I Start with a Bad Hand!

“To Degoph. I appreciate your brief greeting. But if it were me, I wouldn’t dive straight into the point like that.”

Enough already. Get to the main point.

“These days, flowers are in full bloom in Sereti. Spring in Sereti is literary in itself…”

There are flowers here in the Empire too.

“But I’ve been thinking. Despite having exceptional talent and a family that can support it, doing something I don’t want to do…”

Seriously, career advice? Talk to your teacher…

“I’m planning to visit the Empire again this spring. If you have time, perhaps we could meet…”

I skimmed the lengthy letter at an angle, flipping through three pages before I found the answer I was looking for.

“P.S. About that herb you sent… Where did you find such an old relic? It was popular among old folks before I was even born.”

“An old relic…?”

I frowned at the unexpected words. Old folks? How rude.

‘But Hayden definitely said…’

Pushing aside the rising doubts, I continued reading the letter. It ended with, ‘No one buys such things anymore unless they’re making it themselves.’ Following that, the letter concluded with a note saying they were looking forward to my reply.

Inside the envelope was a short note saying, ‘Try this instead,’ along with a tobacco blend popular among Sereti teenagers. Crushing the tobacco in one hand, I tried to formulate a hypothesis to explain this situation.

‘So, is this like the equivalent of Esse cigarettes in this world? Something only old people smoke?’

Though it wasn’t a perfect analogy, it seemed reasonable. I recalled the time when some teenagers stole all the cigarettes from the convenience store where I worked, except for the Esse brand…

“Where did you find such an old relic? It was popular among old folks before I was even born.”

I reread the part that had caught my attention. So, if I assumed a minimum of 17 or 18 years, maybe stretching it to 20 years…

My fingers, which had been tapping the letter, slowed down. Even if it wasn’t about the herb, there were things popular in the Empire during that time.

“Planning to paint with Leveta Blue, are you? Oh my, how did you know about such an old-fashioned method that only the elderly would appreciate? We don’t handle those anymore.”

“This is an old formula used only in the Thomple Empire. Nowadays, with easier access to blue pigments, we don’t need to mix various ingredients like we did a few decades ago when blue dye was rare.”

The blue paint… Leveta was also said to be a fad from a bygone era. The paint that both the painter and the keeper of the painted portraits ended up contracting symptoms similar to tuberculosis from, leading to its disuse in the Empire. The paint used maliciously to paint Dietrich’s portrait and handed to the Baron and Baroness Degoph. 

Paint used only by the older generation of painters. Tobacco smoked only by grandfathers.

‘Was there an event that caused such a shift in behavior in a particular generation?’

However, the people who visited the Degoph castle and the person who came to Rhymers Street were said to be students my age. How did they know about these old things? As I wracked my brain, I finally stood up. It was too early to connect these two events simply because they were once popular.

‘Besides, Hayden is Dietrich’s age too… Even if it’s the tobacco, how would he know about Leveta, which was only popular in the Empire?’

For now, I decided to put this matter aside and left the dormitory. The burdens on my shoulders were not limited to this mystery alone.

***

‘What’s with the atmosphere?’

The air in the drama rehearsal room was not just tense but desolate. From the moment I entered, I sensed something was off. Near the stage, I saw Nancy crying and Agnes standing awkwardly, unable to comfort her.

I mouthed “What happened?” to Francesco, one of the few remaining actors, who stood just as awkwardly in the oppressive air. He whispered back, “I don’t know,” looking just as bewildered.

Agnes seemed to notice my entrance only after hearing our whispered exchange. I gestured for an explanation, and with a short sigh, she replied.

“Some of the few actors we had… they quit.”

“What? What do you mean, they quit?”

“Some decided to leave the drama club entirely because it was taking too much time. Others asked the professor to switch to a different play altogether.”

“Why? Suddenly? Is that even allowed? Don’t we need a minimum number of actors for each play?”

Nancy began to sob uncontrollably at that point. Agnes, looking distressed, said, “Beatrice’s play needs more people. As you know, the professors are really fond of her work.”

“They said… sniff, this play has no… sniff, future… sniff.”

I sighed at those words. Even among the small pool of talent at this academy, it was clear who had potential. It wasn’t difficult for the students to recognize that my script had no future and that those working with me were no different.

“So, this is all we have left, and she’s bawling her eyes out,” Francesco said, standing next to me as I squatted down. Surprisingly, he had stuck around despite skipping practices regularly since last semester and never having his request to be included in the play granted. I looked up at him and asked.

“…Then why didn’t you leave?”

Francesco slid down to sit next to me and replied, “Are you kidding? There’s no chance I’d get a lead role over there. Even in a doomed play, I wanted to be the lead at least once.”

“You’re not the lead.”

“Come on, we’re down to two actors. Just call me the lead, even if it’s only in name.”

A reluctant request, indeed. But considering he had stayed out of loyalty, I nodded slightly and then turned to Nancy, who had her face buried in her arms.

“Don’t cry.”

“But… sniff, over there… sniff, the lady… sniff, they have new costumes… sniff, everything.”

“We can get new costumes too.”

“Sniff, but it’s just a filler play, sniff, and they keep telling me, sniff, not to worry about the direction, sniff, to just do it haphazardly.”

At the word “haphazardly,” Nancy started sobbing again. I wondered how such a word could wound someone so deeply. People really do get hurt in many different ways. I asked Nancy.

“Who said that? That we’re just a filler play?”

Whoever it was, they were right. This play was just that. Even without Beatrice, there were several scripts circulating. If Beatrice aimed for artistry, there was another script filled purely with humor. One script was popular because the writer had many friends at the academy, ensuring a minimum audience. There were also rumors about a script planned to showcase near-circus-level tricks rather than a traditional play.

Compared to these other plays with clear advantages, my play had faint, if any, redeeming qualities.

‘How can we compete when the very members are so different…’

I had no deep understanding of art. I had no philosophy about my play. Moreover, managing art? Marketing? Those weren’t my areas of expertise. Thus, I couldn’t create a good, long-running play loved by many audiences, or a play that would attract people through word of mouth.

“Nancy.”

However, this was excessive for a one-off play, to be honest, an unnecessary measure. That Beatrice wrote good scripts and had talented actors recognizing them was just an internal evaluation by the drama and theater clubs. Only those in the know were aware of these facts. I, for one, didn’t know who the star musician in the music club was or who had the best brushwork in the art club.

“Don’t cry. Get a quote for gondolas.”

So, what was the use of being beloved in a one-time event that would only perform twice during the arts festival? Even if we were heavily criticized afterward, what mattered was getting as many people as possible to watch this play.

From the start, my goal was singular. I wanted as many people as possible to see this play. In other words, my aim was not for longevity but for a ‘one-hit wonder.’ No, not even a wonder. A single ‘hit’ would suffice.

“Francesco. You wanted to include a sword dance in the play, right?”

“Huh? Oh… yeah.”

“Include everything. But know that the play’s music will be performed by an orchestra. The music needs to be as grand and flamboyant as possible.”

“Orchestra?”

“Yes, and the choir will sing too.”

If we compete with talented people on talent alone, we lose. So, I’ll compete with sheer volume and publicity. I’ll use all the outdated techniques and forms that no longer work in our world to make sure as many people as possible come to see this play.

“Everyone, don’t go back to the dorms after this. We need to buy fireworks for the play’s finale.”

Therefore, the first person I went to see was, naturally, him.

“Icarus, do you happen to carve woodblocks?”