D-Genesis: Three Years after the Dungeons Appeared Volume 8 (eBook)

Kono tsuranori (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025
250 Seiten
J-Novel Club (Verlag)
978-1-7183-5154-7 (ISBN)

Infos

It's Keigo and Miyoshi versus the King of the Woods! The sports, arts, and music worlds grapple with the impact of dungeon training. Keigo and Miyoshi finally make contact with two members of the World Dungeon Agency's Food Research Division, eager for some granular discussion about certain dungeon produce.

Meanwhile, the oranges D-Powers brought back from the twenty-first floor catch the eye of Sayama, a researcher with no dungeon experience. When Sayama earns the ire of a powerful boss after snapping a certain tree branch, D-Powers will have to find a way for him to defeat the monster while they protect Kei's identity. It might involve a little help from the JSDF, and that most powerful of all acronyms-'NDA.'

Textauszug

Prologue

Chofugaoka, Chofu City, Tokyo

“But do I have to?”

“Don’t give me the pouty act now. Are you listening, Ryoko? Every sigh is another bit of youthful vitality leaving the body.”

“But Karen, I’ve never even touched a piano before.”

Ryoko Saito’s manager, Karen Hanabusa, was lecturing the young starlet on the importance of today’s task. Ryoko, having been cast as a budding pianist for an upcoming TV role, had been scheduled to learn the basics of tickling the ivories—or at least how to convince audiences that she knew them.

Unfortunately, the extent of her piano experience involved seeing one from afar during music class and at grade-school assemblies.

“And that’s what these lessons are for,” Karen declared briskly.

“They’re going to ADR over the scene anyway.”

“And? Will ADR hide your posture? Your arm movements? Audio replacement will only go so far.”

“But...”

It was true—Ryoko needed to study the performances of real pianists in order to sell the physicality of the scene. A close-up could be used for hand shots, but overall believability depended on her whole-body performance.

“You should communicate the very essence of a professional pianist even when the audio is off.”

“Uuugh...”

From archery to piano—the list of skills Ryoko was supposed to acquire for the sake of acting seemed endless. Come to think of it, she could add dungeon exploration to that list too. Haruki Yoshida had called her excitedly just the other day.

Miyoshi’s involvement had changed the format and structure of the dungeon program quite a bit, and bought Ryoko a bit more time before filming would begin. But judging by when the program was supposed to start airing, shooting would still have to start fairly soon. Oh well. She figured that train had already left the station. Nothing to do now but ride it.

“I’ve worked to find brief openings in your schedule between your upcoming archery tournaments. We’ll do short lessons each time.”

“If the piano lessons are too far apart,” Ryoko responded, “I’ll forget too much in the interim for them to do me any good.”

“Not forgetting is something that separates the wheat from the chaff.”

“What?!”

Ryoko was practically ready to tear her own hair out as the two passed through the building entrance.

***

“So we’re going to focus on learning performance basics, rather than having a proper piano lesson,” the instructor, one Ikuko Nakamichi, confirmed. Nakamichi was a music school assistant professor, and a concert pianist in her own right.

“That’s right,” Ryoko responded.

It was hard for Nakamichi to work up much motivation for something that wasn’t even a real lesson. Nevertheless, it had been hard for her to turn down a direct request through Sany Music, to which she owed quite a debt.

Today would otherwise have been her day off. She spent about twenty minutes going over the basics of posture and hand movement, as well as offering a few tips on performance.

“I guess my nails are a little long.” Ryoko looked down at her hands, comparing them to Nakamichi’s. Manicured nails extended past the tips of Ryoko’s fingers. There was thankfully no need to keep them as long as she’d been asked to back in her pinup days, but she had still been told to keep the fingernail tips visible from all angles.

“No trimming them until after your current shoot is done,” Karen reminded her.

Even Nakamichi knew there were rules against changing one’s appearance too much in the middle of an ongoing shoot. Still, the idea of a pianist with long nails was ridiculous. She gingerly emphasized that point.

“You can play piano with slightly longer nails, but let them get too long and you’ll hear the sound of the nails clacking against the keys,” she explained. “Plus, they can get in the way of keeping your hands on the keys.”

If you struck a black key with the tip of your nail and rolled off, continuing to exert pressure, you would accidentally strike the neighboring white key. Long nails would inevitably lead to mistakes.

“There’s always playing Horowitz-style,” she went on, “striking the keys for a hard forte while hardly bending your fingers, but that’s not for amateurs.”

“Thank you,” Ryoko responded. “Sounds like there are a lot of reasons pianists shouldn’t have long nails. I’ll probably clip them when I’m doing my main prep for the role.”

Nakamichi readjusted herself on the bench.

“I’m going to play the piece now. Watch closely.”

“Would you mind if we recorded it for review?” Karen asked.

“Not at all.”

Karen extracted a tripod from her bag and set up a camera such that the piano’s keys and pedals were visible from a three-quarters view.

“Take it away!” She gave Nakamichi a thumbs-up.

“Now then.”

Nakamichi began playing Chopin’s Étude Op. 10, No. 4. The étude was certain to be used in Ryoko’s upcoming role. While it was played at a fairly brisk tempo and demanded a high overall level of technical skill, it didn’t require too much expertise in any particular technique. Difficult to learn, easy to master, one might say.

With the goal of the lesson in mind, Nakamichi made sure not to increase the tempo too much, playing the piece in a slightly languid two minutes. Ryoko studied Nakamichi’s hands intently the whole time.

“Notice anything?” Nakamichi knew there was no point in asking an amateur, but did so out of politeness.

Seeming to snap out of a trance, Ryoko thought for a moment.

“Your fingers sure were moving a lot,” she answered.

Nakamichi fought back a laugh.

“That’s right,” she responded tactfully. However, Ryoko’s next comment surprised her.

“I feel like I could probably play it though.”

“I’m sorry?”

Ryoko sat down in front of a second, neighboring piano and closed her eyes as if visualizing the performance she’d just seen.

Nakamichi, perplexed, was about to call out to Karen when Ryoko’s left hand struck a G-sharp, while her right pounded out sixteenth notes in rhythm.

Wide-eyed, Nakamichi turned to Karen.

“You sure she’s never played piano before?” In her shock, she accidentally dropped her polite phrasing.

Karen shook her head.

“This is her first time ever touching an instrument, as far as I know.”

“You have got to be joking...”

Ryoko was executing a perfect replication of Nakamichi’s performance. Sure, it was possible there was a genius sight reader somewhere who could turn in a professional-level Op. 10, No. 4 on their first go, but Ryoko didn’t even have sheet music! What was more, her imitation even included all of Nakamichi’s minor mistakes.

Just as Nakamichi was wondering if the manager hadn’t mixed up Ryoko with an actress with years of pianistic experience, Ryoko’s next comment eliminated all suspicion from Nakamichi’s mind.

“Something’s off.” Ryoko looked up after striking the last note.

Nakamichi knew in an instant. Ryoko hadn’t been using the pedals. Perhaps one could play Bach without pedals, but Chopin? Not once thinking to touch a pedal was sufficient proof that Ryoko was as inexperienced as she claimed.

“Were you actually playing from memory just now, based on my performance?”

“I guess.”

Setting aside her own rising goose bumps, Nakamichi endeavored to explain the difference in their performances.

“It’s because you didn’t use the pedals.”

“Pedals?” Ryoko looked down at her feet, where a row of three shiny, brass bulbs jutted out from the piano.

“The middle pedal’s function depends on the type of piano, and isn’t used often,” Nakamichi explained. “Just getting down the right and the left for today will be fine.”

Nakamichi explained the functions of the right pedal, called the damper pedal, and the left pedal, known as the soft pedal, and demonstrated them as she went. She only gave a simple explanation, but in short, pressing down the soft pedal would make the notes quieter, while holding down the right would cause them to continue reverberating even after lifting one’s finger from the key.

Karen pulled out a laptop, calling up the footage of Nakamichi she’d recorded, and turned to Ryoko.

“Want to check out her pedal usage in the performance earlier?”

“Yes! Sorry, give me a minute,” Ryoko apologized to Nakamichi, then sat herself down in front of the computer screen, watching in fascination.

She muttered to herself here and there, noting the precision of the movements. Using the pedals was more than just an on-off phenomenon. The effect of the pedals could change based on minute differences in how they were pressed.

“If she can replicate the pedals after just watching, it’s about time for us nongeniuses to get out of the field.”

Karen merely smiled politely at Nakamichi’s comment, unsure how to respond.

“I’ve seen some pretty good...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 11.3.2025
• Reihe/Serie: D-Genesis: Three Years after the Dungeons Appeared
• Illustrationen: Kono tsuranori
• Übersetzer: Kono tsuranori
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Schlagworte: adult protagonists • Dungeons • Light Novel • Military • Science Fiction • Slice of Life
• ISBN-10: 1-7183-5154-2 / 1718351542
• ISBN-13: 978-1-7183-5154-7 / 9781718351547