DLMS 2

Chapter 2 Because I tripped over a sock and fell, I ended up skipping the very first day of classes.

The course correction period had to be a blessing bestowed upon college students by God Himself.

I had no parents to support me with living expenses.
Since I absolutely had to secure an on-campus scholarship to reduce my financial burden, missing class attendance was not an option.

Of course, there were government scholarships, but Yesung University was infamous for its merciless tuition fees as a private school.

Well, anyway—right now there was something far more important than such worries.

[Now do you finally feel that I exist?]

“Uh… hmm… I’m not sure yet.”

[Unbelievable! You hear my voice in your ears right now, and you still say you’re not sure?]

“No, that’s not it. I do believe you’re real. You could be a demon… or maybe a ghost, or even a god. But…”

[But?]

“It’s just hard to believe. This isn’t something that makes sense. A mysterious voice talking to me, giving me perfect pitch out of nowhere… Honestly, it’s kind of scary.”

[Tch… you coward. Grow a spine.]

“Wha—hey, watch your mouth. Don’t call me a coward!”

[I’m a demon, idiot. Of course I’d talk like this.]

“Oh… yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It felt like I lost that round in words, but he wasn’t exactly wrong.
Still, it was ridiculous to think that a demon would use modern slang.
But if he could actually communicate with humans like this, maybe it wasn’t so strange.

“Wait, who exactly are you? Why me? Why is this happening to me? No, wait—that’s not the right question…”

I had so many questions, but I didn’t even know how to phrase them properly, so I just rambled.

[Yeah, yeah. I get how you’re feeling. Back in Japan, that guy Sakamoto Toomori bawled like a baby the second I appeared. Compared to him, you’re pretty composed.]

“You’ve been mentioning Mozart and all that since earlier… what does that even—”

[Quiet, will you? Stop babbling and I’ll explain.]

The demon sounded like he’d been through this kind of situation plenty of times.

[My job is to grant humans abilities and turn them into outstanding artists. I’ve been doing this for a long time.]

“A demon does… that? Why?”

[Why? There is no why. It’s just what I do.]

“Hm…”

Since I knew nothing about the world this being lived in, I had no choice but to just accept it.

[Also, I’m not a god. My powers have limits. Still, compared to you fragile humans, my strength is immense.]

I felt belittled, but couldn’t exactly argue.

“Then… your powers. The ability you gave me. What exactly is it, and how did you do it?”

[I condensed the abilities you would’ve earned through ten years of effort and gave them to you all at once.]

“So you mean… if I worked hard for ten years, I’d eventually gain perfect pitch anyway?”

[Exactly. It was an ability you would’ve acquired with effort sooner or later.]

The words “with effort” from the demon carried an undeniable charm.

“But isn’t perfect pitch something you’re just born with?”

[That’s just what people without it like to believe. It’s not always true.]

“I see…”

[Of course, if you’d never pursued music and gone into another field, the ability would’ve just vanished into thin air.]

“So the reason you gave me this ability… is to turn me into a great artist?”

[That’s right. And…]

His voice trailed off, followed by a creepy laugh.

[Naturally, there’s a price.]

“Wha—what the hell! You forced this ability on me and now you want payment? That’s robbery!”

I didn’t know what he’d demand, but I couldn’t blindly trust someone who called himself a demon.
Especially not when he just handed me a power without asking, and then demanded something in return.

[At least hear me out first. Be honest—gaining an ability now that you’d normally only get after ten years… isn’t that a sweet deal?]

I was afraid.
But he was right—it was a sweet deal.

Perfect pitch.
I didn’t yet know how much it would help me, but just imagining it was thrilling.

As fleeting doubts crossed my mind, the demon spoke first.

[In exchange for giving you this ability, I’ll take half of whatever value you come to cherish most, and I’ll convert it into my power. But only once, each time.]

“The value I’ll come to cherish most…?”

[Yes. It could be money, passion, or even emotions. But don’t worry—your musical abilities will never be taken as payment.]

“So the price changes depending on what I value at that time?”

[Exactly. The most precious thing you have at that moment. But trust me, it won’t be a losing trade for you.]

I wasn’t convinced.
I couldn’t even say what my most precious value was right now.
And there was no guarantee it wouldn’t ruin me.

“So all I have to do is pay the price when it comes, and work hard at music using this power?”

[Correct. Although, to grant you the next ability, I’ll need not just payment, but also time…]

“Time?”

[I’m too lazy to explain further. Let’s stop here. Giving you power has worn me out.]

“Uh, sure… okay…”

Even after hearing it directly, the whole situation still felt unbelievable.
But above all, the thought of conversing with a demon filled me with fear.

If the voice had called itself God, or my ancestors, or even my late parents, maybe I could’ve accepted it.
But a demon—a symbol of evil?

[Anyway, let’s work well together. You’ve got nothing to lose.]

“Work well together? I haven’t agreed to anything yet!”

[Heheheh… then take your time. I won’t rush you.]

There was leisure in his tone.

Sure, I kept saying no because of the fear he gave me.
But deep down, I couldn’t help but think—maybe this was an opportunity.

If I could gain in an instant the ability I’d only have acquired after ten years, my path to success would surely open up faster.
And besides, the perfect pitch I’d just received—it made my heart race every moment.

I could hear it even now:
the honking of cars outside the window, the chirping of birds, the roar of a motorbike in the alley.

Every sound was arranged into musical notes, even the tones between piano keys that normally couldn’t be played.

It was without a doubt a power that would help me.

And the more I thought about it, the less it seemed like the price would utterly destroy my life.

The fact that such thoughts were already crossing my mind…

[So then, I’ll be counting on you, human.]

“Y-yeah… demon…”

The next day.

This time, I didn’t pass out, so I managed to get to school on time.

It was March—the start of a new semester.
Spring warmth filled the air, though cold winds still blew as if unwilling to fade away.

The lecture hall was filled with unfamiliar faces.

No surprise. I’d enlisted right after finishing my freshman year, and after being discharged and completing another semester, I’d immediately signed with JH Entertainment.

Now, five years later, at the age of twenty-six…

I thought maybe there’d be a few others from the class of ’13 who’d also taken leaves of absence and returned late. But I didn’t see anyone.

I felt out of place with no familiar faces.
Starting sophomore year at twenty-six… it hit me pretty hard.

But whatever. My goal wasn’t to graduate as a Korean literature major—it was to join Yesung University’s pop music club.

“Alright, that’s enough for today. We’ll stop here. Next class, make sure you have the textbook if you haven’t bought it yet.”

With the professor’s words, the Introduction to Classical Literature class ended thirty minutes early.

The lecture hall filled with chatter.
Some suggested heading to the PC café during their free period.
Others wanted to stop by the campus store, or go nap in the department lounge because of hangovers.

The mix of countless voices was enough to make noise—but I could separate each one clearly.

[How long are you going to stay drunk on sound? Shouldn’t you be heading to the department office?]

‘Ah, right. Thanks.’

Since the demon could read my thoughts, he sometimes reminded me of things I’d forgotten.
In its own way, it was useful.

Clunk.

I opened the department office door, and immediately saw a face I’d rather never see again.

“Oh.”

“Oh!”

“Hey! Yoo Jae-hee! Long time no see!”

“Oh, Jong-pil… long time. You’re a TA now?”

“Yeah. Literature majors don’t exactly get jobs, you know? So I’m just hanging around as a teaching assistant.”

“…I see.”

My pale face drained even further of color.

“So what brings you to the office?”

“I… need to get my student ID reissued.”

“Got it. I’ll take care of it. It’s nice seeing you again. I heard you got a job somewhere?”

“Uh… yeah. Didn’t work out.”

“Well, that happens in life! Come on, straighten your shoulders, man!”

With his broad frame and thick arm, Kim Jong-pil thumped my shoulder a few times, supposedly to encourage me.
But I couldn’t tell if it was encouragement or mockery.
Maybe it was just my lingering resentment toward him.

“Thanks. Anyway, I’ll get going. Take care.”

“Sure.”

Just as I opened the door to leave—

“Jae-hee.”

“Yeah?”

“How about grabbing a drink sometime?”

His smile didn’t seem malicious, but I still hesitated.
And if I stayed silent too long, it would only make things awkward.

“Sure.”

I forced a smile with my reply.
I had to resist the twitching in my facial muscles.

“Alright, take care.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Clunk.

The door closed, and Kim Jong-pil sat back at his desk, staring at the monitor.

“…Pathetic bastard.”

[That guy’s an asshole, isn’t he?]

‘How do you know that?’

[When do you think I first entered your body?]

‘…Don’t tell me.’

[I’ve been there since you were born.]

‘Then… you know everything…’

Kim Jong-pil and I had gone to the same elementary and middle schools.
Not friends—just classmates.

If we’d been true friends, he wouldn’t have tormented me the way he did.

Back in elementary school, he didn’t bother me.
But once we entered middle school, he started looking for targets.

Maybe it was because I was quiet and timid.
Or maybe it was because I always held the top spot in the class rankings.

Whatever the reason, I became his prey, his toy, for three years.

As the saying goes, perpetrators don’t remember, and indeed, Jong-pil never thought of it as bullying.

Thankfully, in high school, we went to different schools, and I was finally able to breathe. Compared to the hell of middle school, high school was normal.

But fate had a twisted sense of humor—I ended up in the same university, same major, as Kim Jong-pil.

At least he didn’t treat me the same way as back then.

Still, what helped me endure those painful school years was music.
That was why my passion for it was stronger than most.

‘Hey… can you read his thoughts too?’

[Who, Jong-pil?]

‘Yeah.’

[No. I can only read your emotions and thoughts. And even then, only some.]

‘What? Not all of them?’

[Depends on how deep the thought goes.]

‘That’s… pretty amazing.’

So the demon wasn’t omnipotent after all.
If he had been, he wouldn’t have needed to impose conditions for giving me powers.

[You don’t like that guy, do you?]

‘I… don’t really know.’

[Good grief… out of all the humans I’ve dealt with over the past thousand years, you’re the softest one yet.]

“…”

[Of course you should hate him.]

When I didn’t answer, the demon sounded exasperated.
And I knew exactly what he meant.
Even I was frustrated with myself.

‘By the way, I’ve got a question.’

[What is it?]

‘If you’ve been inside me since birth, why show yourself only now?’

[Because you’ll only agree to a contract when life is at its hardest. If life’s going well, would you ever sign a deal with me?]

‘…’

So he really was cruel.

[Don’t think of it too harshly. I came to help you.]

Maybe he’d just been lying in wait inside me all this time, watching for the right moment.
But… he wasn’t wrong. I really had been struggling lately.

Even though I poured everything into pursuing music and sustaining my life, I’d been betrayed by the company, stuck back at school with strangers.

So maybe the ability he gave me was a ray of light.
Looking around at my circumstances and comparing them with the gift from the demon, I couldn’t help but feel a spark of positivity in my heart.

When classes were over, I headed straight home.

It wasn’t even dinnertime yet, so after a shower, I sat down at my desk, facing my computer.
Two monitors stood there, with a keyboard placed between them.

My precious gear.
The weapons that would carry me through my music career.

Since my contract with JH Entertainment ended, I hadn’t written a single piece of music.
Between the emotional toll, finding a new place to live, and preparing to return to school, I’d been too busy.

“Alright, time to loosen up and get back to work.”

Even though I’d left the company, I still had private commissions.
I was technically an amateur again, but writing songs for clients was how I supported myself now.
And it paid far better than a part-time job.

A few days ago, I’d received a new commission, so today I had to dive into it.

Stretching, I double-clicked on my sequencer software, and the familiar logo appeared on the screen.

I set up my workspace, chose my save location, and began.

-Empty
-UJ session

“Save under UJ session…”

I closed my eyes briefly, searching for inspiration.
Should I start with the drums, or with the piano?

Even trivial decisions like this sent a thrill through my chest.

I loaded up my favorite piano VST and placed my hands on the keys.

Cm chord.

C minor.

Nothing special—except this time it felt different.

“Oh… oh!”

With perfect pitch, the hesitation was gone.

I instantly knew which chord needed to follow to match the mood I wanted.
Which note should sit at the top?
Should I stack chord tones tightly or spread them out?

Before, I would’ve tested various chord tones or stuck to familiar progressions.
But now, with perfect pitch, I could make decisions instantly—and had countless more options.

It was far more powerful than I’d expected.

Of course, perfect pitch alone wouldn’t make me a great composer.
It just sped up the process—it couldn’t create inspiration for me.
Like knowing perfect spelling doesn’t make you a good novelist.

Still, it was a tremendously useful tool.

Using it, I quickly arranged the instruments:
drums, bass, piano, guitar, countless synths and pads, effects…

The composition came together in no time.

“Next step.”

Mixing and mastering.

This was where I adjusted the sounds of all those instruments to make them pleasing and cohesive, while reducing clashes between them.

Unlike composition, this wasn’t about pitch, but about sound design as a whole. So perfect pitch wasn’t much help here.

But with today’s plugins that displayed sound frequencies visually, it was nothing I couldn’t handle with experience.

[Man, times really have changed.]

“Shut up. Don’t talk while I’m working.”

[Oh? Someone’s getting cocky.]

“I said shut it…”

[Back in my day, we didn’t have any of this! We had to write it all out on sheet music, gather dozens of performers, and—]

“Argh! I told you to be quiet!”

[Heheheh… that’s more like it. Now it’s fun.]

“…”

I ignored him and focused.
I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t stand distractions while composing.

It was the one time my personality turned sharp.

If it were important advice, that would be one thing. But this endless chatter—just noise.
And with perfect pitch, even ordinary noise became unwanted notes, making it worse.

So it wasn’t all upside.

[Don’t worry. The noise bothers you now, but once you get used to it, it’ll be fine.]

I understood what he meant, but for now, he was just a nuisance.

“Phew…”

Not long after, the track was complete.

An instrumental, without vocals yet.

Listening from start to finish, I couldn’t help but marvel.

“Wow… to make a song of this quality so quickly… perfect pitch really is amazing.”

[Remember—perfect pitch only shortens your working time and widens your options.]

“Yeah, I get that.”

[But you have talent. That’s why that big company signed you.]

“…Thanks.”