But now, what he was witnessing was so unimaginable.
The boy, who had seemed somewhat clumsy in technique and skill just moments before, was now, using his unremarkable and even crude methods, achieving such intense transformations and modulations.
It wasn't just the bow, now a flickering phantom, nor the thunderous plucking of his left hand. It wasn't just the frenzied cycling between high and low octaves or the rapid, double-stop descending scales... It was something even more incredible.
Caught up?
Schlot felt like he was suffocating. The boy had actually caught up to Paganini's tempo!
He stared blankly at the boy's pale face, the fanatical gleam in his eyes, and the bloodshot veins.
The fanatical sound erupted, soaring higher!
In that instant, from outside the restroom door, a voice echoed—one that had no business being there.
"This is the women's restroom, you know."
