"Mr. Dubian, would you like some water?" The baseball team’s female manager, who had an especially large chest, brought over a bottle of water.
"Thank you, no need." Dubian Che stood up, "I need to go back to practice too."
"Okay, sure." The female manager smiled very cutely, "Thank you, Mr. Dubian, for always helping Kunimi train."
"If I could really be of help, that would be great." His current level wasn’t even on par with the automatic pitching machines at amusement parks.
When Dubian Che returned to the music room, the other members had already started basic training and tuning on their own initiative.
Since he would get scolded for playing mobile games, Dubian Che had no choice but to pick up the oboe and start practicing with the reed in his mouth, emotionless.
Before long, Kiyono Lin entered the music classroom.
"Let’s start ensemble practice."
Approaching the end of July, the Wind Instrument Club, once so out of tune that it woke Jiutiao Meijie, was playing with increased proficiency, and the melodies of the set pieces and choice pieces had become deeply ingrained in everyone’s hearts.
Kiyono Lin’s guidance had also progressed from the basics of breathing, intonation, and rhythm to more challenging techniques of expression.
"Stop. Didn’t I say it here before? You need to play with emotion. Why, after practicing so many times, is the rhythm still fragmented? Today we must get this right."
She always managed to find problems where many thought none existed.
However, before Dubian Che stepped in to absorb the hate, when Kiyono Lin pointed out an issue, people either didn’t believe her or, even if they knew she was right, they stubbornly refused to change out of defiance. But now, while they still harbored various feelings, at least they would earnestly practice according to her guidance.
Because looking at Kiyono Lin objectively, everyone gradually realized how skilled she was.
If she were suddenly appointed as a judge for a wind music competition, the Goda Wind Instrument Club members probably wouldn’t be surprised at all.
Thinking about this, as he watched Kiyono Lin, who was standing on the podium commanding the room, Dubian Che said to himself with great satisfaction, ’That child is someone I raised with my own hands.’
"Mr. Dubian, the F note is too high, do it again."
Instantly, the music classroom was filled with the girls’ giggling, roughly saying, ’You too have your days!’
The only disappointment for them was that for some reason, Dubian Che had become more and more handsome, resulting in their inability to find any reason to personally attack him.
Time moved on , both fulfilling and repetitive, marching briskly toward the end of July and into August.
On the night of July 31st, after a day’s training, Dubian Che sat under a desk lamp, flipping through "The Great Puppeteer" which he had borrowed from Kiyono Lin.
This short drama script told the story of a handsome adopted son and a beautiful foster mother who were maliciously slandered by the townspeople, with rumors spreading about an illicit affair between them.
The foster father went from disbelief to suspicion and finally to unbridled rage.
And the adopted son and foster mother, originally not involved, found support in each other through the "help" of these rumor-mongers, and eventually, they did end up together.
These rumor-mongers were the "puppeteers" referred to in the title, making the word "great" seem extremely ironic.
’Surely, ’remarkable’ would be better.’
Dubian Che was indifferent to drama; besides learning Spanish, he was more interested in what Kiyono Lin, as a woman and a pretty young girl, thought while reading a script with a theme of extramarital affairs.
Would she fantasize about the kind of plot between the adopted son and the foster mother?
’Why am I interested in this? A man’s bad taste?’ As Dubian Che thought this, his phone alarm rang.
[New Product: Beauty Cream]
[Beauty Cream: Removes acne, blemishes, whitens, anti-aging, repairs and brightens complexion, effective after one bottle, permanent guarantee, no side effects]
Dubian Che covered his face with his hands, closed his eyes, and pondered expressionlessly.
He should have known.
Never to have any hope in the system.
[Skill: Entry-level—Appendectomy (100), Master—Acting (1000), Master—Shooting (10,000), Grandmaster—Massage (100,000)]
Although he didn’t see the significance of "Appendectomy," "Shooting," and "Massage" were enough to snap Dubian Che back to reality.
"Shooting" wasn’t at the Grandmaster Level, but Dubian Che guessed that Jiutiao Meijie’s personal bodyguard, Shizuru, was probably at Master Level.
There was no problem with exchanging for this skill; the question was whether he should exchange for the [Grandmaster Level Massage] for 100,000 points.
Jiutiao Meijie promised him that if he could please her with his services, she would allow him free use of the firearms club.
Access to a government-sanctioned firearms club was important for Dubian Che, whether it was for handling guns and ammunition or for a suitable shooting range.
With club privileges, he could even train his "Shooting" to Grandmaster Level on his own.
Although it would be difficult, he was never afraid of challenges and never shied from hard work.
However, exchanging 100,000 points for a "Massage" skill that wasn’t very useful seemed like a bad deal.
Especially since, apart from the sign-in rewards from Jiutiao Meijie, he hardly had any points coming in.
But with the system churning out something as bizarre as "Wind Bowl Dance," who knew how long he would have to wait for it to produce a suitable skill.
Dubian Che thought about it and decided against it.
He simply couldn’t part with 100,000 points.
Besides, as long as he didn’t commit adultery, Jiutiao Meijie probably wouldn’t inject him with suxamethonium or throw him out of a car again.
After exchanging for the [Master Level Shooting] which he couldn’t alter, Dubian Che felt a mixture of being underwhelmed and reluctant to let it go.