A Different Color of [Death]

As they decided on their respective instruments, Yuzuha, who loved joining in on the fun, naturally joined them.

Yuzuha picked up the suona again. Just as she was about to gather her emotions and play, she stopped and looked at them. "By the way, is your main performance style rock or DJ?"

"Miss Yuzuha, that should be called pop music."

Aria set down her erhu and said thoughtfully, "Of course, we've also tried other major styles over the past year."

"I see!"

Yuzuha glanced at Sunna again... Hmm, Sunna's gyaru style gave her a wild idea.

"Want to try the special music style from Wei Feidi? Most of the fans are underground, so it really suits your style."

"Underground? Like underground performances at 404 Concert Hall?" Sunna met Yuzuha's gaze and asked curiously.

Yuzuha blinked and pointed at the concrete floor beneath them. "Just as the name implies, the fans are all underground. Around here, it's called the Funeral Love Band, specializing in non-mainstream tragic romance!"

"Enough! Yuzuha, you're fooling people again."

Suddenly, a tall and fierce-looking figure walked into the room.

"Mato? What are you doing here?"

Yuzuha raised an eyebrow at the approaching Mato. Though she was clearly displeased, she still introduced him to the Angels of Delusion members.

"He's Mato Komano. Like me, he's a high school student. He looks fierce, but he's actually gentle and generous."

"Hello, I'm Mato Komano. Just call me Mato."

Mato Komano stepped forward and glanced over the paper flowers scattered across the floor.

Then he bent down, picked up the sign that had fallen earlier, and held it up for them to see as he said helplessly,

"I came to stop you from fooling people."

Three large words were written on the sign: Funeral Band—the "Love" Yuzuha had mentioned had somehow vanished.

After hearing Mato Komano's explanation, the Angels of Delusion members were speechless. Griseo was the exception, of course. This novel experience really brought with it a very special color.

It turned out this had been one of Yuzuha's old strange ideas. She had formed a band with Mato Komano and several other companions.

They mainly took on commercial gigs, not limited to funerals, birthday banquets, full-month celebrations...

"Mato, I don't like what you're saying." Yuzuha walked over and looked at Sunna. "Sunna, isn't all music connected?"

"Uh..." As the arranger, Sunna really wanted to argue, but Yuzuha's words—crude as they were—made sense.

"I know they're connected, but our music used to connect to the underworld..."

Mato Komano rubbed his forehead and said helplessly, "Can't we learn from them? Their music leads to live houses and music festivals."

"How can you say that? Mato, let me ask you this: can't these instruments be played?"

Yuzuha pointed indignantly at the instruments in their hands.

"Look, I'm holding a wind instrument, the suona. Sunna has a percussion instrument, the cymbals. Nangong has a string instrument, the erhu!"

Hearing Yuzuha's defense, Mato Komano recalled certain embarrassing moments from the past and could no longer hold back. He continued tearing her down.

"What did our fans used to say? They mostly listened lying down! And what did you say? That there wasn't any real feedback at all."

"Who says? Sometimes they visit us in dreams, okay?" Yuzuha teased Cauldron with her hand. The raccoon cat on her shoulder nodded cooperatively, as if testifying for her.

Mato Komano: "..."

"Sister Nangong, try this."

"Mmm, it's so good!!"

It turned out that while the two were bickering, Nangong had taken Griseo back to the snack area and started stuffing themselves.

Sunna: "Aria, is this a performance too?"

Aria: "My logic core indicates that this seems to be called a comic dialogue act or a duet comedy performance."

Suddenly, the wooden doors of the hall were pushed open again.

A man walked in—wearing glasses, a bright floral suit, and carrying a small bag. His leather shoes clicked across the concrete floor.

"Excuse me... is this the 'Funeral [] Band'?"

The man entered the room and removed his glasses. He first looked over the hall decorated with white cloth and paper flowers, and only after confirming he had come to the right place did he let out a small sigh of relief.

Then he introduced himself. "Hello, my name is Songxi."

"Songxi... 'Sent all the way west'?" Yuzuha looked the man over in surprise—not only was his outfit striking, but even his name was so distinctive.

"It's 'Songxi'..." Songxi cleared his throat. "Miss Yuzuha, are you and your band still taking gigs?" He loosened the collar of his floral suit, trying to ease the awkwardness.

"We call them tours! Not gigs. That has no soul at all."

Yuzuha corrected him with a straight face, her tone suddenly turning solemn. "It is to give every deceased person a dignified farewell!"

"That's right, Miss Yuzuha. I'd like to invite you on a tour. It's a celebratory mourning—my old man was ninety-two, free of illness and disaster, with children and grandchildren all around him."

"Oh, is that so? You should have said so earlier!"

The moment she heard the words "celebratory mourning," Yuzuha's expression changed. She had thought he was here to challenge them.

"Don't worry, we'll take it. We definitely will! Don't let our young members fool you—we'll make sure the old man's farewell is both lively and dignified."

Yuzuha enthusiastically began introducing her "members."

Behind her, Mato rubbed his forehead in utter helplessness. Nangong, Sunna, and the others found it hard to interrupt and could only stand quietly to the side and watch.

After all, a celebratory mourning was different from an ordinary funeral. For an elderly person blessed with both fortune and longevity to pass away naturally, without illness, was especially rare!

This was the post-apocalypse, after all—a world where only eleven years had passed since the fall of the Old Capital.

Refusing would only spoil the mood!!

Seeing Yuzuha accept the job so readily, Songxi watched as she gave him Angels of Delusion's account.

They had over ten thousand followers, and even had "Angel" in their name. His mood immediately brightened, and he promptly pulled out his phone and transferred the payment on the spot.

"I've transferred the performance fee and the address. I'll leave my old man's celebratory mourning to you, Miss Yuzuha."

Songxi warmly shook Yuzuha's hand, then turned toward Nangong and the others and tossed them a flirtatious wink.

"See you later, honeys."

With that, Songxi carried his small bag away, his leather shoes clicking into the distance once more.

After Songxi left, Mato crossed his arms and looked at Yuzuha speechlessly. "How are just the two of us supposed to take this job?"

"Hehe, aren't there four more people here?"

Yuzuha raised both hands beside her head in a beckoning-cat pose, trying to act cute and muddle through. Mato, however, rolled his eyes without mercy.

"Mato, if you're this unromantic, no girls will like you in the future."

After cheerfully teasing her partner, Yuzuha turned toward Nangong, who was in the corner with her head down, devouring desserts.

After all, she was the captain. Yuzuha dashed over, grabbed Nangong's hand, and looked at her with utter sincerity. "Little sister Nangong, onegai! Please!"

For a moment, Nangong looked toward Sunna and Aria. The three exchanged glances, unsure how to respond.

Instead, Griseo spoke up and pleaded, "Sister Nangong, Sister Sunna, Sister Aria, I want to go and see."

As for why Griseo was so curious, it was naturally because she had seen a different color.

It was completely opposite to the death she understood...

Clearly, the color associated with death should have been "sadness," but what she saw was different. Songxi carried "relief" and "Blessing."