Chapter17-Everyone Loves Owen
Owen held back his laughter, trying to respect the performer, and refrained from interrupting him.
When the song finally ended, a round of applause broke out.
Owen sighed in relief.
It was over at last.
That performance was pure torture.
"You there, I've been watching you for a while." The bard suddenly pointed at Owen. "During my performance, you kept frowning, shaking your head, and sighing. What's your deal?"
The surrounding customers murmured in agreement.
"That's right. I even heard him sigh."
"He's probably some troublemaker sent by a rival pub."
"Just an idiot who doesn't understand music."
Those words made Owen displeased.
These people hadn't experienced real quality, yet they still dared to talk big.
On the spot, Owen decided to show them what real music was.
"May I perform too?" Owen asked. "I just suddenly thought of a song from my hometown."
"Hmph, go ahead." The bard snorted. "Your hometown's music must be some crude rural tune! Let me tell you, if you sing poorly, you'll get beaten up."
Owen shrugged.
"May I borrow your instrument?"
The customers booed in anticipation of a spectacle.
No instrument of his own, yet he dared to perform? He must be drunk.
The bard handed Owen his spare lute. "Kid, I wasn't kidding. You'd better sing properly, or you'll find out how terrifying angry patrons can be."
Several customers rolled up their sleeves, ready to beat him to a pulp if he sang even a single off-key note.
"Haha, don't worry." Owen tested the instrument, "I'll start with a simple one."
With the crowd looking on expectantly, a beautiful and flowing melody filled the air.
Owen began to sing:
"Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away."
"Now it looks as though they're here to stay."
"Oh, I believe in yesterday."
"Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be."
"There's a shadow hanging over me."
"Oh, yesterday came suddenly."
All the sounds in the pub vanished.
Everyone turned to look at Owen as he sang on stage.
They had never heard such a wonderful melody before! Both the lyrics and the tune were mesmerizing.
Even the pub owner forgot to wipe his glasses, staring blankly at Owen.
When the song ended, the bard burst into tears.
"That was so beautiful. What have I been singing all these years, absolute garbage?"
The others snapped out of their musical reverie and erupted into applause.
Owen smiled slightly, accepting their cheers.
Of course. Yesterday by the Beaters was a timeless classic, a masterpiece that endured even on Earth, a world rich in art and culture.
Singing it casually here could easily move a crowd to tears.
After stealing the show, Owen handed the lute back to the bard.
"Sorry to interrupt," the pub owner said hurriedly. "Your singing was perfect. Could you please sing a couple more songs?"
"Please, take this as a token of appreciation."
With that, he handed over a bag of gold coins.
"Sing another one, please!"
"Don't leave! I'll die if I can't hear more!"
"Sir, I beg you, I'll lose the will to live if I can't hear your voice again!"
The crowd began to beg, and some even started tossing gold coins onto the stage.
In no time, a layer of gold coins covered the floor around Owen's feet.
"Alright, alright, I'll sing one more," Owen laughed. "This time, something lively."
"Here we go, Dance Donkey!"
It was a newer, upbeat pop song—catchy and almost addictive.
Sure enough, before long, the entire pub was swept up by the rhythm, and everyone stood up, raising their hands, singing along together.
"Dance! Dance! Dance!"
Not just inside the pub—out on the street, a large crowd had also started stomping and singing along.
Apparently, someone had opened the pub door.
Owen's voice had drifted outside.
In an instant, he had captivated the whole street.
Owen hadn't noticed that, despite the unsuitable instrument, he could effortlessly inspire and move those around him, no matter the genre.
This was the power of the God of Wine's domain.
Food, drink, music, revelry, and celebration.
Everyone was overjoyed.
People sang, danced, and laughed together, their joyous voices echoing through half the town.
Some even noticed that, while listening to Owen's songs, not only did their mood lift and their minds clear, but their mana seemed to increase slightly.
After a couple more songs, Owen was starting to feel tired.
Seeing him about to leave, the pub owner panicked.
"Haha, don't worry," Owen said. "I'm just passing through and sang a few songs on a whim. If you want more, you can invite this bard to sing them."
"Really?" The bard looked thrilled.
As a singer in this magical world, memorizing melodies and lyrics was a basic skill.
He had already committed Owen's performance to memory.
But singing someone else's songs still required permission.
"Of course. Good things are meant to be shared," Owen said nonchalantly. "Feel free to sing them whenever."
These people were truly pitiful; he might as well do some good deeds.
The pub and the street outside continued to sing and dance.
Owen's influence was so strong.
They were so overjoyed that they couldn't stop.
Taking the opportunity, Owen slipped out the back door with his pets.
If he sang much longer, his throat would dry out.
After leaving the district, Owen got a bit lost. As he paused to get his bearings, a dozen burly strangers surrounded him.
"What do you want?" Owen quickly clutched his money pouch.
Were they planning to rob him after seeing all those gold coins he collected in the pub?
"You sing well," said a young man in a knight's outfit, stepping out from behind the guards. He had short hair and a thick mustache. "I'll give you an opportunity."
"What opportunity?"
"To become the exclusive musician for our family."
Owen was speechless.
"Uh, ma'am, I'm not a professional bard. I was just singing casually."
"You!" The young knight looked shocked. "How did you know I'm a woman? Do you know me?"
"Nope." Owen thought this person might be a bit slow. "Only female knights have such a distinct curve in the chest area."
Those two obvious bulges—anyone with eyes could see it!
The girl was dumbfounded.
"Why didn't you tell me!" She turned angrily to her guards. "I even stuck on a mustache! Couldn't you tell I wanted to look like a man?"
The guards were just as confused. "Sorry, we thought you were trying to look like a drag queen."
Realizing why people had been giving her such strange looks on the street, the girl finally understood.
Nobody had said anything because they assumed she had her reasons for dressing like this.
"Seize him!" she ordered unceremoniously. "It's a boring trip anyway. I want to hear him sing along the way."
"Yes, ma'am!" The guards moved in immediately.
Owen hugged the rabbit and the cat tightly, terrified.
The two powerful pets exchanged glances and communicated silently.
"Hahaha, finally, a chance for me to make a move. I'm going to devour these fools!" White's eyes gleamed red.
"Don't." The cat gave him a side-eye. "Something interesting seems to be brewing."
And so, a defenseless Owen was stuffed into a carriage.
The carriage was disguised.
The front was for seating, and the back was loaded with cargo.
Owen was tossed into the rear, wedged between a few crates.
"Don't be scared," Owen comforted Avel and White. "Be brave, and whatever you do, don't pee on me."
"Hahaha, you're such a coward yourself, yet you're telling your pets to be brave." The girl burst out laughing.
"I'm just being cautious," Owen retorted. "And besides, you're a lady. I can't possibly hit a woman, right?"
The girl rolled her eyes.
She knocked on the glass, and the carriage began to move slowly.
Owen noticed they were heading out of town, moving farther and farther away from his home.
"This is kidnapping. Let me go!" Owen demanded. "Or you'll be sorry."
"Stop bragging." The girl scoffed. "I can tell at a glance that you're just an ordinary person. I'll beat you up myself in a moment, and then you'll know fear."
Alright then.
A man under the eaves must bow his head.
Suppressing his frustration, Owen didn't say anything more.
Instead, he began plotting his escape.