musicians of old

Chapter 1 Concert

I fell asleep this time.
So heavy, so bewildered.
Fanning woke up slowly from the auditorium, his head tilted to one side, almost parallel to his shoulders.

- A typical bad posture after falling asleep in a sitting position.

The environment is unusually quiet, the heartbeat is slightly faster than usual, and I can hear its voice.

The neck was like being sealed with cement, and it hurt terribly every time I lifted it upright.

It took a lot of time before Fanning raised his head with difficulty and slowly opened his eyes.

Vision is dim and blurred.

With a few faint green light sources in the distance, he could barely see the stage facing him in front of him.

There are also a row of flower pots in the front of the stage, a few chairs and music stands in the back, and a grand piano in the middle.

The black outline of the object is shrouded in a dull green.

Fanning finally came to his senses.

no?No one woke me up after the show?
The concert hall just turned off the lights?
Didn't the staff here clear the field and check it?
……

Fan Ning is a fresh graduate of science and engineering, and a deep enthusiast of classical music.

From an early age, I liked playing the piano, listening to records or concerts, and studying various composers and music theories.

With this kind of attributes, as long as the appearance is not bad and the emotional intelligence is online, it is easy to gain a group of like-minded fans and fans during the campus period, and experience a relatively rich emotional life.

Various titles similar to "Great God", as well as the highlight moments in clubs or cultural activities, made him feel that he was not an ordinary person.

Until I started being beaten by society.

A chemical company in the urban-rural fringe area, moving bricks in the laboratory, embarrassing salary, troubles in the workplace, and landlords.

In less than a few months, the elements are complete, and everything is inevitably becoming vulgar.

Fortunately, there is this spiritual comfort.

——For example, tonight, between 996 work, a 2-hour drive to the city center, and a concert of Bach's chamber music works.

Fanning's last second of memory was broken while listening to the performance.

In the dimly lit concert hall, his vision gradually adapted, and his physical weakness eased slightly.

"I never felt sleepy before. Can I fall asleep listening to music? It doesn't exist."

Confused, he stood up, ready to take out his phone to see what time it is.

Alas, I have to continue moving bricks tomorrow...

After groping around for a while, the feel of the clothes seemed unfamiliar, but he still touched the phone.

No signal, 1% battery, time 23:30, it has been a long time since the end of the concert at [-]:[-].

A bunch of DingTalk work news shows that the boss still doesn't forget to gank the employees crazy on the single holiday of 996.

But the top one is-

Short message?

[To the listeners of this world, reproduce the music in your memory. ]
[As fast as possible, as much as possible. ]
[If you want to survive. ]
[0 / 100]
The time is 21:30, and the number is a string of garbled characters.

What, what's the situation?What's the meaning?
The time of receiving it was the second half of the concert, or when I broke up.

Fanning looked around the concert hall suspiciously, feeling more and more that something was wrong.

Although the walls in the distance can't be seen clearly, this concert hall is much smaller than the impression, and the seats for the audience will not exceed one hundred.

The dim green light was not an exit sign either, but from a few dimly visible lamps high up on the wall.

Fanning swiped down the phone's control panel and turned on the flash.

Most naturally, he turned to the stage first.

With this photo, he was so frightened that his whole heart was hit hard by a heavy hammer!
Two white figures jumped out under the flash!
No, to be precise, it's just two human silhouettes on the stage plane, the distorted head, torso and limbs outlined by indescribable light-colored smoky traces, and then spread out radially.

Like being dissolved, or burned, or evaporated by something unknown.

The battery of the mobile phone is low, it automatically shuts down, and the field of vision returns to dim.

Fanning's back was instantly covered in cold sweat.

"This is... the musician on the stage before?"

He felt as if he yelled instinctively, and stepped back a few steps.

But in fact, his voice became hoarse and he remained where he was.

It wasn't until I could hardly feel the existence of my body that I mustered up the courage to move my legs.

He didn't dare to turn around, let alone run, but backed up step by step, off the stage, backed to the bottom of the wall, and backed to a corridor-like connection, turned around and plunged into the darkness.

At the end of the darkness, after fumbling around for a while, I finally found something like a door gate, and then pushed it open.

Bright lights shone into his eyes.

It wasn't the sunlight from outside, but the flashlights in the hands of several people outside the door.

"Police, stop and calm down!"

In the glaring discomfort, Fanning's vision was intermittent and blurry.

He saw the three-breasted black uniforms first, then the khaki fringed epaulets and sleeve decorations, and finally saw the red and white checkered wide-brimmed hats on their heads and the dignified expressions under the hats.

"." Fanning was stunned, not only because of their attire and appearance, but also because of what they said.

He had never heard this language before, and now he became familiar with it at a strange speed.

This sentence was like a huge spoon, violently stirred in his mind, causing something to shatter, and brought out a lot of chaotic memory fragments:
This is Uvransel in the year 912 of the new calendar, the second largest industrial city in the Tioleen Empire.

Carolne Van Ning, a fourth-year student at Saint Lenia University, majoring in Musicology.

His father was a well-known folk artist in this city and the director of the Turner Art Museum. He lost contact with him three years ago and has not heard from him until now. His mother died of illness many years ago.

In this era, there is no longer a feudal strict hierarchy, but there are still differences in social classes. The upper class resources belong to the nobles, school lords, big factory owners, and the mysterious and rumored extraordinary group with a transcendent status-"those who know".

With his middle-class background, it is very difficult for him to get into the threshold of this imperial aristocratic public school.

But his father's identity as an artist seems to have a great bonus in this world.

Of course, as soon as he disappeared, his status in the school quickly changed from passerby level to sewer level.

If it wasn't for paying high tuition fees for four years at one time when entering school, it is possible to be kicked out now.

Naturally, the operation of the museum is also unsustainable.

At first, I sold some of my father's paintings for debt settlement, equipment maintenance and staff salaries.

Later, I had to dismiss the staff, close the museum, cut down on food and clothing, and lived alone in a small apartment.

Time travel, time travel by yourself?
Fanning's head throbbed again and again, and the chaotic and complicated memory fragments crowded and pushed each other, gradually turning into disturbed roars and ravings in his ears.I changed from standing to squatting, from squatting to lying down, and the figures of the policemen became more and more blurred in my sight.

……

Opening his eyes again, what Fanning saw was the ceiling.

and also
Why is this thing still in front of me?

Last line of SMS: [0/100]
The faint pale gold color made Fanning suspect that he was dazzled.

It seems that when I have this thought, it becomes more obvious, and the shift of attention fades to almost transparent.

"Are you awake? Mr. Carlone Van Ning? Please get up first if you are still in good spirits."

A voice very close interrupted his thoughts.

This is the Hoffman language, the official language of the Tiorian Empire, and the language spoken by the Hoffman people with the largest population.

Fanning got up and sat on the edge of the hard plank bed.

A small room with gray walls and two mahogany tables.

The pale light of the carbonized lamp hit the only pen and paper on the table and a vertical glass.

The water in the glass reflected cold light.

Opposite them sat two policemen, well-dressed, burly, with serious faces.

One of them unscrewed the cap of his pen: "Let me introduce myself, Newman Ellens, Senior Superintendent of the Uvransal Police Department, responsible for security work in the Nelenia neighborhood."

"I slept all night? Also, are you going to question me?"

Fan Ning, who had just crossed over, was a little flustered.

He didn't know whether the human silhouette on the stage was a prank or an abnormal death of a living person, and he was not sure whether he was the innocent party or the perpetrator?
Calm down, at least judging from the original owner's relatively complete memory, he didn't do this by himself, and there is no need to hide anything, so let's answer the truth first.

Fanning settled down: "Okay, Officer Ellens."

The police officer took out an item from the drawer and put it on the table: "Explain first, what is this?"

Fan Ning looked at his brand new touch-screen phone, and checked the original owner's memory of this world again.

Then the forehead and vest started to sweat.

In this Victorian-like steam industry world, I'm not very good at explaining to you, you know?

Do you believe me that this is the latest flashlight in the empire?
No, how can there be someone who wears clothes just after crossing?
　Internal investment works, please rest assured to invest in the readers ~ (ps: not a system article)

　　
　
(End of this chapter)