The performance ended.
Even though the sound of the guitar had stopped, the audience didn’t react. Not a single clap could be heard.

‘They were all too eager to criticize me before…’

I glanced up at the audience, and those who had just experienced the Queen’s music for the first time looked stunned, including the middle-aged man who had challenged me earlier.

As I stared at him incredulously, he seemed to feel the weight of my gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly before shouting,

"Well, you play well enough, but… it wasn’t enjoyable to listen to! That noisy piece doesn’t compare to good old classical music…."

Leaving the middle-aged man to his praises of classical music, I approached the performer who had lent me the guitar. He looked at me with a mix of disbelief and awe as he gingerly accepted the instrument back.

“…I’ll treasure this for the rest of my life.”
"Excuse me?"
"How… how did you play something like that? I’ve never heard anything like it."
"Ah, well."
"Do you think I could ever play music like that?"

Hearing his question, I nodded quietly. Could he play rock?

"Of course."

Rock was open to everyone.

After returning to the lab,
I realized my earlier thoughts had been wrong. While the Queen’s music had once set the Earth ablaze with excitement, that alone couldn’t explain the intensity I had felt.

‘No rock here… what is this?’

Rock.
Also known as Rock ‘n’ Roll. Its essence could be summarized in one word: resistance.

Resistance against unjust oppression, against the flow of time, against generational conflict, against racial discrimination.

Rock ‘n’ Roll—rock itself—was all about resisting external forces that tried to suppress you. Naturally, such a genre didn’t exist in this world.

‘Why would anyone sing when they can be a villain instead?’

In a world where nearly everyone was born with superpowers, where abilities often surpassed the power of a handgun and sometimes even a tank or bomber, the idea of someone singing instead of fighting back seemed absurd.

If you had the power of a tank, why sing? Just blow the enemy’s head off with your main cannon.

Thus, most people who had the ability to create entire genres funneled their power into villainy. They didn’t voice their resistance; they acted on it.

‘This is a problem.’

In other words, I had unknowingly sown the seeds of rock in this world. And not just anywhere—right in front of people with a deep interest in the arts. In a field ripe for growth, I had scattered those seeds along with plenty of fertilizer.

As I considered what kind of waves this might create, I stopped myself. The seeds had already been planted. Brooding over it wouldn’t yield any solutions.

When someone lights a fuse in a powder keg, their best options are to either run as far away as possible or yell "fire!" to alert others.

I chose the former.
In other words, even as the internet and public buzzed with excitement over rock, I deliberately turned a blind eye.

The daily life of an evil scientist is quite monotonous.
I go to work, lock myself in the lab, and conduct my research.
When that’s done, I assist fellow executives or take on requests from subordinates.
And when even that’s finished, there’s truly nothing left to do. I pass the time watching movies or dramas, and when I get bored, I delve into comics or anime.

There’s no real reason to leave the headquarters of the evil organization. The outside world is too dangerous. Why risk going out alone when I could end up in some kind of trouble?

As a result, the events that occur in my life are repetitive, and the relationships I form are limited.

[Um... Scientist? Someone claiming to be your lover is here to see you...]
"…Who?"

So, no, I didn’t have time to date anyone, and I certainly never had a lover. Whoever was calling themselves my lover in the lobby was definitely a fraud.

Still, I decided to meet the imposter. In a life of predictable monotony, I didn’t want to miss out on something special. But when I saw who the fraud was, my expectations fell flat.

"Miss Milkia. What brings you here?"
"…I didn’t expect you to actually let me in."
"Well, I was curious to see who would pull such a prank."

I looked at Milkia, who had come all the way here pretending to be my lover. I didn’t need to be cautious; she would have gone through a body check and a thorough background investigation before even getting this far. If she had any dangerous abilities, she wouldn’t have made it to this floor.

Besides, if she had any real power, she wouldn’t have given up on being a hero after getting beaten by low-ranking soldiers. As I gave a sarcastic smile, Milkia tilted her head, confused.

"What’s so funny?"
"Nothing in particular. So, how did you know I was here?"
"I saw it on your website."
"…The website?"
"Yes. It said you were here."

I suppose I had mentioned something about that before. That there was no need to be afraid since the executives’ profiles were all listed on the website. I just didn’t expect someone to take it so literally.

Anyway, now that I knew how she found me, it was time to ask why. As Milkia sipped her tea, she cautiously spoke.

"I have a favor to ask."
"A favor? I don’t think we’re close enough for that."
"Well, we can become closer. After all, I’m your lover."

Milkia playfully teased, joking about her fake lover status. I let out a laugh and shrugged, gesturing for her to continue.

"Alright, dear. What do you need?"
"…You’re quite witty."
"You started it."
"Yes, well. I’ll get straight to the point… Please teach me music."
"Music?"

I raised an eyebrow in confusion. Who was she? The prodigy of the Pocatou family, a renowned violinist. She wasn’t someone who needed to learn from anyone else. She was at the stage where she should be paving her own path.

But of all people, why ask me—someone who couldn’t even play the violin—to teach her music?

"I don’t know how to play the violin."
"Not violin… guitar."
"Guitar?"
"Yes. I heard you play it outside the concert hall the other day."
"I’m not skilled enough to show off in front of a professional. How embarrassing."

I chuckled awkwardly, my guitar skills only at a hobbyist level. But Milkia’s eyes sparkled as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

"Embarrassing? It was an amazing performance!"
"Thank you."
"…Ahem, anyway. That performance. The passion it held. The freedom within it. I want to learn that."

Seeing Milkia bow her head, pleading for me to teach her about rock, I scratched my cheek in awkwardness. While it was true that rock and rock 'n' roll were born from the spirit of resistance and freedom, I couldn’t claim to embody those ideals.

All I could do was pass along music from a distant past. Whether she could grasp the longing for resistance and freedom within it was up to her. It wasn’t something I could teach.

As I shook my head, Milkia lowered hers in disappointment.

"I finally found something I want to do…."
"Then do it. You’ll learn well enough without me teaching you."
"…That’s not good enough. I want to be good at it now."
"As a musician yourself, you should know. That’s impossible. Your skill comes from daily effort, not from who your teacher is."
"But I don’t have time for that…."

With a trembling voice, Milkia confessed her true feelings.
She didn’t just want to be the best; she wanted to be the first.
She saw potential in my performance, the possibility of leaving her mark on history.
She needed to be good now, to show people immediately.
If she started practicing now, it would be too late. By the time she had honed her skills, others would have already interpreted her music, and she would never be the first or—more importantly—special.

Hearing this, I understood the deep inferiority complex in her heart. She desperately wanted to be special. Uniquely special, by her own strength.

Some might say that she was already in a special position, but to a manufactured genius like her, those words would likely mean nothing.

Nodding as if I understood, I stood up from my seat.

"─Miss Milkia, do you really want to be special?"
"Yes? Yes…"
"Are you willing to give up anything for that?"
"Give up… anything? Yes, I’ll give up anything!"
"Even if it means never being able to play the violin again?"

At that.
Milkia hesitated for a moment.
But after a brief pause, she answered without wavering, fitting for someone her age.

"Yes! Even if I can never play the violin again—!"
"─You said it yourself."
"Huh?"

As Milkia tilted her head in confusion, I left her side and returned with a syringe from the lab.

"Congratulations, Miss Milkia. From today, you will truly become special."
"W-Wait, hold on a second—!"

Ignoring her panic, I grabbed her arm and injected the substance.