In that moment, Viola felt this melody was the most beautiful music in the world.
She stared at the gramophone unblinking. The strange, rough box now seemed the most exquisite artwork, a priceless treasure rivaling a legendary artifact. Thoughts whirled in her head, eyes shining brighter, face reflecting growing excitement. She tried unraveling the wonder's principle. As an experienced mage, she guessed the secret lay inside the wooden box, but with music playing, she didn't want to interrupt and risk damaging it.
When "Viola by the Lake" ended, the black disc still spun, faint hissing from the horn.
Reyn lifted the needle and smiled:
"Shall we listen again?"
Viola nodded eagerly, then shook her head and asked impatiently:
"Reyn, tell me quick—how does it work? Echo-crystal inside?"
"Not at all. The gramophone is purely mechanical—no magic whatsoever," Reyn replied, removing the record and opening the box lid to show the innards.
The mechanism was simple: spindle for the disc linked to the spring block, gear system, speed regulator, tonearm with needle exposed. All visible, needing no deep mechanics knowledge. But that very simplicity baffled.
In Ellunes, saturated with magical energy, any tech at a certain level touched magic. This bred a stereotype: the best involved sorcery. So, seeing the gramophone wonder, people instinctively thought echo-crystals, unable to believe mechanics alone sufficed.
Viola was no exception. Staring at the mechanism, she grew more puzzled. How to store and play music without echo-crystals or magic? Her questioning eyes fixed on Reyn.
Reyn pondered how to explain simply, then picked up the black disc.
"The secret's in this disc. Look closely: its surface isn't smooth—covered in tiny grooves. These are frozen sound traces. No magic, but they do what an echo-crystal does."
Creating this record had cost Reyn much effort and coin. Hundreds of gold shields just for suitable material. After countless experiments, he'd gotten this sole success yesterday. Then he bought an echo-crystal, recorded his clavichord play, and transferred it to the disc in a workshop. This thin, nearly weightless plate was a month's labor fruit.
Viola took the disc, held it to her eyes, studying intently. Reyn, choosing simplest words, explained: how sound vibrations move the needle, etching grooves; how the needle later follows them, reproducing sound.
The principle was simple, and Viola got it. She looked at Reyn with genuine admiration.
"Reyn, you're a genius!"
He modestly waved it off.
"The gramophone principle is fairly simple. If not me, someone else would've invented it eventually."
"No," Viola countered softly. "The principle may be simple once explained. But conceiving it—that's incredibly hard. Without you, this genius idea might never have been born. You're a genius, Reyn!" she repeated sincerely.
Praise from such a beauty made Reyn blush involuntarily. Mentally thanking his past world's great inventor, pleasure showed on his face.
Enjoying the music, Viola rewound and asked the key question:
"Reyn, what's the gramophone's cost?"
Her business acumen was stunning. She knew: the gramophone wasn't unique—echo-crystals did the same, better sound quality. If priced similarly, it'd stay a novelty toy.
Reyn inwardly smirked: the half-elf's commercial talent shone. He'd calculated everything.
"Development cost me about five hundred gold shields. But that's R&D. Mass production, one unit won't exceed two golds—maybe less."
"Two golds! Oh, Goddess..."
Viola shuddered, nearly losing composure. She'd hoped low, but this beat wildest expectations. She'd guessed ten-fifteen golds. But two! Meaning gramophones accessible to most Imperial common families!
Even if one in ten or thirty bought, what riches? How many new Long-Haired Lady followers? For the Church of Beauty and Goodness, the gramophone equaled a holy artifact!
These thoughts dizzied Viola, breath ragged. She swayed; Reyn caught her, seating her on the bed's edge.
"Viola, you okay?"
In his Eye of the Soul, her aura shimmered all colors, soul vibrating like under "Madness" spell.
"I'm fine. Very fine!" Breathing deeply, she calmed. Raising her head, she tenderly touched his cheek, whispering: "You must be an angel sent by the Goddess. Why else so kind to me?"
"Because you're very beautiful," Reyn laughed.
A light blush flooded her cheeks; she playfully punched his fist.
"Don't overthink it," Reyn said seriously. "I told you—it's a gift for you. As long as you like it."
"Like it? No better gift exists!" Viola whispered, closing eyes, leaning forward.
A moment later, Reyn reluctantly released her. The half-elf's gaze was misty. Seeing his pained face, she smiled suddenly.
"Wish I'd let you join the ritual then. With this gramophone, the Goddess will surely respond and bless me. If you want, right now..." her voice dripped temptation.
Reyn yielded to temptation briefly but asked:
"How's ritual prep? When's it?"
"I've convinced Chairman Hasilina and most Arts Association board. Voting tomorrow; they'll allow temple ritual," she said confidently. "At most three days, I'll be ready."
Reyn nodded.
"I've waited over a month; a few more days fine."
Though gramophone made success near-certain, better not risk with gods—stick to original plan.
Viola bit her lip, whispering slyly:
"Your choice then."
"You'll drive me mad..."
Reyn couldn't sit still. He firmly pulled away, descending for dinner.
Returning to Viola's bedroom post-meal, he found her in an armchair, lost in gramophone music and deep thought.
"What're you thinking?" he asked, sitting beside.
"How to maximize gramophone profit," she replied, snapping out, looking seriously. "Principle simple, making easy. Once on sale, copies immediate. Sole-name company? Competitors crush us fast."
"Yes, I thought that too," Reyn nodded. He'd foreseen it. "Gramophone easy to make. Real challenge—records. Don't underestimate that thin disc; tech not simple."
"Why?" Viola perked.
"Record material must be durable, low-noise. Making complex; mass production needs full line. I labored long; hard to copy." Pride tinged Reyn's voice. Vinyl tech in his world evolved decades. "Keep secret, at least five years competitor-free."
"One gramophone sells for two golds," he continued. "But families buy once mostly. Real money—records! One holds three songs, but world's full of great music? Buy player, tire of same. Buy new records. Plus, they wear. Low price: cost thirty copper foxes, sell fifty. Volume sales—huge profit."
"If copycats hit gramophones, thank them—they expand our record market."
— Having secured a monopoly on record production, you will become the ruler of the music world. Countless musicians will seek your favor to release their records. This power might even elevate you to the highest echelons of the Church of Beauty and Good, to the throne of the Pontiff. And then, in turn, you will be able to control the musicians, forbidding them from collaborating with other companies even if they learn to make records, thus preserving your monopoly.
This brilliant business strategy stunned Viola. Only after several minutes could she utter:
"Reyn, is there anything you don't know?"
He merely smiled in response. These were the basic truths of the business world from his previous life.
Viola silently memorized every word, but a shadow of worry still lingered on her face.
"Actually, I'm not afraid of patent infringement, but of other methods."
Reyn fell silent too. He understood what she meant. In the Empire, there was a law similar to patents, but it was poorly enforced. There were countless ways to circumvent it, to compete with the inventor or even destroy him with his own weapon. Stories where imitators triumphed over creators were not uncommon. Often, the market was won not by the one with the better product or lower price, but by the one backed by greater power. The higher the profits, the bigger the players entered the fray.
The solution was simple. Whose power in the Empire could rival that of a holy-rank mage? A company founded in the name of the Silver Star Duchess might not be protected across the entire Empire, but within Longsand, no one would dare compete with it.
Viola, of course, understood this. But she feared the Duchess would claim the lion's share of the profits, leaving Reyn, the true inventor, with almost nothing. By established practice, the Duchess would claim at least seventy percent. Considering the prospects and enormous revenues, she might demand eighty, or even ninety. Refusing a holy-rank mage was impossible.
Reyn guessed her thoughts and shrugged carelessly.
"I invented the gramophone for you, to boost your standing with the Duchess and help you earn the title of Countess Winter Thunder. How much I make from it isn't that important."
Viola was touched. She silently embraced him.
Reyn remained calm. He was telling the truth and was prepared for such an outcome. Even in his previous world, with its developed legal system, an entrepreneur with a couple of inventions could get rich, but climbing to the top alone was nearly impossible. Sooner or later, power and capital appeared at the door. Either you submit to power or accept capital's terms—there was no third path. And in a world ruled by supernatural power, an inventor was entirely at the mercy of the mighty. Unless... he became one of them himself. Reyn was fully aware of this and accepted it as a given.
"Go to the Duchess," he said with a smile. "There are only two months left until year's end. The sooner everything is settled, the better for you."
"Alright. Wait for news."
Viola didn't delay. Hiding the gramophone in her spatial ring, she changed into a simple yet elegant dress and immediately set off to meet the Silver Star Duchess.
Reyn returned to his bedroom, opened the "Book of a Thousand Souls" on his phone, and immersed himself in reading.
He hadn't finished even a chapter when Viola returned.
"So soon?" Reyn was surprised, noting that less than half an hour had passed.
Viola's face glowed with joy.
"The Duchess agreed!" she blurted out. "She permitted me to create a gramophone production company, allocated fifty thousand gold shields for startup costs, and..." she paused, "...and promised that her share will be only fifty percent!"
Reyn froze in astonishment. Such an offer was utterly unexpected. Since when had the Silver Star Duchess, known for her dragon-like stinginess, become so generous?