...Under...ood, I’ll do it soon. Sincerely I say, be careful.
Hm... I’m rather tired. For those that call themselves soldiers, there are far too many crude people here.
When it comes to labor, I at least want them to do it properly.
They were only supposed to transport my grand piano to the battlefield. What on Earth could be taking them so long, I wonder?
I don’t need pawns that can’t be used... Tell Haaks thatI want to replace my personnel.
Nevertheless… No matter how hard I try, the soldiers have a genuine lack of understanding as to the reason why I play for them.
When I play my piano on the battlefield, it’s for their sake.
...The melody of classical music has a supreme effect on human brain waves.
When a beautiful melody is played, the brain resonates with the fluctuations...
When the soldiers are relaxed, their latent potential blooms.
Ah... a classical melody echoing across the battlefield and the harmony of machine gun-fire. Just imagining it makes my heart flutter...
Hm... I’ve changed my mind.
Earlier, I told you to bring the piano to the battlefield immediately, but... Let’s call it back.
I wish to play a song immediately.
...You, the soldier there. Tell your superior to suspend the delivery of the piano.
Mikhael: ...It’s don...? You all are late, aren’t you? I’ve been waiting over ten minutes for my piano to arrive.
Soldier A: I’m extremely sorry, but...
Mikhael: Non, I will not hear any excuses. Oh, now what happened to the piano bench?
Soldier B: That was... one step ahead. It looks like it’s already been sent to the battlefield...
Mikhael: Well, if it’s no longer here... I suppose it can’t be helped.
Mikhael: Since that’s the case, you will be my bench. Come on, get on your hands and knees here.
Soldier B: Huh!? N-No. That can’t actually...!
Soldier A: ...U-Um!
Soldier A: W-We... Well then, with your permission, I volunteer myself! May I please serve as Mikhael-sama’s chair!?
Mikhael: Yes, I don’t care which one of you it is.
Mikhael: Ah, but before that... You, over there. Bring me a clean cloth.
Mikhael: If I sit directly on this soldier, my clothes will become dirty, after all.
Soldier A: Ah, Mikhael-sama! I’m touched!
Mikhael: Silence. Do you want to disturb my performance?
Soldier A: ...Ah–! ~~~Ah!!
Soldier B: W-Well then, I will go look for a cloth... Excuse me.
.........
Soldier B: My goodness... Doesn’t that kind of soldier seem to be steadily increasing?
Soldier B: With a superior like that, I’ll never let my stomach medicine out of sight.
Mikhael: ...Soldier......anyone...not there.
89: ...hm? Mikhael. What are you doing alone here? I don’t see any of your subordinates.
Mikhael: You... 89?
89: Wow, it’s rare to see you without an attendant...
89: You’ve got lipstick on your gas mask... Did F get you again?
Mikhael: Yes. If you know what happened, I don’t need to explain. I thoughtlessly touched it and my hands are sticky now.
Mikhael: I can’t play the piano like this, of course. So, 89, please hurry and wipe it off.
89: I don’t mind getting it off of you, but... Why can’t you just say that you hate this?
89: That perverted fag, every time I see you... hasn’t he done something like that?
Mikhael: ...? You mean a kiss? I don’t mind F-san. He always has a pleasant scent.
89: ...eh!? Wh-What...? No, if you don’t care, I guess it’s fine...
89: Seriously.. I guess this is cultural difference..?
89: ...there, it’s wiped off. I’ll get you back to your superior now.
Mikhael: Good. I’ll leave it to you.
89: Ah, hold on a sec. Let me throw this towel in the trash.
Mikhael: Ah... My piano...