Children of the Rune – Winterer - Chapter 373

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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 143.
May Your Final Performance
Be Your Greatest (18)
“Jo?”
Lucy Eterne, who had come by earlier claiming she wanted to watch rehearsals, called out to me from across the table, leaning forward slightly. After calling my name a couple more times, I finally lifted my head. The moment I did, I was startled to find Etern’s face right in front of mine.
“Come now, it’s wonderful to be absorbed in your work, but let’s have a bite to eat, shall we? Everyone’s exhausted.”
“Oh, perhaps you’re right.”
When Etern went to the entrance and opened the door, a staff member wheeled in a trolley laden with fresh fruit, three varieties of cake, a teapot, and teacups. Selma was the first to clap her hands in welcome.
“Yesterday too, and today I was absolutely famished. Look at this timing. Etern really is a professional!”
Etern laughed as he replied.
“Somehow, delivering refreshments at just the right moment has become my specialty.”
Mrs. Molte chided from beside him.
“Selma, no matter how much you eat, that short stature of yours won’t grow at your age.”
Even as she said this, she was the first to reach for the raspberry mousse cake, and Selma shot her a mischievous smirk.
“And you should go easy on the cake if you don’t want to grow any taller than a Panojaré cedar.”
The two of them jabbed their forks at the cake in mock combat. Since everyone knew they were old friends, no one mistook their banter for genuine quarreling.
I had set down my pen and come over to where the others were, but I sat lost in thought, my mind elsewhere, and didn’t touch the food. Strauss spoke to me while sipping his tea.
“What’s occupying your thoughts so, Director?”
“Ah, it’s about the scene where Marie meets Maximilien again, the one she thought had left. I think the Garden would work better than the Castle, but that would require a separate backdrop, and I’m wondering if there’s an effective way to transition or substitute it on the existing stage…”
Strauss waved his hand to stop me.
“Never mind that for now. Do have some of this tea. The aroma is quite exquisite.”
“Oh? Yes.”
Morris’s hand approached, pressing a warm teacup into mine. I accepted it almost without thinking, and when I looked up, I saw everyone smiling at me.
“Come now, eat a little.”
“Director, you’ve been pushing yourself far too hard these past two days. If you don’t rest, even for a moment, your mind will suffer for it.”
“If you write all the lyrics yourself, what will I have left to do? Then I’d be too ashamed to accept payment. Isn’t that right?”
Except for the pianist Morris, everyone here was two or three times my age. At first, they had been amazed by my talent, or found it strange, but working together had changed their perspective.
Had they been younger, they might have felt jealous or resentful. But most of them had already passed the prime of their lives and were looking toward retirement, or had already retired. They had been watching the curtain descend before them, when suddenly I appeared and stopped that falling curtain, beckoning them back onto the stage. It was no wonder they were fond of this young director.
Yet whether I understood their feelings or not, I was simply picking at the strawberry slice atop the cake with the tip of my fork, like a solitary child. Etern, observing my face, suddenly spoke as if remembering something.
“Oh, the invitations are all done. We’ve finished sending them out.”
“How many?”
I ended up crushing the strawberry with my fork instead of eating it, but I responded immediately to Etern’s words.
“I’m not sure they’ll all arrive safely, but we’ve sent out about three hundred. Three to each family clan.”
“You sent out invitations?”
Mrs. Molte approached, her expression puzzled.
“Invitations are free tickets, aren’t they? Three hundred of them?”
At that, the others turned their heads as well. Giovani’s voice rang out.
“Free tickets? What are you talking about?”
“Is that true?”
“We’re preparing this performance with such care, and you’re handing out free tickets? Does that even make sense? Explain yourself.”
Etern flinched as a torrent of surprised and disappointed gazes washed over him.
“No, everyone. That’s not what I meant. An invitation is….”
“Then what do you mean? You’re inviting us but telling us to buy tickets? Simply spreading the word? Which is it?”
“A few invitations wouldn’t matter, but three hundred would fill the entire theater and leave plenty of seats empty. You expect the opening performance to have so few attendees? Honestly, it leaves a bad taste.”
These were all accomplished performers whose names carried considerable weight, so they had every right to feel insulted. It was then that Joshua rose to his feet.
“If you need clarification, you should ask me. It’s my plan, after all.”
The atmosphere turned cold. As people frowned at the unexpected statement, Strauss nodded thoughtfully.
“I suspected as much. Isn’t Hispania the one ultimately responsible for this production? I wouldn’t think Etern would proceed alone without the producer’s approval.”
“Yes, that’s correct. And what I want to say first and foremost is this.”
Joshua swept his gaze across the assembled group and raised his hand to point at himself.
“I possess pride in myself that is no less—if anything, greater—than any of yours. Would I truly distribute free tickets out of fear that the performance might fail? If you’ve mistaken my confidence thus far for mere arrogance, I find that deeply regrettable.”
The group hesitated to respond, their faces displaying a mixture of anxiety, reluctant agreement, and skepticism. Joshua turned his attention toward Mrs. Molte.
“Mrs. Molte, do you know what the admission price for this performance we’re preparing will be?”
“I’d estimate around fifty goblins at the highest tier?”
“You’re mistaken. It’s twenty times that.”
Mrs. Molte struggled to comprehend the statement. So did everyone else.
“I… I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Regardless of their reactions, Joshua continued without hesitation.
“Premium seating at one thousand elso, general seating at seven hundred elso, and budget seating—including the back rows of the second floor—at five hundred elso. We have only eight box seats, but we’re considering charging around thirteen hundred elso for those.”
Everyone except Etern listened with expressions of profound disbelief. They neither gasped in shock, grew angry, nor laughed—their faces bore the look of people hearing an absurd tale from some foreign land.
After a long silence, Selma finally spoke.
“I’m not sure I understand at all… Could you explain this in a way that makes more sense?”
Strauss spoke up.
“No, the numbers themselves are quite clear, but could you explain the reasoning behind such a plan?”
“Wait, Strauss, you actually believe what I’m saying?”
Strauss allowed a faint smile to play at his lips.
“Has Hispania ever joked about matters concerning performances?”
Joshua responded immediately.
“No, I don’t joke about such things. The pricing is set this way precisely because the performance will run for only two nights. Since we’re condensing what should be twenty or thirty performances into just two, the prices must be correspondingly high.”
Finally, Mrs. Molte began to laugh.
“Well, well. Our producer. So you set these absurd prices and then distribute free invitations because you’re worried no one will come? What kind of nonsensical method is that? How will you pay us performers, cover the theater rental, and most importantly, what’s the point of this performance at all? Of course, money isn’t everything, but this certainly isn’t a charity show either, is it?”
Joshua tilted his chin up with a mischievous expression.
“Of course not. Money matters. The projected revenue is around one hundred thousand elso, though it may vary slightly depending on seating arrangements.”
It was then that Bin Olfranje stepped forward toward Joshua and spoke.
“I see. That revenue would be from the second performance, wouldn’t it? The first performance fills the seats with invitations, and the second generates the profit?”
Joshua smiled and nodded, but Bin’s expression darkened.
“I thought you weren’t a child, but it seems I’ve misjudged you entirely. The idea of generating word-of-mouth from the first performance to draw crowds to the second is something anyone could conceive of, but the admission prices you’ve set are sums an ordinary person would struggle to earn in an entire year of labor. No matter how widely rumors of an excellent performance spread, who would pay such exorbitant fees to see a show? Are you unfamiliar with local prices? If you collected all the premium seat tickets, you could purchase a small single-masted sailing vessel. But then again…”
Bin turned to look at Etern.
“It seems the Theater Master knew about this arrangement and agreed to such a plan? A scheme that even a three-year-old wouldn’t believe?”
At that moment, Strauss raised his hand toward Bin in a calming gesture.
“Olfranje, that’s enough. What sort of disrespect is this toward the producer and Theater Master?”
As Strauss spoke, Bin’s composed face suddenly flushed crimson.
“No, Professor Strauss, then you’re saying….”
“I’m trusting that the producer will share more of his thoughts with us.”
“Professor!”
Joshua wiped the smile from his face.
“It’s rather unfortunate. That you can see it no other way.”
Bin’s head snapped around.
“What are you saying now? Are you talking to me?”
Though the other man’s tone had shifted to casual speech, Joshua answered without concern.
“Yes. Everyone’s circumstances differ, after all. The waterside the director mentioned as an example belongs to a poor person. But the waterside of someone wealthy is entirely different. For rich merchants or nobility, ticket prices of that magnitude are hardly expensive at all. If you’ve never experienced wealth, it would be difficult to understand, but….”
Bin’s face had gone beyond red—it appeared almost black now. He seemed overwhelmed by emotion, unable to form words quickly. Joshua had no knowledge of how many years Bin had suffered serious hardship over money before joining this production, and truthfully, he’d had no opportunity to learn of it.
Morris spoke hesitantly from beside him.
“Of course, the wealthy have plenty of money, so such an amount might mean nothing to them, but wouldn’t everyone spend their money on what yields the best return? In other words, when most people believe performance tickets cost around 30 or 50 goblins, suddenly charging an absurd price means they’ll simply seek another performance instead of bothering to see yours. And even if a wealthy person has 1,000 els to spend today, if they don’t know much about the content, they’d think it better to buy a fine carpet with that money instead of attending an unfamiliar performance. Since no one imagines throwing money into the streets, it seems no one wishes to spend money blindly either.”
Children of Rune – Winterer
Author: Jeon Min-hee
Publisher: 14 Months Publishing
The rights to this book belong to the author and 14 Months Publishing.
To reuse all or part of this book’s content, 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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