-----------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon ❤️🔥
patreon.com/Samurai492
__________________________________
That night, Adrian Cole sat alone in front of his computer in the living room, the pale glow of the screen reflecting off his tired eyes.
In the world of online music critique, Adrian was no small name. His Official Blog account had crossed two million followers, while his BiliZone channel had long surpassed a million subscribers. Over the years, he had reviewed countless musical works—film scores, indie albums, experimental soundtracks, even corporate game music that most critics dismissed without listening twice.
And yet, somehow, his opinions always landed.
People trusted him because he never pretended to be a professor standing above the audience. He didn't drown listeners in theory or flex technical jargon. Adrian talked about feeling, about whether a piece of music stayed with you after the headphones came off.
That was why netizens had given him a nickname:
"The Online Music Connoisseur."
Adrian hadn't come from a formal music academy. He was self-taught, entering the field halfway through life. Still, his sharp ear and honest tone had earned him guest seats on several music variety shows. Unlike traditional critics, he never asked whether a song was "technically perfect."
He asked a simpler question.
"Would people remember this?"
Back in July, when Leo Hart suddenly released a single that exploded across the charts as the month's dark horse, Adrian had been one of the first major critics to respond.
His verdict had been short and deadly accurate:
"Catchy. Honest. Simple, but effective.
The melody isn't doing the heavy lifting—the vocals and lyrics are."
That review alone had pushed the song even further into the mainstream.
And because of that keyword surge, Adrian had stumbled onto a name that, until recently, he associated more with games than music—
Northstar Games.
To be fair, Adrian didn't hate their games.
Night of the Full Moon was solid.
Animal Party was chaotic fun—something he'd boot up with friends after a long day.
But Getting Over It?
That thing was psychological torture.
Who enjoys that?
People with masochistic tendencies?
So when Northstar Games started teasing original music releases, Adrian paid attention.
At exactly midnight, he sat upright, notebook open, pen in hand.
"Pure instrumental music… for a retro-myth cyberpunk game?" he muttered.
"That's hard to pull off."
He circled two words in red ink:
PURE INSTRUMENTAL
MYTHIC CYBERPUNK
From his experience, only a handful of veteran composers could handle that space properly. People who had lived long enough to understand restraint.
Adrian had planned only one thing tonight:
Listen first. Judge later.
He only wrote reviews under two conditions.
Either the work was brilliant—
or it was so bad it deserved to be dissected.
Mediocrity didn't deserve words.
At midnight sharp, he put on his studio headphones—the kind he reserved for serious listening—and typed:
Northstar Games.
Two albums appeared.
"Neon Blade: Echoes of Lumen – Original Soundtrack"
"Night of the Full Moon – Theme Track"
The second had only one song. He ignored it.
His cursor hovered, then clicked the first album.
Nine tracks.
The first one loaded.
"Reminiscence of Neon Immortals."
Adrian closed his eyes—
Then snapped them open instantly.
"Wait… what?"
A low, sorrowful synth-flute drifted through his ears, layered with delicate digital chimes. Beneath it, a faint analog string resonance trembled—like a bow pulled slowly across steel rather than wood.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Controlled.
"Using a synth-flute as the lead voice…" Adrian whispered.
"That's rare."
But rarity wasn't what shocked him.
It was the balance.
Every sound occupied its own space. Nothing clashed. Nothing fought for attention. The track breathed.
As the melody unfolded, he forgot he was listening to a game soundtrack.
He saw it instead.
A lone figure standing beneath neon rain.
A farewell under flickering holograms.
A love story doomed by time and circuitry.
Tragedy—without a single lyric.
Adrian leaned back, stunned.
He had only seen character designs from Neon Blade: Echoes of Lumen online, but the music alone told him everything he needed to know about the world.
By the time the track reached its climax, the analog string module rose to meet the flute, the two voices weaving together like memory and regret.
He swallowed.
Earlier, he had thought only veteran masters could pull this off.
Now?
This track stood shoulder-to-shoulder with them.
No.
In this genre…
It surpassed them.
Adrian replayed the song.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
By the time he moved on, his notebook was already half full.
The second track loaded.
"Blades Over Lumen City."
Comments were already flooding in.
"Came from the livestream—holy hell, Leo Hart is insane!"
"No words can beat the silence before a warrior draws their blade."
Hundreds of comments.
In minutes.
That alone told him something important.
This wasn't niche.
This was spreading.
The track began.
This time, the synth-flute cut sharper—paired with deep percussion pulses and a digital zither-like rhythm that echoed across the soundscape.
Grand.
Heroic.
Melancholic.
This was the sound of a city at war with itself.
Adrian didn't even realize he was writing until his pen scratched furiously across the page.
"Magnificent, but restrained.
Beauty wrapped in sorrow.
Goosebumps."
When the track ended, Adrian removed his headphones slowly and stared at the screen.
"Is this really music made by a game planner?"
He finished the album before dawn.
The remaining seven tracks were good—very good—but the first two cast such long shadows that they felt gentler by comparison.
Still, Adrian knew something.
Tonight, sleep was impossible.
By morning, cigarette ash overflowed the tray. Empty energy drink bottles lined the desk.
At eight a.m., with bloodshot eyes, Adrian hit "upload" on his review video.
His voice was hoarse but steady.
"Hello everyone.
This is Adrian Cole.
Today, I'm reviewing a game soundtrack that shouldn't exist—
because no newcomer should be this good."
He paused.
"Is Ethan Reed… actually a genius?"
He couldn't answer it.
But deep down, he already knew.
In the realm of mythic cyberpunk music, Ethan Reed had stepped onto the same stage as the legends—
and then quietly moved one step ahead.
-----------------------------------------
Extra chapters available on patreon ❤️🔥
patreon.com/Samurai492
__________________________________