Chapter 255: Sacred Joy

Through the brilliant lights shining down on the stage, that so-called “beautiful woman” of a violinist seemed bathed in a mesmerizing glow.

Even with her face blurred out like a mosaic fog, the long black evening gown she wore—though not revealing—showed off her perfect curves vividly. And even such a slimming shade of black could not conceal the towering peaks at her chest in the slightest.

When she slowly raised her violin, it felt less like she was placing it against her collarbone and jaw, and more like she was setting it directly on top of those lofty mountains.

It looked as though she could actually rest milk tea cups there. At least two!

But this kind of grand presence... felt a little ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) familiar somehow.

Muen stroked his chin, unconsciously beginning to think.

But he quickly shook such thoughts from his mind.

Identifying people by their chest size? No matter how you looked at it, that was too absurd. He wasn’t the protagonist of some eroge blessed with bizarre talents.

Besides, the performance was about to begin.

The “beautiful woman” violinist looked somewhat nervous, drawing several deep breaths, which only made the scene at her chest more breathtaking.

But the instant she set her bow to the strings, everything fell still.

It was as if an invisible domain spread outward, plunging the world into absolute silence.

The angry patrons from just a moment ago all calmed at once, their gazes involuntarily fixed upon the performer.

And then, the music began.

Like flowing water, the sound washed over everyone in an instant.

Muen’s eyes lit up sharply. All at once, it was as though he was no longer sitting in that cramped, dim restaurant, but standing atop the boundless sea.

Waves surged. Surf roared.

The blue ocean and blue sky wove together into a scene of flawless purity.

Then, where sea and sky met, a light appeared.

Not sunlight. Not starlight.

It seemed to be the essence of all that was holy in the world, light that could purify every stain of the soul—holy radiance.

Muen felt himself being purified.

Naizi?

Hmph, that was nothing but corruption blocking my path forward.

I don’t need that at all—

Wait!

Muen suddenly jolted, snapping back to himself. What the hell, was he really about to get enlightened just by listening to music?

He instinctively turned his head, glancing at the other guests.

And realized it wasn’t just him. The other patrons sat listening intently to the bewitching performance, their earlier rage long gone, replaced by serene calm, eyes glowing as if they beheld a goddess’s guidance.

Even Shaun, who only moments ago had been dwelling on the pain of losing his wife, now wore a dazed expression and a gentle smile, as though basking in the happiest vision buried in the depths of his heart.

What the hell?

Was the music’s influence really this strong?

No.

Muen turned back again, studying the elegant “beautiful woman” on stage.

As the son of a duke, Muen naturally had some musical education. He could clearly tell her technique truly was outstanding, worthy of the title “musician.”

But no matter how skilled, such playing could not possibly cleanse hearts and make people glimpse paradise.

For music to resonate, the performer must pour in equal emotion. Yet her face was hidden, and she hadn’t infused much feeling at all.

She was playing formulaically. And still, the sound moved hearts so deeply.

Something was mixed into the music.

Muen narrowed his eyes.

But even as he focused, he couldn’t detect any trace of magical fluctuation or strange aura coming from the “beautiful woman” violinist.

Still, the deeper she played, the stronger that sensation became—that her whole being radiated light.

As if every casual gesture let flawless holy radiance spill forth, automatically purging the world’s filth.

Wait.

Holy radiance?

Muen’s eyes widened. It was like he had suddenly grasped something.

...

The piece ended.

The restaurant fell into deathly silence.

And then, as the “beautiful woman” clutched her violin and offered a nervous bow, the atmosphere instantly erupted.

Thunderous applause crashed like waves, laced with cries of admiration and even sobs, nearly blowing the roof off.

Even Shaun beside Muen wiped tears from his eyes as he clapped hard, exclaiming:

“What wondrous music! I felt as though my departed wife had returned from the dead, smiling at me once again.”

“...”

Muen gave no reply. His eyes flickered thoughtfully, then he beckoned over a waiter who was running around frantically trying to keep order.

“Can you call that violinist over here?”

“Uh...”

The waiter wiped sweat from his brow, his usual trained professional smile nowhere to be found, his expression bitter.

“Esteemed guest, I understand your enthusiasm—everyone feels the same. But according to our establishment’s rules, guests cannot disturb the performers. Otherwise...”

Clack.

Muen dropped a thick wad of bills onto the waiter’s tray. “That’s a tip.”

The waiter’s eyes went wide, throat working as he swallowed hard.

“Th-this... isn’t proper...”

Clack.

“Our restaurant’s rules—”

Clack.

“I’ve seen plenty of rich folk, but you still can’t just—”

Clack clack clack clack...

“I—I’ll go right now! I’ll definitely bring her to you!”

Clutching the tray piled high like a small mountain of cash, the waiter bolted away.

Soon, Muen saw him skulking by the stage, whispering to the “beautiful woman.”

He couldn’t hear the words or see clearly what was happening.

But he could tell the violinist refused at first.

Until the waiter shoved something into her arms. Then again. And again, several times.

Though it wasn’t as many times as Muen had tossed money, she eventually agreed.

She began walking this way.

She looked uneasy, but under some unseen pressure—or perhaps remembering something—her steps held a certain firmness.

Only, the moment she stepped past the edge of the bright stage lights, crossing from brilliance into shadow, she suddenly froze.

Normally, standing in the light made it nearly impossible to see into darkness without special means.

So when she entered the dimness, she finally saw Muen’s face.

The face she never could have expected.

Her delicate body began to tremble.

Trembling and trembling.

Like a mouse confronted with a cat—her heaving chest trembling even more dramatically.

She looked like she might turn and flee at any moment. But whether compelled by something else, or recalling something, she drew a deep breath and still came to stand carefully before Muen.

Even with her face obscured, Muen could strangely sense a pitiful fragility emanating from her.

“What is it?”

Muen arched a brow, giving the trembling “beautiful woman” another once-over, curiosity in his tone.

“Do I have something horrifying on my face?”

“N-no.”

Her voice rang clear as a songbird’s.

Then she faltered, and suddenly her voice shifted, becoming strange and hoarse:

“I was just a little... surprised, that’s all.”

“Surprised?”

Muen looked at her with a half-smile, swirling his wine glass lazily as he said:

“Now that’s interesting. The word ‘surprised’... are you implying that I, by some stroke of luck, am known to you, great performer?”