Chapter 69 - Book Smart, Street Stupid

After Limon performed the almost magical feat of imitating Julia's playing after hearing it once, much changed about his lessons, from the conventional curriculum to the stagnant atmosphere that had dragged on for so long. But the most dramatic changes were in the way Julia looked at him and the pace of their lessons.

“Hmm. So playing the notes smoothly, without a break between them, is called le-something?”

“Legato. It's a technique where you keep the bow in contact with the strings.”

“That makes it sound as though there are techniques where the bow doesn't stay on the strings.”

“Are you seriously asking because you don't know? You used saltato and arpeggiando several times when you played.”

“I didn't know what I was doing. I just copied your playing as best I could.”

“... Lee. Another violinist might shoot you if you said that in front of them.”

“If they're upset, tell them to try it themselves. Anyone can imitate a technique with enough time and effort.”

Julia gave the black-haired young man a wry smile. In the past, she would have had a sharp word for a remark that went beyond cheeky into outright arrogance. She knew all too well how many violinists spent their entire lives striving to imitate those very techniques. But she could say nothing. As a musician before she was a teacher, she had come to accept that he had earned the right to say it.

'How could a genius who learned almost all my techniques in just a few days understand that?'

Julia remembered what had happened after Limon copied her performance a few days ago. As though possessed, she had played again and again until her arm cramped and she could no longer hold the bow. And each time, Limon had reproduced her playing without a single deviation. As if that weren't enough, he had absorbed every technique she used.

'His talent is monstrous.'

And it wasn't only playing techniques that he learned at a monstrous rate. Perhaps seeing really was believing: now that he had absorbed Julia's technique, he was taking in the theory and knowledge she taught him at a frightening pace. Even she, hailed as a genius of the century herself and experienced in teaching countless prodigies, found his talent chilling. He was at least a match for players with Rare Skills.

'I can see why his previous teachers ran away after hearing him play once.'

She had once assumed they had fled because his playing was so awful. Now she understood the opposite: they had given up on teaching Limon because they couldn't bear the thought of handling such monstrous talent. His gift was that astonishing, like a jewel so beautiful and brilliant that one was afraid even to touch it. Not that it was entirely without flaws.

“You still can't read sheet music yourself, Lee.”

Call it divine balance or the mystery of talent, Julia couldn't fathom how he could imitate even the smallest physical action after seeing it once, yet fail to understand sheet music. Seeing her baffled expression, Limon replied indifferently.

“Wait till you're old. Using your body gets easier than using your head.”

“... I've been meaning to ask. How old are you, Lee, to say things like that?”

“Don't you know it's rude to ask a man his age?”

“I've never heard that before.”

“Then now you know.”

Limon chuckled as he gathered his notes and rose from his seat.

“Leaving already?”

“Yep. I told you I had work today.”

“Just out of curiosity, what kind of work? You seem to have it fairly regularly.”

“Hmm. Let's see.”

He rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking back over the “work” he had done these past few days, then shrugged.

“Listening to things I don't understand and nodding along no matter what, I suppose?”

“... What kind of job is that?”

Julia stared at him, incredulous at what sounded like a joke. What she didn't know was that he was entirely serious. It was the simplest, most accurate description of his duties. Indeed, that was exactly what Limon did when he met Wei Ling after his lesson.

“We posted a recruitment notice, but as expected, no one applied. I've arranged to borrow personnel from Leviathan as needed.”

“Mm.”

“To prevent outside criticism, though, we'll have to pay a service fee each time. I've put the estimated additional budget on pages 57 and 58.”

“Mm.”

“There's also been too much opposition to the security system integration we were preparing, so it looks difficult to implement. I'm still considering whether to scrap this ‘Guardian System’ or commercialize it for use outside the subsidiaries.”

“Mm.”

“Complaints are also rising faster than projected. My discreet inquiries suggest that doubts and resentment about Guardian's usefulness have already passed seventy percent. The detailed statistics are...”

“Mm.”

Wei Ling stopped reading the report. She fixed an icy stare on Limon, who sat nodding with a solemn expression, and asked bluntly:

“... Do you know what I'm saying, or are you just nodding?”

“No. Haven't a clue.”

His frank answer instantly left Wei Ling looking at him as though he were trash. It was hardly a look a secretary should give the head of her company, but for someone who had painstakingly prepared the report and briefed him point by point, it was understandable. Even the bluebird dozing on Limon's head looked down at his crown as if to say, 'I've never seen a Team Leader this shameless.'

Not that Limon had nothing to say for himself. “You could've summarized it. How am I supposed to tell what's going on from this? That thing's less a report than a weapon.” He tapped the report, which was as thick as an encyclopedia, not an ordinary book. Wei Ling's response was cold.

“That is a summary of only the bare minimum you need to know as head of the company.”

“... If this is the summary, how much is there in full?”

“If you'd like to see it, I can bring it in on a cart.”

“I most certainly would not.”

Limon surrendered. Once the unit of measurement changed from books to carts, it was a weapon against the mind—or a plot to work him to death.

“You're going to marry Your Highness, yet this much is enough to make you complain?”

“Paperwork like this has always been my weakness.”

Limon answered Wei Ling's chilly rebuke without a trace of shame, as though that settled the matter. Yu Na-gyeong could bear no more. Covering her face with a wing, she lamented, [“Why am I the one who's embarrassed...?”] Limon didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow. Instead, he blithely issued another instruction.

“So make the reports simpler. Around ten characters, if you can manage it.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“This is what a capable secretary like you is for. The princess assigned you to me because you can do it.”

“...”

“What, don't tell me you can't?”

Limon grinned provocatively. Wei Ling glared coldly at the shameless old monster, then finally crumpled the stack of reports in her hands and spoke.

“Very well. I'll explain the situation as briefly as you wish.”

“Oh!”

“At this rate, Guardian will go under.”

“... Huh?”

The grin Limon had worn, pleased with his revenge for the barrage of reports, vanished in an instant. He blinked blankly for a moment, as though doubting his ears, then hurriedly demanded an explanation.

“Hold on. What do you mean, my company's going under? We only just set it up. Why?”

Perhaps even a figurehead felt some responsibility as the nominal head. Wei Ling met his sudden alarm with a cold, mocking smile, but explained the situation calmly.

“To put it bluntly, we have no work.”

“How can we have no work? You've been working hard all this time. I've had plenty of reports on the work you've done.”

“Everything I've done so far has been preparation to take on work.”

“You were working so we could work?”

Limon looked bewildered. Wei Ling tried again. “... Think of it as sharpening your sword before going into battle.”

“Ah, I see. You sharpened your sword so you could get on with butchering people, but by the time you were ready, there was no battle to fight?”

Limon nodded as if he finally understood. Yu Na-gyeong looked at him in disbelief. [“... Team Leader, how is your brain wired that those are the only analogies you understand?”]

'Spend a few hundred years doing nothing but swinging a sword. You'll acquire the magical ability to think of everything in terms of a fight.'

[“Isn't that more of a curse than a magical ability?”]

Limon let her comment go in one ear and out the other. Instead, he rested his chin on his interlaced fingers and gave Wei Ling a serious look.

“So who is it?”

“Who is what?”

“Whoever cut off our work. A perfectly good company wouldn't stop getting jobs unless someone was up to something.”

Limon's assessment was simple: if someone was putting the company at risk, he only had to find the culprit and crush them.

“There is no such person.”

“What?”

“I said there's no sign anyone has deliberately cut off our work or interfered with our company.”

“... Then why don't we have any work?”

Wei Ling had a clear answer to Limon's clueless question. “Because Guardian isn't a perfectly good company.”

Guardian was, after all, a brand-new firm with only two employees: Limon and Wei Ling. No company head in the Black Dragon Clan was crazy enough to entrust security and protection to a place that was practically a shell company. Especially not one headed by Limon.

“And no one would put an auditing organization in charge of security and protection in the first place.”

“In other words, we have no work because it's only natural that no one gives us any?”

“Correct.”

Wei Ling answered coldly, as if to say he'd finally caught on, then belatedly offered some reassurance. “There's no need to worry, though. Until I've built up a track record to hand over to you, Your Highness will provide ample funds to cover any shortfall in operating costs.”

That should have reassured the head of a business on the verge of collapse. Limon, however, was neither relieved nor pleased. He merely gave Wei Ling an odd look before speaking.

“Hey. You've never run an auditing organization... No, you've never actually run a business at all, have you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don't bother answering. To have become an elite of the Black Dragon Clan at your age, you must've spent your whole life working yourself to death on psionics and studying.”

Limon sank back into his chair. He tapped a finger on the desk as he thought, then let out a long sigh. Only now did he realize the real reason Li Qingyu had deliberately assigned Wei Ling to him—a reason her competence had kept him from noticing.

“So that's it. The princess didn't give me a capable aide. She saddled me with a know-it-all I've got to teach.”