“E&S” was a three-member band.

First, the “E” of E&S—main vocalist and lyre player, Euriole.

When she was alive, she was known as the nymph Eurydice.

Famous as the lover of the legendary musician and hero Orpheus.

But in Soul Society, she was a celebrity who rose to the top purely through her own talent and drive.

She now wore her short, ocean-blue bob with an oversized shirt and jeans.

Over her ears were magical conch shells, worn like a headset.

She didn’t acknowledge my presence—either she didn’t notice or didn’t care.

She was quietly immersed in her music, humming occasionally.

It didn’t seem like she was socially awkward—more like she simply didn’t care.

Hipster.

I wasn’t entirely sure what that word meant or where it came from,

but Euriole absolutely gave off that hipster vibe.

A very successful hipster.

Next were the “S” members of E&S—the Sirens, Rilke and Carnoy.

They were sea nymphs, after all—sirens who once lived in the waves.

“I’m Rilke, a sea nymph. I play bass.

I used to be a siren back in the day, though I’m not sure if humans ever really knew us.”

Rilke had golden honey-colored hair and slightly pointed ears,

a hallmark of Greek mythological nymphs.

She was tall, like me—and, in every sense of the word, looked like a grown woman.

“I’m Carnoy, queen of bashing the drums! YEAH!”

Beside her, the drummer Carnoy had long, bright orange hair and a small, almost childlike frame.

She reminded me a little of Melinoe.

Though she looked young, she was probably several centuries old—definitely not someone to underestimate.

“Is Carnoy also a siren like Rilke?”

“…No. She’s just a field-dwelling nymph. Totally different category.”

“This is my drum set! I named it Thumpy! It goes thump thump real good!”

Carnoy proudly showed off her drums, each piece covered in what looked like childish crayon drawings—faces, probably.

“What’s this drawing?”

Before Carnoy could answer, Rilke jumped in.

“It’s Orpheus.

We formed E&S to defeat him.

All of us have our own reasons to hate that man. That shared hatred brought us together pretty fast.”

She smiled—her golden eyes glowing with mischief.

It made sense.

Euriole, as Eurydice, had her history.

But the sirens? They had their own score to settle.

Back when Orpheus journeyed aboard the Argo with fellow heroes,

they passed through a strait haunted by sirens—whose songs lured sailors to their deaths.

Even battle-hardened heroes nearly dove into the sea…

until Orpheus began to sing—

drowning out the sirens with a melody more powerful than theirs.

“I haven’t slept well since that day.

I was proud of my voice. But I lost.

So now… I wait for the day I can beat him, fair and square.”

“I don’t really get all that, but bashing drums is FUN!

Hit the drums, feel good, get PAID! Life is GOOD!”

Ba-dum! Ba-dum!

Carnoy started smacking her drums with glee.

Yup.

Now I got why she called herself the queen of bashing the drums.

“Looks like you’ve brought a curious little nymph of your own.”

Rilke glanced past me with interest.

Moments later, she and Melinoe walked toward each other—and suddenly pressed their foreheads together.

…What the heck?

Just as I was wondering, Miss Arachne sipped her coffee and spoke.

“Ah, that’s a classic nymph greeting.

When nymphs meet for the first time, they greet each other like that.

Apparently, it helps them read each other’s health and evolutionary state.”

Wait—evolutionary state!?

Do nymphs evolve like… Digimon or Pokémon?

I could’ve sworn I’d read something about that in a paper.

“I’ve seen many nymphs,” said Rilke, “but I’ve never met one as strange and unique as this.

I didn’t even know black-haired nymphs existed… and her physiology’s unusual, too.”

Melinoe straightened her back and proudly put her hands on her hips.

“This Melinoe shall one day ascend to the rank of CEO!

Though I am but a ditchwater nymph now…

It is my destiny to evolve into a myth-class nymph of legend!”

…Evolve? Myth-class?

This was getting harder to follow by the second.

All my knowledge of Greek mythology—earned through a literal Master’s Degree—was being shredded.

But Melinoe looked happy.

“Seeing such tall and radiant nymphs makes my heart flutter!

This Melinoe wants to grow big too!

Tell me your secrets, Rilke and Euriole!”

She rose onto her tiptoes.

So… height was a sore spot for her?

Rilke chuckled softly.

“I used to be that small, once.

I remember trying so hard to grow up.

Not sure why I was in such a hurry…

Being an adult isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Hahaha… ha… ha…

Her smile was bright, but her aura screamed inner turmoil.

Anyway, I was here on business.

I didn’t have time to get pulled into nymph drama.

I’ve never been fond of nymphs, honestly.

I did end up in Happy World after writing a thesis on them,

so they’ve always felt more like landmines than mythical wonders.

Time to get this done and bounce.

“Before we talk about the anthem recording, we brought a small gift from the company.”

Shhk—.

I presented a box of honey candies, something nymphs apparently adored.

The luxurious packaging sparkled.

Carnoy’s eyes lit up immediately.

“This Carnoy LOVES honey candy!

I could eat it every day and never get tired of it!

Hit drums—get candy! What a world!!”

Chomp-chomp-chomp!

She started shoveling the candies into her mouth.

Rilke smiled wryly.

“I was just like that when I was younger.

Now they’re too sweet for me.

Not sure if it’s because I became an adult,

or if becoming an adult made me stop eating them.”

Yeah… growing up does kinda ruin your sweet tooth.

Gotta watch that blood sugar.

Apparently, nymphs weren’t immune to that either.

“This Melinoe dreams of being a refined business nymph!

Honey candies are beneath me! Let’s get down to business!”

As if on cue, Euriole, still wearing her magical conch headset, approached.

She let out a light snort.

“Section Chief Joy,

I already shared my thoughts with the producer.

I don’t think it’s right for me, an outsider, to sing the company’s anthem.

That should be done by actual employees.”

“E–Euriole!”

Miss Arachne looked scandalized—

perhaps thinking Euriole was being too blunt.

“Arachne, I won’t bend to money or power.

If I’m going to sing—”

“Because I want to be free.

Freedom and liberation—that’s why I sing.”

“Understood. That’s a perfectly valid point, Euriole.

Then we’ll record the anthem with our own staff vocals.

But… would you be willing to assist with the instrumental?”

Her refusal to sing?

Honestly, a blessing in disguise.

Everyone would be expecting a breathtaking vocal performance from Euriole.

But instead, I’d deliver a rough, amateurish version sung by employees.

And the greater their expectations… the deeper their disappointment.

There was one snag though.

Krauser—the guy I brought along today—was, in truth, a shockingly good singer.

But right now, he was nothing more than a washed-up clown.

His voice? Terrible.

Tragic, but true.

Besides, I doubt he’d be willing to participate anyway.

I’d picked up on it—his discomfort around Euriole.

He was definitely avoiding her.

So the singing… would have to fall to me.

Just the right amount of average.

Zero surprises.

Perfect control.

“Alright, let’s wrap up prep and begin recording in thirty minutes.”

***

The man wasn’t fond of this talent agency.

His gut churned like he’d swallowed something wrong at breakfast.

Ugh… Sirens!

To make matters worse, it was crawling with women he had a complicated history with.

As sirens—sea nymphs—glided down the hall, the man, once known as Orpheus and now going by Krauser, pulled a contorted face.

He figured: If they recognized him, it would cause serious trouble.

Ironically, that only made him more suspicious.

A woman holding a bass guitar stopped and asked—

“Hey. You. Why are you making that shady face?

This office is staff-only, you know.”

“Ahem! I am staff. I’m Krauser, new hire in Execution Unit 1.”

“Ah… I see. Then… have we met before?

There’s something strangely familiar about you…”

“Absolutely not!”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

His heart pounded.

And then—she appeared.

Short-cropped hair. Sharp gaze.

Euriole.

“Rilke, what are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be in the recording room.”

“Oh—Euriole.”

Euriole… the name she took after evolving from her past identity: Eurydice.

Of all people—

he’d run into the last person he wanted to see… in the one hallway with no escape.

The man panicked.

He didn’t want to look like this in front of the woman who once swore eternity to him.

Damn it, I didn’t even put lotion on today!

If Euriole recognized him now, there’d be no heartbreak greater.

Yet… part of him hoped.

Wished.

This thread of fate… this tangled web… maybe we were meant to meet again.

Like star-crossed lovers reunited across space and time…

Their eyes met.

Euriole frowned.

“Who are you?

Oh—wait, you’re one of the ‘Happy World’ employees coming to record today, right?

You’re with Section Chief Joy, aren’t you?”

She didn’t recognize him.

Even though he’d changed only a little…

even though they once promised each other forever.

Was that… a relief?

Maybe.

But the sting of her indifference hit hard.

“I… I didn’t come here to record.

I mean—I am a singer. Or, well, I used to be kind of a big deal…”

He was scared she’d recognize him.

And yet, deep down… he wanted her to.

The human heart is nothing if not contradictory.

But instead of reminiscing, Euriole got angry.

“You? A singer?

Ugh, people like you…

Just because you dress flashy and act ‘cool’ doesn’t mean you get to disrespect music.

Stop dragging real artists down.

I’m sick of being lumped in with clowns like you.”

“Wh-what…?”

So what if he wore a little foundation and had long hair?

She didn’t just fail to recognize him—

she mocked him.

So that’s all your love for me was worth, Euriole?

His heart turned cold.

You used to follow me around like a lovesick puppy!

And now you act like I’m some rando off the street!?

You shallow little… fame-chasing groupie…!

Living in a cramped apartment complex full of ex-convicts and washed-up delinquents,

Krauser had soured.

Twisted.

Warped by overdue rent, a dying cactus, shattered dreams, and bitter love.

And what the hell is “E&S” supposed to mean, huh!?

For a hipster, you sure jumped on the idol bandwagon quick!

Is it the money? The fame? That what you sold your soul for!?

Gone was the noble hero once called Orpheus.

All that remained was a bitter shell.

In that moment—

he transformed.

“Your girl group—gaudy as it is—isn’t making music.

You’re just entertainers putting on a show.

Do any of you even understand real musicality?”

The darkness inside him bloomed.

—And thus, in Happy World… he became a true demon.

“Excuse me!? What the hell did you just—”

“I’ll show you which of us is truly making a mockery of music!”