Devil’s Music

 The next day.

After a late night of drinking, Geon and his companions, still reluctant to rise in the late morning, got into a Rolls-Royce limousine where they had been waiting along with Alisher Usmanov.

Finally getting up in a hurry, Shizuka joined them in the car, and they set off towards Ambleside. About 30 minutes later, they entered a rural village. Sticking close to the car window and seeing the serene plains and a lake, Shizuka commented with a small smile.

"England is a fascinating country, isn't it? To think that such a countryside exists just 30 minutes from London."

Alisher Usmanov laughed in response.

"Indeed. There's no other country in the world where the bustling city and the countryside coexist like this."

Geon smiled silently, recalling the Himalayas which were just a 20-minute walk from the capital city of Nepal.

"Did you contact Mr. Arthur Hodgson in advance?"

"No, I didn't. When deciding to invest in a startup, I prefer to see the person's usual demeanor first," chuckled Usmanov.

A few more minutes of driving brought them to a row of lakeside houses. The driver, frowning at the navigation system, turned to look back.

"We're here according to the navigation, but it seems one of those three houses ahead might be the place…"

As Alisher Usmanov stepped out of the car, he said,

"Let's ask around."

Joining Usmanov, they approached an elderly Caucasian lady sitting on a bench in front of one of the homes, clearly intrigued by the out-of-place limousine.

"Seems you're tourists," she commented with a warm laugh.

Alisher Usmanov, handing her Arthur's business card, replied,

"Ha, no. Actually, we're here to see if this person lives here."

The lady, squinting at the business card due to her poor eyesight, handed it back.

"I didn't bring my glasses, can't see a thing. Just tell me the name."

"Oh, sorry about that. We're looking for a friend named Arthur Hodgson."

She looked towards the house furthest back among the three. Like her own home, it was a single-story with white walls and a brown roof.

"If you mean Hodgson's place, it's that house there…"

Usmanov laughed as he put away the business card.

"Thank you. Let's go, shall we?"

As they passed, Geon briefly nodded to the lady who then stretched out her hand and remarked,

"My, my, aren't you a handsome young man?"

Reminded of his late grandmother by the old lady's warm gesture, Geon paused, then sat beside her and responded with a smile,

"Hehe, grandma."

She carefully examined Geon's face and exclaimed,

"I've never seen such a handsome young man in my life. Are you Asian?"

"Yes, grandma. I'm from Korea."

"Ah, Korea? The country that hosted the World Cup?"

Thinking how even a British grandma differs, Geon laughed.

"Yes, that's right. It's already been 20 years, yet you still remember that, haha."

"Ha, just an old lady killing time on this bench. But why are you looking for Mr. Hodgson's house?"

"Ah… I have some business with his son."

"Arthur? You're here to see that little boy?"

"Ha, grandma, he's not little anymore. I heard he's in his mid-twenties now."

"Well, to someone like me who has seen him grow up, he'll always be a little boy, haha. But I think his mother and he went to the market just a while ago… Did they come back yet?"

"I guess we'll just have to see."

"Alright, I'm baking apple pie, do take some later."

"Ha, thank you, grandma."

Letting go of her hand, Geon rejoined Usmanov, apologizing for the delay.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, let's go."

"That's alright. You seem to get along well with the elderly."

"Heh, she reminded me of my grandma."

Assuming it was impolite to inquire further about a potentially deceased relative, Usmanov remained silent as they headed towards Hodgson's house.

The white-walled house appeared to be made of wood, with a deep brown door. Usmanov, finding no doorbell, knocked.

"Hello, anyone home?"

After several knocks, the door opened with a rustle from inside. A Black man in his sixties, holding the doorknob, looked alternately at Geon and Usmanov as if wondering what their business might be.

"Hello, Mr. Hodgson."

Startled to hear his name, the man asked,

"Ah... Yes. Where are you folks from?"

Usmanov presented a business card, explaining,

"We

 have some business matters to discuss with your son."

The man squinted at the card, then his expression turned to surprise. Quickly going inside to get his glasses, he returned, looked at the card again, and exclaimed in a slightly elevated tone,

"Arsenal Holdings? Is it the Arsenal I know of?"

Usmanov laughed heartily.

"Yes, that's right."

"Well then, please come in."

Once inside, the man seated them on an old sofa and hurried to the kitchen to make tea. As they took in the surroundings, Usmanov nodded toward the aged sofa and table, chewed at the edges as if by animals, and an old mechanical TV that stood on an equally antiquated table.

"Doesn't seem like a very wealthy home, does it?"

"Look at the pictures," Usmanov remarked, pointing to numerous family photos framed on the walls, from black-and-white to color, all sharing the same lakeside background.

"Seems like a family that has lived here for a very long time."

As they observed, the Black man returned with a tray of tea.

"Ah, thank you. A polite young man, I see. It's nothing much, but the tea is made from chamomile picked by my wife from the mountain."

Tasting the tea, Usmanov's eyes widened in surprise.

"Are these leaves just lying around the mountain?"

"Ha, no, these are dried using a method passed down from my great-grandmother. Tastes alright?"

"More than alright, I'd consider commercializing this quality of tea. Thank you, Mr. Hodgson."

"Ha, call me Toby. Toby Hodgson."

"Ah, Toby. Nice to meet you. I'm Alisher Usmanov."

"Ah… Alisher… what was that?"

"Ha, just call me Usmanov."

"And this polite young man?"

"I'm Geon. Toby."

"Ha, thankfully, that's an easier name. Wait, where have I heard that before…"

As Toby pondered, he soon shook his head.

"As you get older, memory starts to fade, ha."

"Ha, it's okay. You wouldn't know."

"Ha, thanks for understanding. But… you said you're here to see my son about business…"

Usmanov nodded, smiling.

"I've seen the watches your son made. They need a bit more refinement."

Toby laughed sheepishly.

"He's still green, eager to skip steps and become an owner outright. I worry a lot."

"There's definite potential. With a good designer and proper equipment, he could make a successful brand of handcrafted watches. That's why we're here."

Toby looked at Usmanov in surprise, then burst into laughter.

"Ha, I didn't recognize such esteemed guests. Thanks for thinking highly of my son. But Arthur's at the market with his wife. You might have to wait a bit."

"It's alright. We came without an appointment."

Toby stroked his chin, thinking, then stood up.

"Can't just sit here with such distinguished guests. My son's workshop is in the basement; would you like to see it?"

Usmanov beamed as he stood.

"Oh! That would be interesting. A watchmaker's workshop, you say."

"Ha, calling him a watchmaker is a bit generous. He's hardly a technician yet. Come this way."

They headed outside to the basement stairs. Toby slid open a door and turned on the light, illuminating the dark staircase as he called out,

"Come on down, watch your step."

Curious, Usmanov went down first. The steep stairs made it difficult to descend quickly, and he disappeared slowly inside.

As Geon was about to follow, a strange sensation made him turn his head. He saw a person standing at the edge of the plain where the forest began.

"Who's that?"

A blonde woman in a white dress was slightly distant, making it hard to discern her face. Geon stared at her for a while. She didn't make any particular movements, just looked back at him. Realizing he was the only other person around, Geon felt it odd but waved his hand instinctively.

Though far away, he sensed she was smiling as she waved back.

Unusual for Koreans who are generally cautious with strangers, but typical for the West where even a mere glance can elicit a smile or a greeting, Geon didn't find it strange. Smiling, he entered the basement.

Even though it was winter, the woman in the green forest quietly lowered her hand. Her deep blue eyes glinted as she looked towards Toby's house.

"I've finally met the last child, Geon."

After a moment, she disappeared from the spot as if she had never been there.

 The basement was surprisingly clean and well-organized. Unlike in the movies, there was no need to wave away dust and cough.

Alisher Usmanov, admiring the large wooden table, a few chairs, and the wall full of clockmaking tools, ran his finger over the workbench and looking at his hand, remarked, "Not a speck of dust. The owner seems very meticulous."

Toby, with a snicker, pulled out a small hammer from the hanging tools on the wall and showed it off.

"Can't teach you much else, but I did teach proper tool care, having been an auto mechanic myself."

Alisher Usmanov laughed as he took the hammer.

"Oh, your skill with tools must come from your father then."

Geon briefly looked around the room before tuning in to the sound of a car outside.

"Seems like they're back?"

Toby listened to the sound outside and laughed.

"You have good ears. Sounds like they're back, let's head out."

Toby was the first to exit the basement, followed by Alisher Usmanov.

Outside, Toby started unloading groceries from the car and called out to Arthur.

"Arthur, we have guests."

Arthur, holding two large plastic bags, gave Alisher Usmanov a puzzled look.

"A guest? Ah... who is it?"

Arthur's eyes widened as Geon appeared behind Alisher Usmanov.

"Geon!?"

As he dropped the plastic bags, oranges rolled out, and he stood gaping, unable to think of picking them up, when an elderly lady, having gotten out of the car, shouted.

"My goodness, Arthur! What are you doing?"

As the lady hurried to pick up the oranges, Geon bent down to help her. Noticing him, she turned her head.

"Who are you?"

Smiling charmingly, the already handsome Geon said as he handed her two oranges,

"My name is Geon, nice to meet you."

"My, are you helping with the groceries? How thoughtful, come this way, please."

As they headed inside, Alisher Usmanov approached the bewildered Arthur.

"Let's go in and talk, Arthur Hodgson?"

Arthur, looking stunned, managed a stuttered response.

"Uh, yeah, sure!"

Toby, sighing at his son's dumbfounded look, nudged him.

"He's your guest, snap out of it and play host."

Regaining his composure, Arthur saw Alisher Usmanov inside.

"Who are you, sir?"

Alisher Usmanov smiled and handed him a business card, causing Arthur's eyes to widen.

"Arsenal Holdings?"

Laughing, Alisher Usmanov slapped his shoulder.

"Let's go in and talk. Ha ha."

After a while, Arthur's family gathered in the living room, listening to Alisher Usmanov talk about investment.

Arthur, feeling validated for the first time by Alisher Usmanov, glanced gratefully at Geon as well. Watching them, Alisher Usmanov asked,

"I have one question, Arthur."

"Ask away."

Alisher Usmanov pulled out a watch Arthur had given to Geon and asked,

"Why do you insist on manually winding the watch by turning the crown? It's impressive that you developed your own movement, but if it's manual, the user must reset the time each time they wind it. If not done correctly, the watch won't show the accurate time."

Arthur explained as he looked at the watch in his hand,

"Manual watches allow easier appreciation of their beauty since a rotor system covers up half of the movement or even the micro-rotor can overshadow the movement in automatic watches. That's why I chose manual."

Alisher Usmanov raised an eyebrow with the watch in hand.

"Beauty? You think this design is beautiful?"

As Arthur blushed, Alisher Usmanov raised his hands.

"No offense meant. But there has been an innovation in rotor systems that rotate around the perimeter of the movement, offering convenience without covering it. It's a significant innovation but still too expensive."

Arthur nodded with a wry smile.

"True, it's a great innovation, but too pricey. The added movement is lubricated by bearings that rotate while winding the spring, using platinum bearings and a counterweight, making it more expensive."

Alisher Usmanov, tilting his head, lifted the watch.

"Custom watches trade at high prices, don't they? Use expensive parts and sell it for more."

"Yes, that's true... but I didn't have the money to buy those parts. That's why I'm seeking investors."

Alisher Usmanov set the watch down on the table.

"So, if someone funded the parts and provided a designer, could you produce a better watch?"

Arthur, sensing the investment decision depended on his answer, took a deep breath and nodded confidently.

"Yes, that would

 be possible."

Toby, Arthur's mother, and Geon all focused on Alisher Usmanov as he spoke after a moment of thought.

"Alright, but I can't make an easy investment decision. The rotor system parts alone would cost about five thousand pounds?"

Disappointed by the non-immediate decision, Arthur nodded.

Alisher Usmanov then pulled out a luxurious leather wallet and placed money on the table.

"Ten thousand pounds. You have ten days to produce a prototype. It's difficult to send a designer here, so go to London."

Seeing the money on the table, Toby's face lit up, though Arthur remained tense.

There was one last test to pass. After a moment of resolve, Arthur picked up the money from the table.

"I'll show you the best watch I can make."

Alisher Usmanov, with a laugh, raised his palms.

"It doesn't have to be the best. It's just a prototype. We'll talk about the best when we launch the brand, ha ha!"

Arthur stood up, straightening his posture.

"Thank you so much for this opportunity."

"Ha ha, it's not me giving the opportunity, I'd say it's Geon. He turned a trivial matter into an emotional one."

Arthur bowed deeply towards Geon.

"In the East, we show gratitude this way. Thank you."

Geon stood up, straightened Arthur's posture, and smiled.

"Your skills and desperation earned this opportunity, not me. Straighten up."

As Arthur straightened, gratitude filled his eyes. The cheerful atmosphere in the living room was interrupted by a knock, and the neighborly old lady entered with a freshly baked apple pie, smiling.

"Apple pie's here~"

"Ha ha ha, grandma really came."

"Of course, I don't talk nonsense. Try some, it's best when warm."

Arthur's mother stood up.

"Then I'll make some tea, ha ha."

With Arthur smiling, his mother seemed in good spirits as she headed to the kitchen.

Unlike those with lots of time, Alisher Usmanov, always rushed by his business, habitually asked,

"Ah... what time is it now?"

Arthur, holding a piece of apple pie, responded without looking at a watch.

"It's just past 1:38:47 PM."

As Geon and the elderly lady chatted and laughed, Geon turned to Arthur, and Alisher Usmanov looked surprised as Toby commented,

"This guy's a walking clock, ha ha, you can trust his time."

Still not looking at a watch, Geon asked Arthur again,

"What time is it now?"

Toby, nonchalantly chewing apple pie, answered,

"It's 1:39:02 PM."

As Geon checked his phone for the seconds, he exclaimed in surprise,

"Wow! That's really accurate?"

Arthur nodded, wiping crumbs from his mouth.

"Ever since I was young, it seems I've had a stopwatch in my head, ha ha."

Unknowingly, Arthur tapped his thigh to the soft ticking of a grandfather clock. Geon, watching Arthur's hand movements intently, asked Alisher Usmanov,

"Why so?"

Still focused on Arthur's hand gestures, Geon's eyebrows twitched.

'Exact timing, like watching a metronome.'

Geon then turned to Alisher Usmanov.

"If you decide to invest, how much are you thinking?"

This sudden question was on everyone's mind, and all eyes turned to Alisher Usmanov. After a brief thought, he opened his mouth as Arthur swallowed nervously.

"Well... depending on the prototype, but usually around 350,000 pounds (approximately 500 million KRW)."

Arthur's face brightened at the unexpected amount, but he was shocked by Geon's next words and could only gape.

"I'll invest the same amount."

Alisher Usmanov widened his eyes in surprise, and so did Toby and Arthur's mother, freezing in their actions. Arthur, with his mouth agape, listened as Geon chuckled and pointed a finger.

"But you'll have to do one thing for me, Arthur."

Arthur, trembling at the mention of 700,000 pounds, finally managed to speak.

"A favor? What could someone like me possibly do for you, Geon?"

Geon smiled gently as he looked at Arthur's dark hand.

"Just learn something from me. Think of it as a hobby."

 The day after Geon and Alisher Usmanov met Arthur in Ambleside.

Arthur packed up and moved to London. Alisher Usmanov provided him with the costs of a hotel and meals, and the workshop was to use the office of a designer they had hired.

Unable to stay in the UK until the prototype was completed, Geon returned to the US, but not before exchanging phone numbers with Arthur and promising to stay in touch. After receiving Geon's number, Arthur murmured as if enchanted, "I... I got Kay's number..."

Arthur, who could hardly believe it, made a direct call in front of Geon and brightly smiled when Geon's phone rang from his pocket.

Before returning to the US, Geon conveyed a request to Arthur, and that afternoon, he flew back to the US with his group.

Walking through the streets of London to head to the designer's office, Arthur recalled his recent conversation with Geon and frowned.

"Learn to play the drums? What's all this suddenly about?"

As soon as Geon left, Alisher Usmanov called to inform him about the location and timings of the drum lessons, bewildering Arthur.

"Why would a clockmaker need to learn drums? I don't understand."

It seemed to have rained a bit as Arthur, now smiling, surveyed the damp streets of London.

"Well, why not! Let's work hard on the prototype and get investment from Alisher Usmanov as well! Since Kay's investment is already decided, let's try to make it right one more time!"

Filled with hope, Arthur ran through the streets towards the designer's office. Meanwhile, sitting in first class on a flight to the US, Shizuka took off her earphones and looked at Geon.

"What was the reason you told that Arthur to learn drums?"

Geon, slightly sleepy, grinned and replied.

"That man has a metronome inside him."

Shizuka widened her eyes in disbelief.

"What do you mean? A metronome inside a person?"

Geon flicked his index finger.

"Tick, tock. He has a metronome in his head."

After pondering for a moment, Shizuka asked.

"Does this mean he has an exceptional sense of rhythm?"

Geon continued to move his finger and chuckled.

"Not just exceptional. He has a sense of timing that could match an atomic clock. What do you think would happen if such a person played drums?"

Imagining Arthur's drumming, Shizuka replied.

"He could play with precise timing, right?"

"Ha-ha, is that all? The drummer leads the band. Many bands have a guitarist or vocalist as the leader because they compose, not because they are the center of performance. Whether it's guitar or vocals, everyone plays or sings to the beat laid down by the drums. Precise timing is a very critical issue."

"Hmm, you're right. Otherwise, every musician would need a metronome for practice."

"Exactly, that's why I told him to learn."

From behind, Kevin popped his head up.

"What? Recruiting a drummer? If it's a drummer, that's my wife's role; you should discuss it with me!"

Geon looked up at him with a smile.

"You're from Montana, Kevin."

Kevin, pulling at his hair, exclaimed.

"Montana, sure! But if you're forming a band, I'm definitely the bassist, okay?"

"Ha-ha, really?"

"Sorry to Carlos, but I've decided that! Promise, I'm your bassist!"

Childishly, Kevin extended his pinky finger, which Geon saw and laughed, crossing his legs and smirking.

"Hmm~ What should I do~"

Kevin then choked Geon from behind.

"Promise now! Or we'll both die right here!"

"Ha-ha, okay, okay."

Kevin, not joking, looked serious as he extended his pinky finger again.

"Promise."

As Geon laughed and promised, Shizuka also extended her pinky finger.

"I'll definitely be the keyboardist."

"Ha-ha, okay."

After promising Shizuka, Geon smiled, and Kevin leaned his elbow on Geon's chair and propped his chin on his hand.

"But that guy's a clockmaker and has gotten investment, he must be busy with business, right? Will he even have time for drumming or performing?"

Geon, still chuckling, flicked his foot.

"Ha-ha, do you know what happens when someone with a metronome in their body plays drums?"

Kevin looked down at Geon and asked.

"What happens?"

Geon, shifting his gaze to the clouds outside the airplane window, grinned.

"He'll go crazy. He won't be able to stand it until the rhythm inside him comes out right, and that will lead to effort."

Listening quietly, Shizuka asked with puzzled eyes.

"It's painful? What

 if music becomes a pain?"

"Ha-ha, if he works hard to reproduce the rhythm inside him, he'll feel even greater joy, so don't worry."

Kevin still looked confused.

"Well, I get that he might practice hard, but will he really join a band? He's busy with his own business."

Geon, untroubled, replied.

"Ha-ha, I've already finished talking about that with Mr. Alisher Usmanov."

"What's the story?"

"Ha-ha, you don't need to know."

"Aaaaaah!! I'm dying of curiosity! Tell me!"

As Kevin yelled, a stewardess approached and said.

"Sir, you're disturbing other guests. Please sit down and lower your voice."

Kevin, nodding respectfully to the stewardess, sat down next to Geon's seat and whispered.

"Tell me! I can't sleep!"

"Ha-ha-ha-ha!!!"

"Stop laughing, tell me!"

Playfully laughing, Geon turned over to face Shizuka, briefly meeting her eyes before closing his. Shizuka, unable to take her eyes off Geon's face even as Kevin fussed in the background, finally looked away only when Geon woke up.

Meanwhile, Alisher Usmanov, after several days of bustling guests, returned to his mansion and headed to his study. As the butler followed him into the study and took his coat, Usmanov asked.

"Find me a specialist CEO."

The butler slightly bowed his head.

"Understood."

"Preferably an expert in jewelry or watches."

"Yes, that would be best."

"How's the gold buying going?"

"We're still acquiring it. But buying gold bars might hit us with a tax bomb at year-end; are you sure that's okay?"

"Yes, yes. Pay the taxes and buy it clean, I don't want regrets later if they refuse to accept it citing some issue."

The butler, slightly lifting his head, looked puzzled.

"Transfer to whom, may I ask?"

"You don't need to worry, just focus on acquiring it properly."

"Ah, yes, understood. And..."

As the butler hesitated, Usmanov turned his head and prompted.

"And?"

Glancing around to ensure no one was listening, the butler spoke in a low voice.

"The CIA is snooping around because of the Tsuh Mei incident."

Usmanov's expression hardened.

"The CIA? Why not Chinese security?"

"It seems there was some connection with Tsuh Mei."

After a moment of thought, Usmanov nodded decisively.

"Connect me to Peter Henderson, the chief prosecutor of the CPS."

"Yes, I'll prepare it immediately."

As the butler left, Usmanov alone reviewed documents from the International Fencing Federation he was overseeing. After more than an hour of focused work, he heard the door open but did not look up.

"Is the call connected?"

Receiving no response, Usmanov looked up only to freeze. He frantically moved back as he stammered.

"Why, why… I've done nothing wrong, why again…?"

His eyes caught the sight of Pyemon standing in a crisp purple suit, smirking. Removing his leather gloves, Pyemon whistled as he casually touched various things in the study.

"Whistle, looks like you're loaded."

Usmanov watched tensely as Pyemon casually sat on the black leather sofa.

"This time, you did well, very satisfactory."

Usmanov sighed in relief but kept tense.

"Th-thank you…"

Pyemon, leaning comfortably on the armrest of the sofa, spoke.

"There's one more thing you need to do?"

Usmanov half-rose and asked.

"What… what is it?"

Pyemon waved his hand gently in the air as if drawing a picture, and an illusion appeared before Usmanov.

In it, Kay was seen singing and playing the guitar, Kevin sweating as he played the bass guitar, and Shizuka happily playing the piano with her eyes closed. The illusion ended with Arthur madly drumming on a huge drum set, the location of the performance unclear due to the absence of an audience.

Snap.

With a flick of his fingers, Pyemon made the illusion disappear. Staring blankly into space, Usmanov turned to Pyemon who was smiling refreshingly.

"See? Make sure the clockmaker doesn't miss his lessons at the academy."

"Yes… Yes!! Ah, understood."

"Good, how's the gold collection going?"

"Uh, yes!"

"Keep up the good work, I might even say a word to the torture technician in hell for you."

"Th-thank you!"

"Ha-ha, lots to be thankful for."

Pyemon's figure then flickered out. A trail of black smoke rose from the sofa as Usmanov stared blankly, then he quickly got up and removed a painting from behind his desk to access a safe.

As

 he flung open the door, the sight of gold bars filled the safe, and Usmanov looked somewhat relieved.

As he calmed himself looking at the safe, he was startled by the sound of the door opening and shouted.

"Wh-what now!?"

Behind the door, the startled butler peeked out holding a phone.

"Ah… I've connected you to Prosecutor General Peter Henderson…"

Wiping sweat from his brow, Usmanov reddened and said.

"Give me the phone and leave."

After handing over the phone, the butler left the study and closed the door behind him, sighing.

"Things are getting weirder… I should consult with his doctor."