Alchemists do not need self-cultivation

"In the past, almost all violinists who challenged Partini's pieces developed mental illnesses and eventually died. In the end, no one knows where the score itself is."

"It sounds like a bizarre story."

“That’s what I thought at first, until Christobel was going to play the Utopia piece and I realized it wasn’t just a legend,” Hugh said. “She had played Kyriemo’s piece before, and it’s said that every listener experienced hallucinations and became addicted.”

"I think I understand. You want to solve the problem of Kirillmo's music, which has become a phantom book, right?"

Isaac roughly knew Hugh and Dallian's purpose.

"But then again, if you want to go find the Illusion Book, then go find it. Why take me with you?"

"Well..."

Hugh chuckled dryly.

"Mainly... to be on the safe side."

"what?"

"Simply put, this unreliable man has suddenly lost confidence in himself and wants you, who seems unreliable on the surface, to accompany him." Dalian snorted, making Hugh somewhat embarrassed.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Christo Belle Sasteen's concert hall is located almost in the very center of the capital.

A beautiful building with church-like spires and a hidden roof.

"What a luxurious concert hall...it certainly cost a lot of money."

Looking up at the buildings as he crossed the intersection, Hugh's expression was very complicated.

"What's going on with those guys?"

Darian frowned in displeasure as she glared at the crowd gathered in front of the concert hall.

Hundreds of people lined up in a long queue, as if surrounding the building.

The queue consisted mainly of elegantly dressed gentlemen and women. They seemed impatient for something, standing silently with their eyes closed.

He looked like a traveler waiting for raindrops in the desert.

“I guess you could call me a fan of Christobell… but isn’t that a bit too fanatical?” Isaac laughed.

"The concert hall's opening ceremony will be held tomorrow afternoon. So it seems there's a rehearsal tonight. Miss Sastin will probably be there too; we're probably gathered here just to catch a glimpse of her, right? Maybe we can even overhear her playing."

"There was definitely a problem."

Looking at the expressions of the people queuing outside, they were clearly the kind of people who were extremely obsessed with Christobel's performance.

“We need to find a way into the concert hall to see that woman named Christobell,” Darian said. “The first thing we need to do is…”

She pointed to a security guard patrolling around.

"We need to distract the security guards."

"Okay, go ahead, good luck."

"Huh? You mean you're planning to send me?"

Dalian glared at Isaac with her hands on her hips.

"Of course, this kind of thing should be left to you and Hugh to do."

"why me?"

"Otherwise, what do you think we brought you here for? Are you as unreliable as you seem?"

"...Okay."

Isaac's lips twitched, and he grabbed Darian by the back of her collar.

"Hey! What are you doing?! Put me down right now, you damn alchemist!!"

Ignoring Dalian's struggles, Isaac carried her toward the security guard.

"Security guard."

"Oh? Is there anything I can help you with, sir?"

“That’s how it is,” Isaac said, pointing to Dalia, who was struggling and being held up by one hand. “This little girl got separated from her parents and was just crying and making a scene, mistaking me for her father.”

"What did you say, you damned alchemist?!"

"Oh dear, this is terrible." The security guard adjusted his hat. "How can I help you?"

"Can you help me take her to the police station? I'm new to the capital and don't know the way yet, and I have things to do. I want her to stop clinging to me."

"Okay, please teach me."

"Thank you. This child has been saying strange things and is quite noisy since earlier. You might need to take care of him."

"Don't worry, I'm good at taking care of children."

"Let me down, and you rude bastard! Let me go! I'm not some lost child!!" Dallian yelled, "You damned alchemist, you'll remember this!!"

As Isaac watched Darian being led to the police station by security guards, he smiled and waved goodbye to her.

He turned around, looked at Hugh, who was covered in sweat, and said, "Let's find a chance to go in."

“That… about Dalian…”

"Let her stay at the police station for a while, then we'll go pick her up later."

"But... there are security guards at the entrance, what should we do..."

"Look over there."

Isaac pointed to the side of the concert hall.

The slender man, dressed in work clothes, had long, casually grown hair that was sticking up in all directions from sleeping marks.

"That looks like... the man who was with Christobelle?"

"Follow."

……

The man walked along the path into the concert hall, his actions somewhat suspicious, as if he were afraid of being seen.

Isaac, Fran, and Hughie secretly followed him without being discovered.

"Is that the concert hall's machinery room over there? How strange... I thought he was Miss Sastin's companion... Why would he go to a place like that by himself?"

Looking at the signboard placed at the intersection of the alley, Hugh tilted his head and said.

After crossing the winding path, the back door leading to the concert hall is ahead.

A simple metal door stood against the gray stone wall, unlocked. On the other side of the door was a steep staircase leading underground, into complete darkness.

"It stinks."

"It smells like engine oil."

Isaac sniffed the smell in the hallway.

It's not unusual to find power generators or heating systems in the basement of a large concert hall. However, the basement Hugh and his companion entered didn't seem to have such large-scale equipment. The spacious interior was quite empty. If one had to compare, it felt more like a warehouse for storing large musical instruments.

At the far end of the basement is a lifting device similar to an elevator.

In order to transport heavier instruments or orchestra members from the basement to the stage, a hydraulic lifting device was installed under the floor of the orchestra pit.

Then, on the iron plate of the lifting base, there was a strange machine.

"what is this?"

Hugh felt something was off.

He picked up a lighter and illuminated the machinery in the dark space, feeling that this was not something that should be placed in the basement of a concert hall.

Chapter 1040: The Addictive Nature of Songs

"This machine is..."

"It appears to be a device used to amplify sound."

Isaac glanced at the machine and quickly figured out its function.

The lift next to it is probably used to slowly raise the performers onto the stage, which Isaac wouldn't find strange.

"But, if it's just a megaphone... isn't it a bit too big?"

"really……"

The entire basement reeked of machine oil. With just a little light from a lighter, you could see all sorts of intricate parts, big and small, scattered throughout the space. Was it really necessary for a concert hall to have something like this?

Bang!

Suddenly, a spotlight shone down.

Christobell, dressed in a formal gown and holding a violin, stands on the elevator.

No one had noticed the girl standing on the elevator before, and Isaac, unable to sense her aura, also failed to notice her.

The spotlight also illuminated several mechanical puppets made of gears on the piano.

"Miss Christobelle?"

“Mr. Hugh Anthony Diswald, and Mr. Isaac and Miss Fran.”

Christobelle called out the three names without any expression.

"I'm so sorry," Hugh quickly apologized. "We came here by accident, and we're sorry if we've disturbed you..."

"It's alright."

Her voice remained devoid of emotion, sounding almost mechanical.

Of course, she was originally a machine.

"What exactly is that machine? To me, it's like an automatic piano player..."

Christobelle shook her head awkwardly at Hugh's question.

"friend."

"Friend? Your friend?"

Hugh raised an eyebrow in surprise. Christobelle nodded slowly.