The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 123 (1) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 123 (1) - The Mysterious Art Museum

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Located in the Milan city center is the Hotel Gran Duca Di York.

Rather than typical Italian architecture, this splendid traditional hotel resembles more Moroccan style and looks extravagantly expensive. A quick glance at a hotel reservation app shows that an average double room costs over 560,000 KRW per night, marking it as a luxury hotel.

Monica helped me check in and then handed me the card key, saying,

"Did you see the driver earlier?"

"The chauffeur?"

"Yes, his name is Marco Leonardi. Here’s his phone number."

Monica handed me a business card.

The card had only the name and phone number, with a large gold emblem of Rossellini engraved on the back.

"You’ve already started distributing employee cards."

Monica chuckled and rummaged through her handbag before pulling out another card.

"I have one too."

Monica extended her card and said,

"Marco will be your personal chauffeur while you’re here. Call him and he’ll be here in 10 minutes, anytime."

"He speaks English, right?"

"Of course."

Monica held up the key and said,

"Your room is 601, don’t get it mixed up."

"Thank you, Monica."

"Call me if you need anything. I’ll be quite busy with the logistics center in Hong Kong, employee hiring, and store permits while you’re in Milan."

"Sure, Monica."

"Here’s the corporate card. Use it for anything you need here, including food. Goodnight, Ban."

"Goodnight to you too, Monica."

After Monica left, I took the elevator to room 601.

Upon opening the door with the key card and turning on the lights, I was surprised by the room’s opulence.

"Do we really need all this luxury?"

The room was decorated in four colors: gold, red, green, and black. Furniture in black, gold wallpaper, red fabrics, and green from the plants.

Unlike the slightly chilly countryside restroom, this place was warm with a neat shower booth and well-stocked amenities, ensuring utmost convenience for users.

I dropped my bags and opened the curtain covering the hotel window.

The beautiful cityscape of Milan outside the hotel. But it felt farthest from nature.

Standing briefly on the balcony, watching people walk down the alleys, I sighed and turned around.

"Maybe I’m just a country person at heart."

Surrounded by luxurious carpets, crisp clean bedding, plush beds, and elegant furniture and interiors, I couldn’t feel any warmth in this place.

"Sigh."

Maybe a bit of fresh air would help?

Thinking it might improve my mood, I changed into comfortable clothes and left the hotel with just my wallet and phone.

The hotel’s central location meant convenience facilities were right outside. According to Monica, Milan’s famous Duomo Cathedral was just a 10-minute walk away, suggesting well-developed infrastructure for tourists.

"I should visit the cathedral."

It wouldn’t make sense not to see it while I’m here. I’ll find time to visit during the day. It’s too late now; I’d only see the exterior.

Walking down the bustling street despite the late hour, I stopped at a sign for Coop.

"A convenience store?"

Seeing 'supermarket' written in English, I decided to buy a few things for the hotel and entered the store.

The loneliness of a dry city life, alone in a hotel.

Just moments ago, I missed the countryside village, but now, just a few steps inside the supermarket, turning left. I had completely blown away that nostalgia.

"Wow! Korean ramen!"

Cup noodles. And spicy ones at that.

"Even a glance at the cover makes my mouth water. Who would have thought, Korean ramen in Italy.

While ramen is a bit more expensive here than in Korea, Italian products including fruits are very cheap. Seeing such low prices, I went on a shopping spree.

Whistling with a basket in hand, I soon forgot that I was longing for the countryside just a moment ago. Since I got a corporate card from Monica, I decided to indulge myself today.

Back at the hotel, I started with the cup ramen as soon as I boiled the water.

With the first bite, I was moved by the taste of MSG I hadn't had in a while. I closed my eyes, savoring the flavor, and muttered to myself.

"This is definitely the taste of capitalism."

I guess I'm a city guy after all.

**

A week later, at the Milan City Hall.

Monica, carrying a thick briefcase, gets into the waiting car and sighs.

"Paperwork always gives me a headache."

The woman seated in the passenger seat with Monica turns around.

"That's all for the corporate permit paperwork, ma'am. You did a great job."

"Thanks, Cicci. You too."

The woman Monica calls Cicci.

Her real name is Cicciolina, and she was previously a secretary at Alessandro Cucinelli, where Monica used to work. A highly competent woman, she had been Monica's personal assistant and was scouted to the new company when Monica established it.

Cicci turned to the driver and said,

"Let's go, to the Milan store."

As the car started, Monica, looking tired, gazed out of the window and asked,

"How's the store coming along?"

"We've completed the furniture orders. There are ten staff members in total, including two managers and eight full-time employees. Furniture production will take about three weeks, and delivery and installation another week. The staff are hired and on standby, ready to start any time."

"What about the artist?"

Cicci, checking her phone for the schedule, turned with a slightly strange expression. Monica, noticing Cicci's face, asked,

"What's wrong, is there a problem?"

"It's hard to say it's a problem."

"What is it then?"

Cicci thought for a moment before speaking.

"You might want to see it for yourself."

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