around. It felt like he wouldn’t be able to move on if he stayed and listened any longer.

“[But the performance isn’t over yet.]”

“And? This is nowhere near the first time I’m leaving in the middle of one.”

“[Yeah, but still…]”

Yoo-Nakyung’s head tilted to the side. It had been the first song Limon hadn’t complained about.

But he didn’t say anything else, either. Rather, he just kept moving. He wanted to get away.

“Huh? What’s this? Someone took our spot again?”

“Looks like another rookie.”

“Ugh, shit. It’s always the blind beginners with big balls and no skill. He’s a real fighter, that one.”

“I mean, he’s not bad for a beginner.”

“My fucking ass. His tone’s complete dogshit.”

Limon stopped dead in his tracks. A group of three with a guitar, bass, and amp in their hands were talking in front of the performer.

“Excuse me, let’s have a talk.”

“Hey, we’re not picking a fight or anything with you, okay?”

“Now don’t act like you didn’t hear us. This is our spot, you know. You wanna get up anytime soon?”

Regardless of what they said, the performer did not stop his music. Like he couldn’t hear them, or maybe he didn’t care about them—he only continued to strum his guitar and belting out his emotions through song.

“Tsk. Talking doesn’t work on this guy.”

“Hey, I said let’s talk!”

They were either irritated by the performer’s ignorant attitude, or realized it would just be a waste of time to keep talking. They grabbed the guitar and forced it out of his hands.

Or at least, they tried to.

“Oi, kids.”

If only it weren’t for the two arms that suddenly appeared around them.

***

***

“Just to make sure… Are you robbing a good civilian out of his fortune and committing violence right now?”

“Wh-What the?!”

‘What is this strength? Is he a high-level player?’

Instinctively, they tried to break free. But it felt like they were stuck in hard concrete. They took turns glancing towards each other, until all three pairs of their eyes landed on the black-haired man behind them.

“A-Ahem! Look, big man. I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding.”

“We were just trying to have a talk. A talk, that’s all.”

“Hm. Is that what you youngsters call interrupting someone else’s performance and stealing their instrument?”

Limon glanced down at the two people whose hands were trying to take the guitar. A chilling smile appeared on his face. His gaze was more terrifying than the impact of a hundred words. Their fists clenched in fear as they tried to excuse their actions.

“That’s why it was a misunderstanding, sir.”

“We just wanted to talk about the performance. Isn’t that right, Jungjun?!”

“Th-That’s right.”

“Really? Then I guess I misunderstood the whole thing.”

The three men collectively let out a sigh of relief.

“That’s good. Now you know—”

“Talk about what, though?”

“I’m sorry?”

“What were you going to talk about that warranted interrupting someone’s performance? I don’t think that’s what a fellow musician would do.”

Grip—

His voice sounded like he was genuinely curious.

The two people on his side contorted their faces.

Unlike hsi composed tone, the grip on their shoulders got tighter and tighter.

If it hurt enough to leave a mark, they could have screamed. But all it felt like was the pressure of a rough massage—it was hard to even resist properly.

And so, they replied nicer than intended.

“Uhm, I’m sure you know, sir, but this is the streets of music.”

“That’s right, isn’t it free for anyone to play music?”

“Yeah, but there tends to be a lot of tagrags. It’s turned into the streets of racket!”

“So we musicians negotiated between each other. Only one team will perform in a certain territory.”

“…So you have to get granted territory by some dude with the highest seniority to perform here?”

“Yes.”

Limon furrowed his brows. His aged experience told him what exactly was going wrong here.

“Hey, just out of curiosity—do you have to pay for that?”

“Well, not exactly. But all of us pay as much as we can out of courtesy whenever we put in a request.”

“And that decides whether you get a good or bad spot?”

“Uh, uhm. Not on paper…”

“‘On paper’?”

“…”

The three men’s eyes slowly avoided Limon’s. That was enough to be an answer.

Limon clicked his tongue. Even in a self-made group of musicians, it all came down to being an evil of long standing, run with bribery. Regardless of generation, art was a field that was as easy to extort as sex.

“Then what about this makes it the ‘streets of music’, huh?”

“I’m not really sure what you mean…”

“It’s not like we made the rules…”

It wasn’t like there was anything they could do or say about the rules. Limon’s brows furrowed at their drab excuses. The three men quickly added on as they observed Limon’s reactions.

“But they never force us to pay them. A corner like this is basically free, and the spot application is just a formality.”

“Really?”

“Yes. they share most of the spots as long as you have a music skill.”

“They might give you a good spot for cheap if you have a unique skill or have a high level.”

“…”

‘They could get a spot for a good price if it wasn’t a busy day.’

‘It was the performer’s fault for breaking the rules, not theirs.’

Some parts of it was an excuse, but it was completely understandable.

Except for one part.

“And if they don’t?”

“What?”

“So what if they don’t have a music skill?”

“Uh…”

Maybe it was the absurdity of his question. Perhaps it was his eyes that glared even harsher than before. The three men stuttered to answer.

“They get kicked out, I guess?”

“Someone without a musical skill wouldn’t apply for a spot in the first place.”

“Why would someone without skills play music? This isn’t the place for such a joke.”

“Yeah, it’s because of those ridiculous rascals’ noise pollution that these rules were made in the first place.”

“Unless they spend a fortune for it… But someone with that kind of money wouldn’t pay to perform in the streets.”

The three men seemed taken aback to even have to answer such an obvious question. They had a look of confidence in their faces as the onlookers nodded in agreement. But in the next moment, they could only freeze.

“Music played without a skill is just noise and doesn’t deserve to be played, even in the streets…”

His chilling voice, his razor sharp gaze, and most notably—

A twisted smile of pure, unrelenting disgust curled the corners of his lips.

“That’s grand of you to say, really.”

The three men gulped as Limon continued in a tranquil voice.

“Just out of curiosity, do you guys piss and shit all over yourselves if you don’t use a fucking skill?”

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