Devil’s Music - Chapter 94: The Leopard That Lost Its Fangs

The audience began to cheer, chanting Phil’s name.

“Phil! Phil!”

“Pantera! Pantera!”

As the cheers reached Phil, his face stiffened slightly, and Walter noticed his reaction. Geon didn’t know how to react to the change in Phil’s expression. When the audience continued to cheer for Phil, he stood up and walked onto the stage, as if conceding to their demands.

The crowd cheered even louder as Phil approached the stage.

“Phil! Phil! Phil!”

Phil went up on stage and extended his hand to the vocalist, holding the guitar. Smiling, the vocalist handed him the microphone and introduced himself.

“Welcome. I’m Phil Anselmo. I’m the vocalist and lead for Black Sistrum.”

Phil looked at Kevin with a slight frown.

“And the lead guitar?”

Kevin pointed to his right.

“Yeah, the guy with brown hair over there is our lead guitarist. His name is Dominic.”

Dominic, with his long brown hair and slim figure, raised his hand in greeting as he held the guitar. Phil nodded. Holding the microphone, he surveyed the audience for a moment, and the cheers gradually subsided.

After taking a deep breath, Phil spoke into the microphone.

“I wonder if I can satisfy you all with an impromptu performance.”

The audience cheered again.

“Wow!! Just hearing Phil’s vocals again is more than enough for us!”

“Hurry up, Phil!”

Phil took the microphone off, looked at Dominic, and asked.

“Do you have a song you can confidently play from my repertoire?”

Dominic hesitated before replying.

“Anything from Pantera is fine, Phil.”

After a moment of thought, Phil spoke into the microphone.

“Let’s sing for my friend who still lives in my heart. Let’s go! ‘Cemetery Gates!'”

As Phil announced the song title, Dominic’s guitar playing began. The eerie arpeggio intro of “Cemetery Gates” echoed through the venue, followed by Phil Anselmo’s distinctive, deep, and rough voice.

Reverend, Reverend. Is this some conspiracy?

Crucified for no sins, an image beneath me

What’s within our plans for life, it all seems so unreal

Dominic’s playing layered over Kevin’s arpeggios. The audience, swaying to the slow beat, immersed themselves in the beautiful and mysterious melody. Geon watched Phil closely after singing without any movement and focused on Dominic’s guitar playing. Phil had been frowning since the end of section A and continued to do so during the mid-guitar interlude.

Finally, the beat quickened, and the sharp picking, reminiscent of Dimebag Darrell, began. Geon noticed Dominic sweating profusely, giving his best to replicate the sharp sound of Dimebag Darrell. Walter shook his head with a sigh.

“Phew, here we go again.”

Geon checked Phil’s reaction to Walter’s words. Just as Dominic’s performance started to intensify, Phil, who had been sitting, stood up abruptly and threw the microphone towards Dominic. Dominic, hit by the flying microphone, fell to the ground.

As the noise of the falling guitar echoed through the speakers, the audience covered their ears. Phil approached the fallen Dominic, ready to kick him.

“You trash! Is this what you call playing? Just die!”

Not satisfied with kicking Dominic, Phil grabbed the thrown microphone and attempted to hit Dominic with it. However, Kevin intervened, holding Phil back with all his strength.

“Why are you doing this!!! Calm down, Phil!”

Struggling and yelling, Phil shouted.

“This! Let go! I won’t forgive anyone who disrespects Dimebag! Move!”

Despite Kevin’s efforts to hold him back, Phil broke free and tried to strike Dominic with the microphone. But suddenly, a white hand appeared in front of Phil. It was Geon, carrying Haku on his shoulder. Geon blocked Phil, extending a hand towards him. Phil shouted at Geon.

“Move! Even if you’re Kai, I won’t forgive you if you block me!”

As Phil spoke the name “Kai,” the audience murmured.

“Kai? The one from the Marilyn Manson music video?”

“The guy who worked as a scissor-hand music editor? Is he the one?”

“Why would someone like him be in a club like this?”

Ignoring the murmurs, Geon stared directly into Phil’s eyes. When Phil glared back, Geon slowly raised his head. As Phil, in an agitated tone, shouted again.

“Move! I’ll kill that bastard!”

The word “Kai” from Phil’s mouth stirred the audience.

“Kai? Wasn’t he in The Beatles?”

“Isn’t he the one from the Quarrymen?”

Geon confronted the audience’s noise, maintaining eye contact with Phil. Phil, seemingly more agitated, yelled again.

“Get out of the way! I won’t forgive anyone who disrespects Dimebag!”

Phil’s words caused a stir among the audience.

Geon lowered one hand and raised the other, flicking his index finger. When Phil looked at him in astonishment, Geon placed Haku on the floor, drawing exclamations from the audience as they saw Haku revealed.

“It’s White Falco! Is he a real Kay?”

“Wow! Phil Angelmo and Kay!”

“Kyaaa! Kay looks really handsome!”

Geon kept a watchful eye on Dominic, preventing him from rushing towards Phil, while he carried Haku on his shoulder. Confirming that Phil wasn’t moving, Geon approached Dominic, who had fallen backward, and spoke.

“Are you okay? I’ll take care of the rest. Take a break.”

Geon reached out, pulled out the jack attached to Dominic’s guitar, and connected Haku. Seeing this, Dominic, who was observing Geon, was supported by an agent and descended below the stage. Geon finished connecting the guitar and approached Phil, staring directly into his eyes. Phil, who had a gentle expression, seemed momentarily surprised when Geon suddenly made a serious face.

Geon turned his head and gestured to Kevin. Kevin immediately understood, nodded, and took hold of the guitar. Geon then approached Phil and whispered in his ear as he passed by.

“Take the mic, Phil.”

Geon walked towards Kevin, leaving Phil looking bewildered. Geon greeted Kevin with a smile.

“Kevin, nice to meet you. I’m Kay. Please handle the arpeggio of Juju. I’ll take care of the Dist Left side.”

Kevin nodded as if he understood.

“Got it, Kay. Oh, nice to meet you.”

Geon chuckled and returned to his position. Phil, with a perplexed expression, looked at Geon, who passed by him, but Kevin began playing the arpeggio of “Cemetery Gates.” The audience, who had been watching them, focused on the stage as the music began.

Throughout Kevin’s arpeggio, Geon added his ad-lib performance. As the section with the distinctive riff of Dimebag Darrell approached, the audience, sensing tension, adjusted their seating positions. Phil, still fixated on Geon, did not start singing even when the part for vocals began. Geon, unperturbed by Phil’s gaze, continued to play.

When the sharp sound emanated from Geon’s hands, Phil’s eyes widened in amazement. The audience erupted in cheers as they

heard the sharp sound from Geon’s guitar.

“Wow!!!! It’s amazing! Hwiieeek!”

Phil felt as if blades were cutting through his body due to the sharp sound of Geon’s guitar. Despite the song progressing to the part for vocals again, Phil, holding the mic stand, couldn’t sing. Geon, whether or not Phil was singing, played without paying any attention to him.

No one in the audience seemed to care that Phil wasn’t singing. Everyone was focused on the sensation produced by the sharp sound from Geon’s hands. Phil, still unable to take his eyes off Geon, felt as if the image of Dimebag Darrell from his past was overlapping with Geon playing the guitar.

Tears welled up in his trembling eyes, and Phil reached out, touching Darrell’s face. The tear running down his cheek touched Phil’s face. Darrell spoke to Phil, looking at him.

“It’s not your fault. My friend.”

Phil’s body collapsed.

Everyone watched as Phil sat on the floor, supporting himself with his arms and shedding tears. Geon and the band continued playing. Geon played without showing any concern for whether Phil was crying or not. After a while, when the performance of “Cemetery Gates” ended, Geon, standing in his place, opened his eyes and looked down at Phil, who was sitting and crying.

Geon slowly knelt on one knee and placed his hand on Phil’s shoulder. Phil raised his tear-stained face to look at Geon. Geon, caressing Phil’s cheek amidst the convulsions on his face, spoke.

“It’s not your fault.”

Something in Phil’s mind snapped. Holding Geon’s hand that was gently stroking his cheek, Phil burst into tears. Despite the tears obscuring his vision, Phil, grabbing Geon’s hand with his trembling one, didn’t take his eyes off Geon’s face. In the midst of Phil’s cries, he screamed with one hand on the floor.

“Uwaaaah!!!! Daryl!!!!!!!!!”

No one said a word. The hundreds of audience members in the stands, Dominic looking up while doing ice therapy below the stage, and even Walter in a corner, sitting and crying, everyone silently watched Phil, who was screaming and crying.

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