Chapter 14: finally the performance is done

Chapter 14: finally the performance is done

The next performance was led by their group leader, Lewis. "I am the leader of Group 2. My name is Lewis," he announced, bowing slightly.

"Sir, Miss Eliza, and honorable dog judge for today," Lewis began, bowing slightly, "we are here to present our song as our talent for this activity."

"Very well," Professor Jorge replied with a nod. "Do your best."

"Okay," Cain muttered quietly, preparing himself.

Eliza's eyes swept over the group with imperious scrutiny. She let out a faint sigh, her expression one of measured disdain. A maid stepped forward, offering her a black fan. With deliberate grace, she took it, fanning herself slowly, the movement precise and elegant.

"Do not disappoint me as the first group did," she said, her voice low, cold, and commanding, every word dripping with aristocratic authority. The faint rustle of her fan punctuated the warning, leaving no doubt that her patience was thin.

They all lined up, keeping a careful distance from one another. As one, they opened their mouths and sang, voices trembling but steady… until the final note lingered and faded.

"Nice job, everyone," Professor Jorge said with a small, encouraging smile.

"That's… quite the music," Cain muttered, genuinely impressed. It was his first time hearing anything like it, and his standards were usually low.

Eliza's gaze swept over the performers, She deliberately pause, fanning herself slowly with her black fan. And finally spoke.

"You all sound like broken radios, flapping your mouths like helpless fledglings begging for scraps from their parents. Some of you should be soprano, mezzo-soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, or bass—but instead, you merely mimic the song you all know. Has no one the courage to sing differently, to elevate it, to make it worthy hearing? And this place… it sits just beside the storage of musical instruments. Why, then, do you all perform with such laziness, such half-measures?"

- "Oh… shit… she looks really disappointed," one whispered, voice barely audible.

- "I wish Sir would give us a higher score…" another muttered, glancing nervously at Professor Jorge.

- "She's clearly heard performances by real experts. This… this is nothing compared to that."

- "This is embarrassing… please, Miss Eliza, have mercy… or step on me if you must!" someone added.

Professor Jorge cleared his throat. "Alright, time to vote." He lifted a 7-point card with a measured nod. "It's good, yes… but Miss Eliza is correct. The performance may sound pleasing to the ear, yet it is too plain, lacking any true flourish or courage."

A collective groan ran through the group.

- "Oh no… we're done for! That's lower than what Group 4 got!"

- "Don't tell me… we're the ones who'll face punishment!?"

- "We… we'll just have to accept it, I guess…" someone muttered, shoulders slumping.

Professor Jorge's eyes shifted toward Eliza, his tone formal but expectant. "Okay, Miss Eliza, your turn to give your points."

She lifted her black fan gracefully, fanning herself with deliberate slowness, eyes narrowing. The students stiffened under her gaze, realizing fully that her decision could save or break them.

Eliza released a soft, restrained sigh. With deliberate elegance, she lifted the card marked 1. A sharp intake of breath rippled through the class.

She studied it for a moment.

Then, with composed indifference, she set it down and selected the card marked 2, replacing it with calm finality.

Her black fan snapped open with a quiet flutter, and she fanned herself once before speaking. "It is… exceedingly plain," she said coolly. "Lacking texture, lacking courage, lacking refinement."

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"However, you have demonstrated one admirable quality—you learned from the first group's disorder. You maintained unison. Discipline. Cohesion."

She tilted her chin ever so slightly.

"For that effort alone, I bestow upon you two points. Consider it recognition of improvement… not excellence."

Cain swallowed.

He turned slightly. "I will…" he began, preparing to announce his score— but before he could continue, frantic whispers reach his ears.

From Group 2:

- "You'll give us a perfect score, right!?"

- "If you lower it even by one point, we'll kill you."

- "Don't tell me our voices are going to lose to those worms!?"

The members of Group 4 were already glaring at him.

- "If you make our score tie with Group 2, we'll bury you."

- "We don't want competition."

- "We'll kidnap you if we have to."

- "Don't tell us those screeching baby birds are on par with our dance!?"

Cain felt sweat gather at his temple. His heart pounded violently, the both sides were staring at him.

Waiting.

Judging.

Threatening.

His fingers trembled slightly as he reached for a card. This is insane… I'm going to die over a school performance…

He made his decision.

Slowly—very slowly—he lifted the 10.

"I-it's a good voice," he said, forcing a nervous smile. "I was… touched, its like I'm hearing angels sing."

The gymnasium fell into stunned silence. Eliza's fan stopped mid-motion. Her gaze shifted toward Cain.

"Alright," Professor Jorge announced clearly, his voice echoing across the gymnasium. "The total points Group 2 has earned is 19 points—the same as Group 4."

For a moment, the gymnasium fell into silence.

Then the irritated and sad whispers began.

- "Fuck…"

- "We'll remember this."

- "I guess we just pray the next two groups score lower…"

The next performances went on, one after another. Smiles were forced. Every group now understood what was at stake.

When the third group's score was revealed, it was 19. Then the final group received 20. That was it. The results were undeniable.

Group 1.

Group 2.

Group 4.

All tied at nineteen. Group 3 was the only one that had a higher score, which meant they were the only ones who were safe and the only ones who would not soon face the punishment.

When the performance finally concluded, Eliza rose from her seat slowly.

With a flick of her wrist, she let the number cards fall onto the floor as though they no longer deserved her attention.

"Very well," she said coolly. "We are finished here."

Her maid immediately stepped beside her, adjusting the folds of her uniform and offering the black fan once more. Eliza accepted it with poised grace.

"I have matters of far greater importance to attend to."

Then, her eyes shifted—slowly, deliberately—toward Cain.

A faint, knowing smile touched her lips.

"I shall be going shopping," she said smoothly. "It is an activity in which one acquires things entirely unnecessary… simply because one can."

She tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharp with amusement.

"Oh… it must be your first time hearing of such a concept, commoner." A soft, airy laugh escaped from her as she turned away.

"Farewell, everyone."

And just like that, she walked off, leaving them all behind.