Devil’s Music - Chapter 110: Drop The Beat!

Geon began adjusting the colors of the musical notes while studying the sheet music. He chuckled briefly upon seeing the song file titled ‘Dog poop.’ Tilting his head, he glanced at his notebook.

“I’m unsure of the intended emotions since there are no lyrics. The notes are all jumbled up too,” he remarked.

Flipping through his notebook, Geon reviewed the gathered information about colors.

“There’s a power in colors that affects human physiology and emotions. People perceive colors not just with their eyes but also with their hearts. The same goes for music; it’s not just about lyrics. The emotions felt in the music can convey changes in feelings through instrumental pieces alone.”

Contemplating the densely written sheet music, Geon shared his thoughts.

“The notes in this sheet are a mix of ‘Gold’ and ‘Brown.’ Gold symbolizes ‘glory, power, wealth,’ always a joyful and exciting color. The message it conveys is ‘fits well, wants to do something,’ right? Brown signifies ‘stability, materialistic desires.’ The message is ‘always enjoyable.'”

Geon took out a pen and started modifying the notes in his notebook.

“It seems like there’s overwhelmingly more Gold than Brown. Let’s change everything to Gold. Hip-hop musicians often boast about money in their lyrics, so it suits.”

After adjusting all the notes to emit a Gold color, Geon put the pen in his mouth and pondered.

“Having a lot of money is good, but… would it be fun to make music that boasts about money from start to finish? If it were me, the goal would be to become the master of my own life with that money, not just to brag about it. Bragging about money itself wouldn’t be the goal.”

Geon rolled the pen in his hand, contemplating the notes in the notebook again.

“Let’s infuse the emotion of ‘Blue’ into it. Blue symbolizes sacredness, responsibility, and hope. The message is about wanting to become a reliable figure or decision-maker.”

About to modify the notes in his notebook, Geon hesitated for a moment, lost in thought.

“Hmm… how about leaving the Rap for the Verse and just modifying the Bridge? Using the guitar for the Interlude might be better, but since hip-hop relies heavily on the message in the lyrics, the beats and sounds play a sufficient supporting role in conveying the message.”

Geon filled the climax (Bridge) of the song with blue-colored notes, started using the Cu Base program to add beats and sounds. It was his first attempt, and the work progressed slowly. Geon, fully engrossed, sat on the edge of his seat, staring at the monitor and pressing the keyboard.

After some time, Dre entered with a juice box and said, “Sorry, I’m late. Had to talk to a buyer who came for business. Just practicing alone for a while. Let’s finish the talk and grab a meal together.”

“Oh, sure. Take your time. I’ll be practicing alone.”

As Dre left, Geon continued concentrating on his work for about 50 minutes before sighing deeply and leaning back on the sofa.

“Phew! Well, it required a lot of concentration, probably because it’s my first time. Still, it’s enjoyable. Hehe.”

Geon turned his head to glance at the fancy clock on the wall.

“Huh? Time passed so quickly. Is Dre still not back?”

After waiting a bit longer, unable to resist the boredom, Geon went upstairs. As he climbed the stairs, he coincidentally met Dre coming down. Dre, with an apologetic expression, patted Geon’s back and said, “Ah, sorry. An Apple representative came, and the conversation got a bit lengthy. Hungry? Let’s go grab a meal.”

“Oh, sure. Take your time. I’ve been practicing alone.”

As Dre left, Geon waited for a while but eventually couldn’t resist the idle time. He went upstairs. When he reached the middle of the staircase, Dre, coming down, met him. Dre, wearing a sorry expression, patted Geon on the back and said, “Ah, sorry. Someone from Apple came, and we had a long chat. Are you hungry? Let’s grab a meal.”

“Oh, Apple? Are you talking about the company that makes iPhones?”

Dre, showing his white teeth against his dark skin, laughed.

“Yeah, I work for Apple, haha. They acquired my maker ‘Beats.’ I ended up becoming an employee naturally. Come on, let’s go. Amy! I’m going out! I’ll be back soon!”

With his elbow on the counter, chewing gum, Amy waved her hand lazily to signal that she understood. Dre, grinning, gestured for Geon to follow him as they went outside. Dre, stepping into his black Hummer H2 parked next to the sidewalk, said, “There’s a decent restaurant nearby, hop in.”

Startled by the sight of Geon’s massive car, Dre climbed into the passenger seat, and from the powerful audio system, G-Funk hip-hop beats filled the air. Geon, taken aback, plugged his ears, and with a mischievous grin, Dre started the car. After about five minutes of driving, they arrived at a place called “Bestia Restaurant,” an Italian restaurant. Handing the keys to the valet parking attendant, Dre, shoulder to shoulder with Geon, spoke.

“You usually need to reserve a table at this restaurant at least two months in advance. Of course, not for me, haha. Let’s go in.”

As Dre opened the restaurant door, the attention of the guests inside focused on him.

“Oh! Dr. Dré! It’s really the place you frequent!”

“Wow! Awesome!”

Fortunately, unlike fans in Asia, American fans seemed more respectful of a star’s privacy. They casually threw a word or two as they sat at their dining tables. Acknowledging those who recognized him with a nod, Dré led Geon into a room, but was startled by cheers from behind.

In Dré’s eyes, people were cheering as Geon entered through the door.

“Ah!! Kaya!”

“Kyaa~ What should I do? He’s really handsome!”

Geon smiled as he greeted people, with Dré guiding him into a lounge-style room. As they settled in, Dré handed the menu back to the staff and said, “Give us two of what I usually eat, Lisa.”

Lisa, a red-haired staff member, took the menu with a faint smile, exchanged glances with Geon, and playfully winked at him. Dré, noticing Geon’s slightly bewildered expression, intervened, “Stop messing with people and go do your job, Lisa.”

As Lisa left, she continued to gaze at Geon. Dré, observing this, laughed as if it were absurd. “Hey, you’re really popular with the ladies, huh? Well, you’re quite good-looking. It could be an advantage or a disadvantage if you want to live as a real pro musician later on.”

“Oh? A disadvantage?”

“Yeah, many talented guys get stressed because of critics who say they only made it because of their looks, even if they debut with proper music.”

“Really? I haven’t thought about that.”

“Actually, there are many cases like that. Even if you debut with excellent music, you can’t avoid criticism about your appearance.”

Dré and Geon chatted and had a meal at the Italian restaurant while Ice Cube returned to Dré’s deserted studio. Ice Cube, after looking around the studio, hesitated and sat down where Geon had been.

“Uncle, where did you go again? Today you promised to work on something, but ever since you started the business, I don’t know where your mind is.”

Putting on headphones, Ice Cube began typing on the keyboard. The monitor changed from a screensaver to the Cu Base workspace. Glancing at the file Ice Cube was working on, he chuckled before pressing play.

“Kwoong~ Chijik! Kwoong~ Tadak!”

Leaning back, Ice Cube listened to the beats flowing through the headphones. With a serious expression, he smiled when he realized the music.

“As expected, it’s Uncle’s work. Well, you should let me know when you finish working. Hehe, this song is killer!”

Listening with headphones, Ice Cube, after picking up the empty paper next to him, hastily began writing. Ice Cube wrote without much hesitation, filling about half of the empty paper at once. After playing the music again, he swayed his body and started murmuring as he read the words he had written on the paper. Pausing the music intermittently to make adjustments and repeating the process several times, Ice Cube suddenly took off his headphones and stood up.

“Hahaha! This album is platinum!”

Entering the recording studio, Ice Cube checked the equipment, then stood in front of the microphone, wearing headphones. With passionate rap, he began delivering verses like a rapid-fire.

“Dumb Shit, I earned more money than you did before.”

“Dumb Shit, When you have time to blaspheme, you need oil in your stomach.”

“Dick Head, I am sleeping in the comfort of Lamborghini, Ferrari, and Bentley.”

After recording the rap part until he was satisfied with the sound, Ice Cube left the studio and returned to the PC, sitting down. With a satisfied expression, he fist-bumped and contemplated while looking at the Cu Base work file.

“The chorus seems like a song, but the lyrics are attached? It’s not like Uncle is asking me to sing, right? Maybe he has a guest vocalist in mind? Well, anyway, I’ll have to ask Uncle later, hehe.”

Picking up the phone, Ice Cube made a call somewhere.

“Hey Kendrick, it’s me. Yeah.”

“Look forward to this album; Uncle has prepared a track that will really kill anything like N.W.A.”

“For real, those guys will wet themselves with fear after hearing this. After listening to this, haha.”

“Oh? Again? Where are you? We broke up a little while ago; what are you looking at again? Just see you tomorrow.”

While saying to meet tomorrow, Ice Cube was already holding the doorknob and heading out. Next to the Cu Base program screen, not yet in screensaver mode, lyrics for the chorus were faintly visible on a small notepad.

“Humiliation in overeating of comfort.”

“Money is a short pulp exploding in speed.”

“The sweet fruit I ate is not money but my joyful life.”

A faint blue light emitted from the notebook that Geon had left behind.

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