Ch.5001 Investigation Record – The Golden Age of Jazz (2)

The interior of the building was filled with immaculate decorations. The ceiling was so high it was impossible to gauge its height, and the chandelier hanging from it seemed large enough to support the entire ceiling.

The lobby walls featured strong straight lines and metallic finishes that seemed to boast of the concrete building’s strength. It was apparently the trendy Art Deco style, but I found the imagery too strong to really appreciate.

So, I didn’t photograph that and instead waited for the elevator to arrive. Due to the building’s height, even the ride up took quite some time.

“I wonder when I’ll get to cover a building like this for work. Since we’re not a major newspaper, they don’t even invite us.”

I tossed out a joking comment as I grew bored waiting for the elevator.

“Are you planning to join a major newspaper? Your father would…”

“I know, I know. He’d say I can live as I please for a few years, but eventually I should take over the family business. But he’s been saying that since I left home, and he still doesn’t seem too concerned about it.”

I had never imagined how long this ambiguous freedom would last. Not for any particular reason, but… I just wanted to believe it wouldn’t end anytime soon.

The word “family business” somehow resembled a rope to me. It felt like a rope that lined people up and bound them together. Was I still thinking like a child? I decided to postpone finding an answer.

Only after that trivial yet not-so-light conversation ended did the elevator finally arrive. As soon as the doors opened, the early spring wind blew in, colder and stronger up here at the top of the building.

I closed my eyes briefly as I walked out, only opening them again when the wind subsided. Actually, I took a couple of steps forward until I could see my favorite view before opening my eyes.

The sky from this height was beautiful. It looked as if someone had poured watercolors across the heavens—a sunset blending with the night sky, still retaining a hint of daytime blue. I captured that sky with my camera.

Magic was fundamentally a technique of imagination. Naturally, a magician with more to imagine could use more magic than one lacking imagination. So this photograph would be useful too.

After capturing that scenery on film, I also photographed the party venue, which still looked somewhat lonely without guests.

Luxurious velvet carpets covered the floor, and the tablecloths weren’t plain white but a soft ivory color, creating a cozy feeling despite the cold weather.

After running my hand over one, I wandered around looking for more photo opportunities when I sensed a familiar presence behind me. I turned around with my camera still in hand to face it.

It was the relative who had invited me here. Unlike my modest journalist attire of a simple suit, he wore a proper tuxedo with his blonde hair slicked back to fully reveal his pointed ears.

His expression would have been perfect if it weren’t for the annoyed look of someone who’d caught an uninvited journalist sneaking into the party. Of course, it softened when he saw my face.

“I thought some reporter had snuck in… You still haven’t given up that hobby, Rose?”

What was his name again? Benjamin, was it? I’ve always been terrible at remembering people’s names. Sometimes I even forgot Paulina’s name and called her by ridiculous substitutes.

“Hobby? I’m a proper journalist now, even making money writing articles! And I’m the only journalist allowed into this party! Want me to take your picture?”

I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen him, but he seemed quite close to me. So it should be fine to take his photo, right?

Actually, elves were known for their good memory as well as their sensitive senses. I was considered odd for having particularly poor memory… but I’m not stupid, really!

My mind preferred embracing new things rather than holding onto old ones, and I was the same way. Besides, being called stupid was hurtful in its own way.

“If I can trust you not to use that photo in an article, then sure. I want a photo to remember this by, and a family photo—even from a distant relative—is better than one taken by strangers, right?”

Anyway! He puffed out his chest like a pigeon and struck a pose that would show him at his best. Family, he said… were we really that close?

Searching my memories, I recalled playing with him in the main family garden when I was young. He was five… no, six years older than me.

Ah, right! He was the relative who used to play with me when I was little and prone to falling down! I shouldn’t have assumed he was a stranger just because I hadn’t seen him in a while. I’m feeling quite regretful today…

Still, when the photographer wants to apologize, the best way is to take a good picture. I positioned myself properly and took a photo he would surely like.

“The photo will be perfect!”

I couldn’t easily continue speaking, and a few seconds of silence passed. Should I be honest? Yes, I should. What kind of journalist would I be if I couldn’t be honest?

“And… honestly, until this morning, I wasn’t sure who had invited me to the party. I just remembered now.”

I worried he might be upset that I couldn’t even remember his invitation, but he burst into hearty laughter as if he’d expected this.

“I figured as much. I was hoping you’d remember before the party ended, but you realized even before it started! Do you remember my name?”

Phew, there really aren’t any bad people in our family! Despite being a large family with many extended relatives, we were all quite close.

Even my father, unlike most fathers, didn’t lay down my path like train tracks but let me do what I wanted to do!

“Benny, Ben… Benjamin?”

It was closer to guessing any name that came to mind, and clearly I was wrong again. He laughed as if he hadn’t expected even this much.

“I thought so. I’m getting tired of telling you my name every time we meet, but try to remember it until next time. I must have told you… at least thirty times by now.”

Was it that many? My mind really does dislike old things. Still, now that I definitely felt the family connection, I naturally complained.

“That’s too harsh! Isn’t taking your picture worth something?”

“You’re not living up to the value of being invited, so what can I say?”

I might not remember much else, but this way of leaving me speechless seemed familiar. Probably. Maybe…

He left to check on the preparations, and Paulina approached in her neat gray suit, having set aside her shield.

When a lawyer carries a shield, it means there’s something that needs protection, something unsafe. Setting down one’s shield at a party like this was their form of courtesy.

“You didn’t remember his name or face this time either? This is at least the third time I’ve seen this happen.”

“Wait, how long have you been working for me…?”

“Three years now.”

Was my memory really this bad?! Was I the only one who didn’t know? I sat down with my hands on my cheeks, trying desperately to remember, but the name wouldn’t come.

“You mean I’ve forgotten once every year?! Can a person really do that?”

“Well, I’m looking at such a person right now.”

Come to think of it, this… let’s call him Benjamin for now. Benny wasn’t the only one who could leave me speechless. Paulina was quite good at it too.

I tried harder to remember his name, but gave up as people started gathering. Benjamin—though that’s probably not right—had hired a jazz band that was now arriving for rehearsal, and I captured them with my camera.

I briefly greeted my mother, whom I hadn’t seen in quite some time since leaving home, but I didn’t stay by her side. I felt much more comfortable next to Paulina. I wondered if my father wasn’t coming.

As people began to gather, the angels guarding the building entrance took flight simultaneously. Angels often moved as one body in a way that inspired awe.

And it wasn’t just ordinary police angels gathering. Despite the sunset’s red glow having faded, the sky—a beautiful mix of green, blue, dark purple, and black—began to brighten.

From above, a massive cluster of light descended toward the platform prepared for the party. It gently settled about a foot above the floor, then dispersed the light surrounding it.

This was no ordinary angel doing police work, but an Archangel—the kind one might see only once or twice in a lifetime. Archangels took the form of enormous eyes.

The giant eyeball was surrounded by several rotating rings densely packed with eyes and wings.

Eyes symbolized seeing, and seeing meant knowing, representing the God-President’s omniscience—thus sacred. Wings symbolized action, specifically the action of flight that no human could perform, representing the God-President’s omnipotence—thus sacred. Everything about it was sacred.

A beautiful voice emanated from around this angel of eyes and wings. It was a pleasant voice that seemed to be a gentle blend of the most beautiful female and male voices.

“Blessings be upon you, blessings be upon you. The God-President has sent me as His representative, so blessings be upon all gathered here.”

This was no empty talk. Because of the agreement that God would not interfere with humans and humans would not blindly follow God, the God-President never directly blessed humans, but angels could.

I felt an inexplicable, certainly not magical, warm sensation enveloping my body. After hearing such a speech, one could typically avoid minor illnesses for almost an entire year.

“Truly, the Invisible Hand blesses the elves who form a strong pillar of this nation He has personally chosen. He blesses those who do not follow the evil practices of their kin.”

Evil practices of their kin… the Followers of the Forest’s Firstborn, also called the FFF. Those elves, mostly from the South, held beliefs that didn’t fit with the country I knew.

Their belief that elves were superior to all other races led them to attack orcs and ogres in groups, hanging them from trees—a sight so horrific it made me regret having pointed ears like theirs.

Someday I wanted to photograph and show everyone their ugly deeds. That would be the most satisfying revenge a camera-wielder could take! I might easily forget relatives’ names, but I didn’t forget purposes like this.

Now the Archangel would begin its customary speech. Knowing this, the jazz band started performing, and the giant eye at the center of the Archangel’s body emitted a warm energy as if smiling.

“As the God-President has said, there is no greater virtue for an invited speaker than to finish quickly. I bless you who created jazz just as He created you.”

The rings surrounding the Archangel’s giant eye-shaped body rotated, casting light toward the sky. Only then did people rise and begin to gather in small groups.

Everyone seemed filled with happiness—whether they were engaged in refined conversations under the building’s awning with a phonograph playing, or drinking sweet carbonated water served instead of champagne.

This was the image of the current era as I remembered it. Happy people everywhere, and when you looked up following the music, you saw the colorful, beautiful sky.

The conversation topics were lively too. How much someone’s business was growing, how many more employees they needed to hire… everyone stacking up their successes as if competing.

Additionally, it was fortunate that there was no cigarette smoke since most of my family and relatives were elves. Cigarette smoke was like poison gas to elves. Instead, many enjoyed hookah pipes that emitted pleasant fragrances. After getting permission, I took a photo of people gathered with their hookah pipes.

Seeing me happily taking photos everywhere, Paulina approached with another glass of carbonated water. Though her long bangs covered her eyes, I was sure she was smiling behind them.

“Don’t you just want to photograph nice things like this? As a journalist, you can’t only capture the good, can you?”

As it happened, her question was one I really wanted to answer. I composed myself, took a breath, and smiled.

Since leaving home and becoming a journalist, not much time had passed, and Paulina had been quite busy, so we hadn’t had time for serious conversations like this.

“If I were just Rose Leafman who loves cameras, I’d only take photos like these. But I’m a journalist, right? I want to be eyes for people. No one can see and understand the world without eyes, can they? People in darkrooms can only huddle in place. Eyes that allow people to move. Isn’t that good?”

Though Paulina’s eyes were hidden behind her bangs, she raised her hand to shield her face as if from brightness, her lips curling upward.

“You were quite radiant while speaking. But now that you’ve poured it all out, it seems like something embarrassing to say, doesn’t it?”

…And I was trying so hard to hold back! Expressing ambition was both satisfying and embarrassing. Since it wasn’t alcohol anyway, I gulped down the carbonated water, then coughed as the tingling sensation rose in my throat.

Who would drink alcohol in this era anyway? Prohibition had been in effect for four years already, and though I wasn’t sure, the world seemed to be functioning well. With alcohol gone, drunkards disappeared too.

“Ugh, it is pretty embarrassing. But having clear ambition is enough, right?”

“If Miss Rose had hired me personally, I would have nodded in agreement, but I was hired by Miss Rose’s household. I’ll just say that continuing the family business is also a sufficiently grand ambition.”

Paulina’s distinction between professional and personal… wait. She wasn’t usually this clear about it… but when necessary, she became extremely definitive.

“I’ll become a journalist so good that even at home they won’t talk about the family business, so don’t worry. Got it?”

“I like that modest ambition better.”

A slight smile appeared on Paulina’s lips. Even with her clear distinction between professional and personal matters, she was firmly on my side.

Afterward, I continued taking photos of the party. An entire roll of film was filled with happy people and images of this sparkling era.

While developing photos in the darkroom was always thrilling, today would probably be even more exciting. Oh, this beautiful golden age of jazz!