Devil’s Music

In the cold winter, a van sped through the empty streets of Manhattan. A white man driving the van, frantically honking the horn, asked the man holding the safety bar in the passenger seat.

"Ben! What time is it now?!"

Ben, without letting go of the safety bar, checked his wristwatch with difficulty and replied.

"We have three minutes left, Director Richie!"

Richie, who appeared to be a camera director with a black cap and headphones around his neck, sweated as he turned the steering wheel violently and stomped on the accelerator.

"Damn! It would be terrible if we're late!"

"We're almost there, just around this corner is that mansion."

"I know! Even arriving ten minutes early doesn't feel right, but arriving just on time would be good."

"Yeah, you're right."

"How can I control that, I mean... sorry."

"Anyway! If that person gets angry, just prostrate yourself!"

"Yes... I understand."

"Did you read the entire script?"n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

"Yes, but there are some parts that need to be revised."

"Oh? Which parts?"

Ben circled a part of the thick script with a pen and said,

"This part here. It says the person won three Nobel Prizes in Literature."

"That's right, isn't it?"

"I checked, and it's actually four; they're receiving this year's prize too."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I've confirmed it with the association."

"Do they know about it too?"

"Yes, I heard they've already been contacted as the designated recipient, and there aren't really any competitors."

"Of course... No one can match them in literature. If they already know, then let's change it."

"Okay, Director."

After Ben marked the script with a pen, he suddenly pointed to a desolate demolished building outside the window.

"Huh? The ice cream shop is gone?"

Richie glanced outside the passenger-side window and then continued driving.

"Yeah, it closed about six months ago."

Ben smacked his lips in disappointment.

"Ah, I have memories there with my mother from when I was a kid, it's a shame."

"Indeed. I heard that place had been in business for 80 years, a real pity."

"Why did it close?"

"It was a family-run business, but the last owner passed away from old age, and his daughter decided not to take over the ice cream shop, opting to become a lawyer instead."

"Really? Shame, I would have liked to have ice cream there one more time. How come you know so much about it?"

"I went there in advance because I heard that person liked their ice cream, but it was closed, so I asked the caretaker."

"Really? An elderly lady over seventy liked ice cream?"

"Maybe like you, she's been eating ice cream there since she was a child. Not just ice cream, but the memories too."

"Ah... that makes sense, ah! We're here!"

Both men saw the grand and imposing mansion as they approached the entrance guarded by stern-looking men in black suits. As the car stopped, a man knocked on the driver's side window, and Richie rolled it down.

"We're here to film today's New York Report, Richie speaking. We have an appointment."

The man with a snake tattoo on his face peered into the car and glanced at Ben in the passenger seat.

"May I see your IDs, please?"

"Ah, yes! Here it is, Ben! Show yours too."

After verifying their IDs, the man allowed them entrance, and the gates to the mansion opened.

As they drove up to the mansion, Ben wiped off his cold sweat.

"Phew, it's always nerve-racking coming here for the second time."

Richie, equally tense, wiped his forehead with his sleeve.

"If the world knew what's happening here, it would cause an uproar. Thankfully, the media keeps it quiet. Anyway, we're late, let's hurry. Has Olivia arrived?"

"Yes, I talked to her earlier. She said she's already set up the equipment."

"Good, let's get going."

As soon as they parked in front of the mansion, a woman in her thirties hurried out to help with the luggage and shouted.

"Director! Why are you so late! We've been waiting!"

"Ah, sorry, Olivia. There were some issues."

"What issues! Do you know how hard it was to secure this interview? Doesn't the company realize how much effort went into this?"

Richie glared at Ben as he clumsily got out and replied.

"There were reasons, and you probably don't want to hear the dirty details. Let's just move on. I'll buy you dinner later."

"Ugh, fine. Just hurry up and set up the main camera."

"

Ah, alright."

Olivia turned Richie back as he began carrying the bulky camera equipment toward the mansion.

"Not here, the interview will take place in the guest house."

"Oh? Not here?"

"Yes, they requested it be in the guesthouse. I've set everything up over there."

"Alright. Ben! Let's hurry!"

As Ben struggled with the luggage toward the guesthouse, he noticed several brightly colored flowers blooming in the otherwise barren winter garden.

"Wow, flowers blooming in winter. What are these?"

Olivia set down a large bag in front of the guesthouse and paused for breath.

"They're cyclamen flowers."

"Cyclamen? I've never heard of it. Do they usually bloom in winter?"

"Yes, they were the favorite flowers of their mother."

"They're beautiful."

"Haha, it seems out of character for them to like flowers?"

"Haha, yes. When you see flowers, you lose your mind. What does this flower symbolize?"

Olivia gently touched the petals of the nearest flower and explained.

"Red cyclamen means 'You are so beautiful it worries me', and white cyclamen means 'Kind-hearted owner'. People often associate cyclamen with 'shyness'. The reason white cyclamen symbolizes 'shyness' is because the white flowers look down at the ground, reminiscent of a pure and shy girl."

Ben nodded as he looked at the flowers, reflecting the owner's noble hobby in the beautiful and stately flowers that endured the harsh winter winds and cold.

After a moment of admiring the flowers, Olivia suddenly snapped to attention.

"Goodness, I almost spaced out! We need to hurry!"

Following Richie, who had already gone inside, Olivia began moving the equipment as Ben stood alone, looking regretfully at the flowers, and approached a white swing among them.

"I see, this is that swing."

Having seen the famous white swing mentioned in numerous works, Ben muttered with emotion.

"I couldn't see it during the first interview because it was held in the main building. I've always wanted to see it."

As if seeing a beloved person, Ben caressed the swing and stood beside it, looking at the cyclamen flowers.

"This was the place from the 2053 work, 'Flowers and Swing Leave Longing and Love'. It was her first work to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. The scent that permeated his writings is indeed these cyclamen flowers."

Seeing a place that appeared in a beloved literary work or movie is a pleasure for anyone.

Although he dared not take a photo, Ben looked at the flowers as if memorizing them visually and turned his head as Olivia emerged from the guesthouse door.

"Ben! Hurry up!"

"Ah, right."

As Ben entered the guesthouse, the first thing he saw was a photo of a woman. She was wearing a straw hat and smiling brightly, incredibly beautiful, but unrecognizable.

Pausing in front of the photo, Ben crossed his arms and scrutinized it as Olivia stood beside him.

"She'll be here soon. Have you memorized the script?"

"Yes, I've got it all down, just taking it easy now."

"Don't make any mistakes, you know? Our director begged on his knees to secure this interview, and she usually doesn't give interviews."

"Yes, yes. How could I not? Haha, but who is the woman in this photo? I've been familiar with her since childhood, but she didn't look like this."

"That's her mother. She passed away when she was young."

"I see. So she inherited her mother's beauty."

"Right? I was also surprised when I first saw this photo. Now, the interview will take place in front of that piano over there."

"Oh! That piano?"

"Haha, yes. That piano. It will probably be a big topic when it airs."

Ben quickly moved to the window with the white frame, standing in front of the old but gleaming grand piano, and cautiously touched the piano's black body.

"This was from the 2040 work, 'The Song of the Piano', right? I really liked that piece."

Olivia also nodded, her eyes filled with emotion.

"Yes, that was the first work of hers I encountered. I was just entering high school then, and after seeing that, I read all her books.

So, coming here and seeing this piano, I was like you, unable to move and just staring at it for a while."

"Haha, it's a new feeling to see this in person."

"It's where the god of music and the goddess of literature once sat together. Recently, a wealthy man from China offered millions of dollars to buy this piano, but they refused to sell."

Ben frowned.

"As always, those with a lot of money think everything can be solved with money. Do they even understand the meaning and history contained here? It's a piano that even museums would be proud to display, yet a private individual tried to buy it, huh!"

"Haha, exactly. Now

, get ready."

Urged by Olivia, Ben sat on one of the two single sofas placed in front of the piano and read through the script as the staff hustled and Olivia stood up to head towards the entrance.

As several men escorted a tall, elderly woman in her mid-70s through the guesthouse door, Ben stood up and rushed over.

"My goodness! Hello again! I'm Ben Nicholas from New York Report, nice to see you again!"

The elderly but still tall and slim woman, although her face was wrinkled, she had a gentle smile as she extended her hand.

"It's nice to see you again."

Blushing at the sight of the still beautiful woman, Ben felt his heart race, not from romantic feelings but as a fan admiring a revered literary figure, and led her to the sofa.

"Let's conduct the interview here, Professor Kiska Miocic."

>

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