Devil's Music

The crowd grows louder at Eric's cry.

“What, what's wrong with him? Is something wrong? ”

“Yeah, who's Sambo Cuff? ”

“You're the gun master here. Someone who's been around since Viking was alive. ”

“Eric Clifton seems pretty upset. ”

When the performance stopped and the guests panicked, the staff quickly reported to Sambo. Sambo leaps forward, running in front of Eric's seat, looking around and smiling awkwardly.

“Oh! Eric Clipton! Thank you for always visiting our shop! Anything inconvenient? ”

Eric scowls at Sambo with his furious eyes, and he whispers to Erik, noticing the guests around him.

“Don't do this here, go into the office. Interferes with operations. ”

After Eric looks around, he looks back at Sambo. He grabs him by the shoulders and raises him up as if he's friendly.

“Come, let's go to my room, Eric Clipton. What are you doing? ”

As Sambo lifts Erik up and disappears, awkward air flows through the club. William picks up the microphone after tasting it again onstage.

“Oh, there's been a commotion. Let the show begin again, hey drummer! Give me a beat!"

The music began to flow inside the club and the broken atmosphere returned, but the case still looked over Sambo's office with a worried eye.

"Eric, you're not well. Why are you here?"

As far as the case is concerned, Eric isn't feeling well. Eric coughs on his office couch, supported by Sambo.

Cough, cough, cough.

Sambo, sitting on the couch, raises his hand to the waist dance.

“No, Eric. Why would someone so unwell come into someone else's shop and spoil their mood? ”

Eric coughs a long time, covering his mouth with his hands.

“Huff, huff. Myself, I asked Kay to help me teach her blues. When did I ask you to put her on that stage? Huff, huff."

Sambo hit me with a stuffy face.

“Hey, Eric. Shouldn't I be eating and living? Do I look like a philanthropist? This is a club. This is my shop. ”

Eric leans up from the couch and says,

“There's nothing more to hear. I'll get Kay out of here. ”

Sambo said, taking off his sunglasses.

“The advertisement started a few days ago. If you take Kay with you, you'll have to compensate for the damage the store will do. ”

Eric raises his head halfway up and looks at Sambo.

“Are you ignoring me after decades in the music business? You didn't sign your contract, did you? Do you have a guarantee on Kay? ”

Sambo stammers with a puzzled expression.

“Well, well. I want to share Kay's income in the garage of the band I'm playing · ·”

Eric raises his head completely.

“So there was no contract. I knew it. Why have you changed so much? You weren't like this when Viking was alive! You're nothing but money! ”

Sambo grabs Erik's arm and says,

“What am I supposed to do with the club if I go like this? Sit down for a minute! ”

Eric sprinkles Sambo's arm.

“Let go! I'll let you finish your performance today. But let's pretend there's no show next week. ”

Sambo said with a cold sweat.

“I advertised Kay on the website for the time being at regular Saturday shows. Let's sit down for a moment and negotiate. You have to have a conversation to get things done. ”

Eric stares at Sambo, coughing again and squatting helplessly.

"Cough! Cough!" ’

Sambo urgently said to the waiter with his handset.

“Get some warm coffee over here! ”

Sambo, who put down his handset, told Eric halfway down on the couch.

“Let's have a cup of coffee and talk, Eric. ”

Eric breathes silently and tries to shoot Sambo. A moment later, the waiter who brought the steaming coffee looked at the two of them and put the coffee on the table, and Sambo shut up.

“What is wrong with you? Kay's been practicing with the band, getting onstage, and I'm happy when I make money, right? ”

Eric looks at the sambo with a slightly blurred eye.

“Sambo, how did this turn out? ”

“No, what changed? Am I wrong? This is a club. This is a place of business. You have to make money to keep it! It must be maintained so that the name of the Viking remains known to people! ”

Eric gazes quietly at Sambo, who raises his voice. Sambo pauses as Eric pulls the cigar out of his pocket and says nothing. Sambo looks at Erik with a flimsy face for a moment, putting the cigar down and saying in a slightly calm tone.

“Erik. If we drop Kay off next week, will the guests who are looking for the concert stay put? Some customers will come from afar after seeing the advertisement. Please look at our situation. ”

Eric looks back at the picture of the Viking hanging on the wall next to Sambo. The Viking in the photo closed his eyes against the club and was playing guitar with a happy expression. It was just a picture, but it sounded like he was playing sticky music. Eric looks at the picture for a moment and says to Sambo,

“Maintenance... you said keep it, right? Having trouble maintaining your club? ”

Sambo sighs and shakes his head.

“Why do you suddenly think you sell brunches? We used to use it during the day as a rehearsal space for musicians. As you sell brunches, bands without practice use their own money to rent out their practice rooms. It's all because of financial deterioration. ”

“Why did the financial deterioration happen? You seem to have a lot of customers. ”

Sambo paused, thinking for a moment, and then sighed.

“To keep the will of the Viking. ”

Eric frowns and says.

“Will? Did Viking leave a note? ”

“Yes, I know this because I'm on the brink of death. ”

Sambo gets up from his seat and wipes the frame with a handkerchief in his arms rather than a picture of Viking.

“Did you know that Viking gives scholarships to black kids who are struggling their whole lives? ”

Eric nods.

“Yes, I know. He said he started when he was 35. It's been going on for more than forty years, and we all admired it. ”

Sambo said, not taking his eyes off the picture of Viking.

“It's been over three years since he left the world. ”

“Yes, I know. ”

“Scholarships continue after his death. In the name of Viking.”

“What? Are the families going on? ”

“No, I keep it as income for this club. ”

Eric can't speak for a moment, looking at Sambo's picture with his poor eyes. After a short time of silence, Eric pauses.

“Is that what this is about? Why I became a money ghost. ”

Sambo said with his head down.

“That's right. I thought I could hold a scholarship just for the first time when he died. But I was a fool to think a club without him would be the same as before. No matter how many famous blues musicians I brought, my guests were getting smaller and smaller. Old fans who used to go to Viking shows don't even come to the store anymore. It just became a store where outgoing travelers would pick it up and come and pretend to enjoy the show and boast about SNS. ”

Eric looks at Sambo with slightly surprised eyes, and he sits on the couch and makes eye contact with him.

“There are no more clubs full of music when he's there. It's all my fault. I was short on ideas. So I wanted to keep his will. The will of Him who was the light for the suffering black children. If it weren't for his grace, I'd be in a dungeon somewhere right now, selling drugs in a room full of mold, regretting my life and blaming somebody for it. ”

Eric looks at Sambo with his deepest eyes.

“I'm sure you were the one who remembered · · · to watch Viking play with respect and admiration and fell in love with Blues' pleasures. Seeing you change at some point, I just thought that money changed people, and I'm sorry. But I should have taken a little more of that stuff that I used to be pretty close to in Viking's life. ”

Eric cautiously says to Sambo, sitting helpless.

“Can I help you? ”

Sambo sighs as he clears his throat.

“Whew, Eric, it shouldn't be hard to help a rich man like you. But do you think that's what he wants? I'm no longer Sambo, who begged and lived as a child. The reason he left me this unmixed drop of avoidance was not to ask someone to carry on his will. I don't want to disappoint him who's watching from the sky. ”

Erik realizes he made a statement and shuts up. Sambo now said after a sip of cold coffee.

“I'm sorry about Kay. I have a feeling he's making a big name for himself, so I'm in a hurry to think of it as a great opportunity. But really, Erik, what's wrong? ”

Eric closes his eyes quietly and worries. Sambo looks at Eric and waits quietly. Eric's eyes open for more than 10 minutes.

“Here's the deal. ”

Sambo said with a glare.

“Tell me. If you could just put Kay onstage, I would accept any terms and conditions. ”

Eric takes his back off the couch, leans over and approaches Sambo.

“Don't you have any sub-bands that only play without vocals, not with the band you're in? Leave the band to Kay. ”

“Yes? They're not onstage right now. You want me to leave them to Kay because musicians don't get contracted to play on rainy days? They're an anonymous band without a name. ”

“Yes, that's why I'm telling you. I wanted to show Kay the fun that blues can give us. I didn't send you here to have an already completed band session. ”

Sambo took a moment to look at the schedule of the show and said.

“When can you get them onstage? Wouldn't he need time? The advertisement is already out and must be performed next week. ”

Eric sits comfortably on the couch with his back turned.

“Leave it to me. He'll have the answers in no time. ”

Sambo stares at Erik's eyes for a long time. Sambo smiles unknowingly as he sees Erik's eyes staring at him full of hate turn into warm eyes that adored him as a child. Sambo, who dropped his head for a moment with a cautious look again, raised his head.

“Very well. Let's do it. ”

< 154: Don Ghost and Blue Club (6) > End

case: 21185