When Austin Taylor, the bar's resident singer, stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted in excitement once again.
With his guitar in hand, Austin exuded raw rockstar energy. His long hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his outfit—a pair of ripped skinny jeans with gaping holes, paired with bold, edgy accessories around his neck and arms—oozed rebellious charm. His style was strikingly unconventional, but within the lively atmosphere of the bar, it all came together seamlessly, creating a perfect harmony between performer and setting.
Fanmuir, who had never truly experienced music before, found the performance both fascinating and puzzling. Though he had never studied music, his innate connection to nature gave him an unparalleled understanding of its essence. As a being who had mastered the ebb and flow of life itself, he understood the profound relationship between sound and emotion.
To him, music was nature's way of speaking to the soul—an art form that captures the beauty and melancholy of existence, channeling the joys and sorrows of human experience to strike a chord deep within. Good music succeeds because it stirs the listener's emotions, evoking joy, sadness, or nostalgia through shared resonance.
But understanding music's essence and mastering its craft are entirely different. Fanmuir's deep comprehension of nature allowed him to perceive flaws in even the most acclaimed compositions, yet his lack of technical knowledge in musical theory left him unable to refine or improve them himself.
As he listened to Austin Taylor's performance, Fanmuir found the music rough and unpolished. In his mind, he instinctively reworked the melodies, sculpting them into perfection through an imagined symphony of revisions. Yet, despite its imperfections, he admired how a mortal could create and perform music that resonated so powerfully with its audience.
In that moment, Fanmuir felt a deep appreciation for modern humanity—not only for their groundbreaking scientific advancements but also for their vibrant and distinctive musical expressions. He realized how much he had missed by overlooking the vast creativity of billions of humans.
Resolving to correct this oversight, Fanmuir steadied himself. He would fully immerse himself in the study of human civilization, exploring its countless cultural and intellectual treasures.
As the night deepened, the bar reached its peak. The DJ's electrifying beats, the dancers' sultry moves, and the uninhibited revelry of the crowd created a feverish, intoxicating atmosphere. For the first time, Fanmuir saw humanity's more indulgent side—the dazzling allure of hedonism and decadence. The chaotic scenes reminded him of the inner demons he had fought during his years of cultivation.
The wild, unrestrained behavior and provocative dances that ignited desires mirrored the temptations that had nearly driven him to madness in the past. It was these dangers that had prompted him to leave the Alps, seeking not just to refine his powers but to strengthen his spirit by confronting the mortal world head-on. The teachings of his Apollo bloodline were profound yet perilous, and the path to mastering them had led Fanmuir to the brink of losing himself more than once. Only his pure and steadfast heart had allowed him to narrowly escape each time.
The scenes before him stirred his spirit, making him uneasy. But at the same time, they offered a revelation: by immersing himself in such environments and growing accustomed to them, he could lessen their hold over him. This realization filled Fanmuir with hope. Perhaps he was finally on the path to defeating his inner demons and reaching new heights in his cultivation.
The modern sciences of humanity had already proven valuable to him. Since he began studying human knowledge, Fanmuir had been exploring ways to integrate these advancements to enhance his powers and build resilience against his inner struggles.
With this understanding, Fanmuir no longer resisted the debauchery of the bar. Instead, he chose to observe it with a calm and balanced heart. Time passed quickly, and soon it was eleven o'clock. Surprisingly, the crowd at the bar showed no signs of thinning.
Fanmuir couldn't help but appreciate the kindness Caroline had shown in letting him finish work at eleven—a rare privilege. Of course, Caroline didn't know the true value of the pink teddy bear he had given Chloe. Embedded in its right eye was a seven-colored gem, imbued with Fanmuir's protective energy—a talisman that would guard Chloe from harm and ensure her well-being.
At eleven, Fanmuir said his goodbyes to Caroline and stepped out into the quiet streets along the Seine. The sparsely populated road offered him the chance to stretch his powers without being noticed, but Fanmuir chose to enjoy the simple pleasure of walking home like an ordinary person.
Half an hour later, he arrived at his dormitory. As expected, Room 506 was alive with its usual chaos. The sound of boys howling from the showers, the clatter of wash basins—it all blended into a symphony of college dorm life, a strange yet comforting melody that Fanmuir was growing to appreciate.
When Fanmuir stepped back into the dorm, the distinct, intoxicating scent of women's perfume clung to him, instantly catching the attention of his five roommates. They exchanged knowing glances and wasted no time interrogating him about where he'd been—whether he had been on a date or had an exciting romantic encounter. But Fanmuir remained as silent as a stone, refusing to reveal anything. From the top bunk, Lonnie Spencer nearly bounced in frustration, desperate for answers. Despite their best efforts, they got nothing out of him, and with no other choice, the group eventually surrendered to sleep. Meanwhile, Fanmuir's mind roamed tirelessly through the endless ocean of knowledge within his consciousness.
In the days that followed, Fanmuir found himself captivated by music. He dove into the library, voraciously consuming every book on music theory and instrumentation, both ancient and modern. With his extraordinary abilities, it didn't take long for him to read through the entire music section. Closing the final book, he felt a profound sense of awe once more for humanity's modern civilization. In just a few days, Fanmuir had gained a comprehensive understanding of music theory and instruments.
With this newfound knowledge, the missing pieces fell into place. What Fanmuir had lacked was merely a method to express music. Now, equipped with the techniques of composition, performance, and instrumentation, his deep understanding of life, soul, and nature allowed him to effortlessly create and perform music at an unparalleled level. These skills seemed second nature to him, as if they had always been within his reach.
On Friday, Fanmuir finally saw Rodriguez, the master cellist Delfina had praised so highly. The golden-haired, green-eyed musician carried himself with remarkable poise and elegance. Judging by the warm reception from the bar's patrons, his performances were highly regarded. However, to Fanmuir's finely tuned ears, while Rodriguez's technique was solid, the music itself felt lackluster, failing to tap into the cello's full expressive potential. Compared to Austin Taylor's fiery rock performances, Rodriguez's music felt uninspired. Surprisingly, Fanmuir found himself more impressed by Austin's raw energy and musical storytelling than by Rodriguez's refined yet restrained performance.
The school's sports day was just around the corner, and Fanmuir had become something of a freshman sensation. News of his daring decision to compete in seven events had even reached Olivia, their stunning English teacher. After class, Olivia made a point of encouraging him, saying, "Good luck, Fanmuir! I'm proud to have such a bold and courageous student." Her kind words filled Fanmuir with gratitude.
However, not everyone shared Olivia's support. Fanmuir had endured countless whispered jabs and mocking looks from those who didn't know the full story. Even Helena, who had spent the past month keeping a cool distance from him, couldn't resist taking a dig. "Seven events, huh? You'd better work hard and not embarrass yourself!" she quipped, her tone sharp but playful. Fanmuir brushed it off without much reaction.
The situation left his roommates feeling deeply guilty. They were genuinely worried about Fanmuir's not-so-muscular physique. They hadn't expected their playful stunt—signing him up for seven events as a joke—to snowball into a schoolwide spectacle. Word had even spread to the business school, which shared some classes with them. The pressure was mounting, and the thought of Fanmuir failing in front of everyone weighed heavily on their minds.
To make amends, the roommates took turns treating Fanmuir to meals and showering him with gestures of support. Even when Fanmuir returned late at night from his mysterious outings, they refrained from asking questions. Fanmuir, for his part, chose not to confront them about the situation. He quietly appreciated their efforts, enjoying the guilt-driven camaraderie. As for the sneers and gossip from others, Fanmuir paid them no mind, letting it all roll off his back.
Another bustling Friday night at the bar, and by eleven o'clock, as always, Fanmuir approached Caroline to let her know he was getting off.
But tonight, something was different. Caroline's usually poised demeanor gave way to a hint of hesitation, as though she wanted to say something but wasn't sure how. In the dim bar light, Fanmuir could still make out every nuance of her expression. Curious, he asked, "Caroline, is there something on your mind?"
"It's nothing major," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I just wondered if you might be free tomorrow. Chloe's been asking about you and wanted me to invite you to the zoo." To Fanmuir's surprise, the ever-composed and elegant Caroline seemed almost shy, her demeanor carrying an unexpected girlish charm. Even Caroline herself couldn't quite believe she was acting this way.
Fanmuir couldn't ignore how beautiful and endearing Caroline looked in that moment. But he was also a man of principle, and with a heavy heart, he declined the invitation, knowing he'd already committed to something else.
"What? You're participating in your school's sports meet tomorrow?" Caroline's smile faltered briefly, but she quickly recovered, adding graciously, "I'll explain it to Chloe. Another time, when you're free, we'll plan something together."
As Fanmuir walked away into the night, Caroline watched him leave, a small flicker of disappointment crossing her face. But as she stood there, a sudden idea struck her—she knew exactly where she'd be going tomorrow.