Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 356

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 126.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (1)
Eduard Etern’s eyes gleamed. Joshua held back a mischievous smile like a child’s.
“What an unscrupulous impresario you are. I’ll have to devise ways to swindle you.”
“That won’t be easy. To manipulate a worn-out impresario like me, you’d need to either dangle glittering gold before my eyes, or make me swallow a promise that golden rain will pour down on my head in the near future. One or the other—that’s the only way.”
“Now you understand why I wanted to meet you, don’t you?”
Eduard was momentarily confused, but soon realized Joshua had cleverly quoted his own words from moments before.
“Exactly. The invisible thing. You’ve brought a promise, and you’ve brought a fitting plan to match it, haven’t you?”
Joshua narrowed his eyes and smiled broadly.
“Yes.”
“Then give me that promise. I’ll clench my teeth and hold fast until the golden rain pours down.”
Joshua draped one arm over the railing and leaned back comfortably before speaking.
“First, I need complete authority. Not just over the performance content, but over staff selection, casting, production process, rehearsals, prop creation, performance dates, number of performances, ticket prices. Everything.”
Eduard’s expression showed surprise.
“So you’re trying to become the producer? And the director too? If you take all that, what exactly is my role?”
“To catch the golden rain.”
A moment of silence followed, then a great laugh rang out. Eduard laughed without stopping for a long while, as if he could barely contain his joy.
“Ah, ah, in over forty years of living, this is the first time I’ve had such a clear and satisfying role. How wonderful it would have been if it had always been like this.”
Joshua spoke very slowly, a smile playing at his lips.
“As you know, not everyone can create such a thing.”
“Is that what you mean—because it’s you?”
“Isn’t it? I thought you’d figured out the secret.”
Eduard chuckled and murmured.
“I love that it’s not a joke.”
Joshua smiled, knowing Eduard meant it sincerely. Lucy Eterne, the Theater Master of the Diamond Rush Theater. Though she shared the rights with Callaimon half and half, unlike Callaimon—who had spent half his life at sea and bought theater shares as a retirement plan—Lucy Eterne had been a seasoned impresario in this business since she was twelve, following in her father’s footsteps until today. Callaimon exercised his rights as Theater Master only when dividing profits, but she was the one who actually ran the theater.
In other words, she was not someone who would invest a single coin in something that didn’t seem profitable. Just as Eduard Etern, her father, had been—a man who once owned three theaters in his prime and had since retired from the front lines.
Eduard had been forced to sell all his theaters after going bankrupt in his later years, but his daughter was steadily reclaiming shares of those theaters. In the Kalaisso Theater District, everyone knew how meticulous and pragmatic Lucy Eterne was.
Eduard nodded to herself in thought, then continued speaking.
“Well, I’ve learned you’re someone who makes outrageous demands. Is there more? Or have you already made a demand so unreasonable there couldn’t possibly be anything else?”
Joshua nodded.
“You could say that. I’ll need to ask how you plan to handle each matter with the ‘complete authority’ you’re giving me. There will be unexpected things, after all.”
“Then let me ask. Setting aside the performance content for now, you’ll want the best for the production team and cast, won’t you?”
“Of course. But since I’ll be selecting them personally, don’t rule out the possibility that unexpected people might be chosen.”
“Fine. Let’s accept that too. I can entrust production, rehearsals, and props to you, but I’m curious about the performance date. Is there a particular day you have in mind?”
“There’s no particular day, but it seems the opening will be within approximately twenty days from now.”
This time, even Eduard was taken aback.
“Twenty days? Can a proper performance come together in that time? We don’t even have a single production team member yet.”
Joshua’s face then revealed a light confidence. It was a confidence like a gentle breeze—as if nothing more serious than that was necessary.
“I’ll make it happen.”
Etern fell into thought and gazed back at the sea. The lamplight flickered, and soon a fierce wind swept across, striking both their bodies. As the wind subsided, Joshua slowly brushed back his disheveled hair and waited. After observing Joshua’s profile for a moment, Etern spoke.
“So that’s your condition. Well then, let’s examine it. You understand that it’s no simple matter to fund the entire pre-production costs without other investors. Revenue won’t even begin to materialize until the night the first performance opens. In such circumstances, you’re demanding full authority over the entire production from me, and all I have in my hands to decide whether to grant it is a bundle of scripts you supposedly wrote in a single night.”
Etern paused and studied Joshua’s face—not merely looking, but scrutinizing every corner of it. Then he let out a shallow sigh.
“Unfortunately, I’ve fallen for that script.”
Joshua added with composure.
“You’ll fall for it even more once it’s on stage.”
“If I didn’t think so, would I be meeting with you right now?”
As Joshua gazed down at Etern with a faint smile, Etern suddenly chuckled and continued.
“And you—I expect actors to remain actors even offstage, and you truly excel at it. Standing here at the docks without a trace of makeup, you haven’t lost an ounce of presence. Honestly, you’re practically seducing me right now, aren’t you? But what impresario wouldn’t be captivated by an actor like this?”
Hearing such candid praise, Joshua smiled without a hint of surprise and replied.
“Of course. If I couldn’t seduce you right now, I’d just be a handsome man without prospects.”
Etern laughed first, and soon Joshua joined in. Then Etern spoke.
“Where on earth do actors like this come from? From seashells or golden eggs? Very well, I’ll assume both the actor and the performance will be excellent. But not every excellent performance makes money. I’ve been lurking around stages since I was twelve, so my eye for scripts and performances is sharper than most. Therefore, even if I create a performance that delights me, I can’t be certain the audience will love it too.”
“We won’t know until we try. What will happen? At this point, there are only two paths: you invest the production funds or you don’t. Only after you choose the former will we know if the audience will like it.”
“Exactly. But until now, I’ve only pursued safe projects that seemed certain to please audiences. Most of them are rather vulgar operettas. Those make money reliably. Of course, I never intended to do only that forever. But honestly speaking, from my position, this isn’t the time for risks. I need more money.”
“Money is needed, then. Wait—may I ask a few questions?”
When Etern nodded, Joshua tapped the railing with his fingertips and spoke.
“Since I’m a stranger to these parts, I don’t know the local rates. How much is the admission for an evening performance in Kalayso?”
“Well, for performances without seat distinctions, about 10 Goblins? If the performance includes dinner, 15 to 20 Goblins. Or more accurately, dinner with a performance included.”
Joshua displayed a bewildered smile.
“With that arrangement, how much comes in from a single performance?”
“Assuming full capacity and everyone dining, you could count on a maximum of 2,000 Goblins. If you fill even the single seats in the back without dinner service, you could add another 500. Converting that to Elso, it comes to about 1,200? But such cases happen maybe once a year, if at all. Even if you draw that kind of popularity, the theater’s attendance will drop to half within ten performances, so the appropriate number of shows to break even is probably around 30 at most.”
“And you’d have to provide food for those people, so you’d need ingredients and a cook. There’s hardly any profit left.”
Etern chuckled.
“Instead, the food is quite meager. Everyone knows that and comes anyway. Just enough to survive on.”
Was this honesty about his own theater? Joshua smiled faintly and scraped the floor with his toe.
“It must have been terribly difficult to make money. I asked about the rates out of curiosity, but hearing this, there’s no need for curiosity. Never mind. If you need money, I’ll make it for you.”
The remark was so light—lighter than a child’s boast about picking pearls—that Etern’s brow furrowed.
“I’d like to believe you, but…”
“I create excellent performances, but I’m equally skilled at creating performances that make money. If money is needed, I simply make that kind. It takes the same effort as creating an excellent performance.”
The short Etern lifted his chin and looked Joshua straight in the eye. For someone like her, there was no issue more serious than this.
“Fine. You know what people from Durnensa are like? I’m not a merchant—I run a theater—but Durnensa people are born traders, and while they may not be the richest on the Continent, they’re certainly among those who lose the least. So if you want me to make a risky decision, state a figure. Tell me ‘I will bring you this much profit.’ I’ll trust you have such a plan and ask: how much?”
Joshua hesitated only long enough to form a single dimple at the corner of his mouth.
“A minimum of 100,000 Elso.”
Etern blinked several times at first, then developed a subtle crease at the bridge of his nose. He didn’t cough in surprise or ask if it was a joke. Of course, it was an unimaginable sum. But she was someone with convictions clearer than a child who believes in fairies, someone who had always trusted money as certainty. When Etern fell silent, Joshua asked.
“It seems less than you expected?”
“What are you saying! I…”
But an even more absurd statement came from Joshua’s smiling lips, cutting off what Etern was about to say.
“It is a bit less, but it can’t be helped. We’re only doing the performance twice before ending it.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Published by: 14 Months Publishing
The copyright to this book belongs to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
To reuse all or part of the contents of this book, written consent from both parties is required.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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