The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 28 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 28 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

One week later.

I've been groaning outside my mattress for a week now.

The drinking party Monica arranged was more incredible than expected.

Not in terms of the food.

The people who were there were the problem.

I never thought I would have a drink with the president of MG Electronics in my life.

And then the high-ranking executives like directors and the head of the business department I met last time appeared one after another, praising my paintings.

It was nice to be praised, but with such high-ranking people around, I couldn't tell if the meat was going down my throat or my nose.

The problem came after that. The drinking culture of this cursed conglomerate.

Female employees like Monica and Sooyoung were excused, but not men like me.

It was a drinking party of 'pour and drink'.

I lost my senses almost before an hour had passed since the start of the party.

Every time we toasted and emptied our glasses, they were immediately refilled.

I used to be known as a drinker since my college days with Yeongju, but I couldn't hold a candle to them there.

Eventually, I blacked out, and when I woke up, I was on my mattress in my room.

I had no memory of who brought me home or how I got there.

The effects of the alcohol lasted a whopping six days.

I didn't want to eat anything and starved for two days, but I kept vomiting and having diarrhea.

On the third day, feeling like I might die, I cooked a pack of ramen, but then I was laid up for another two days after eating it.

Usually, I would cure hangovers with ramen, but that time it felt like taking poison.

After a week since the farewell party, I finally regained some strength and was about to cook some porridge, but then I remembered I had enough money in my account and went to a local porridge shop to buy abalone porridge to take home.

"Phew. Employees go to work the next day after such drinking? Ugh, just thinking about it makes me want to throw up. How do they live like that?"

I express my respect to all employees in South Korea.

After drinking the pickled radish soup that came with the porridge, I felt refreshed.

"Wow, I almost died."

I decided never to attend MG Electronics' company dinners again.

Of course, three days later, I heard from Su-yeong that the management had drunk excessively due to the success of a new product launch. Some of the executives even took the next day off, which is not typical for them.

Then, I hear a faint vibration sound.

After sleeping for days, even spam text notifications annoyed me, so I had shoved my phone under the mattress. The sound was my phone ringing. It rang several times, indicating a call. I put the spoonful of porridge in my mouth and reached into the mattress gap to get my phone.

It's an unknown number, but it's a mobile number.

These days, I get spam calls on my mobile, but it feels uncomfortable not to answer.

"Hello?"

-Hello, is this Ban Jeong-hoon's phone?

"Yes, speaking. Who is this?"

-The call is from the Hotel W Tree Ambassador...

Click.

I hung up and threw the phone on the mattress. Damn, another spam call.

It's probably about investing thousands in the new resort in Sokcho, Gangwon-do, promising to multiply my capital several times in rent. I've heard it so often I know it by heart.

I ignored several more calls from the same number.

"If they hang up, they usually don't call back, but this one is persistent."

I kept glancing at the ringing phone and focused on eating my porridge. For now, I just need to survive.

It's been days since I've had a proper meal. Oh, I threw up the expensive beef I ate, what a waste of protein.

After a few more rings, the phone goes quiet, then alerts me of a text message. I just finished the porridge and sighed, fumbling for the phone.

"Alright, let's see what it says."

[Hello, Mr. Ban Jeong-hoon, artist. This is the secretary's office of Hotel W Tree Ambassador. Contacting you on CEO Yumin Young's instructions, who was introduced by Ms. Monica. The call quality seemed poor. Please call back when you see this message.]

I almost threw the phone in shock. Such a foolish mistake! There are other things to forget.

I pushed away the porridge and called back immediately.

"Ah, hello?"

-Yes, is this artist Ban Jeong-hoon?

"Yes, that's me. I was in an elevator earlier."

I made up a lame excuse, but luckily the other person didn't seem to care much.

-Oh, I see. Our CEO would like to meet you to set up an appointment if possible.

"Of course."

-When would be a good time for you?

"Anytime is fine."

-Do you have a preferred time or day?

"Uh, preferably in the afternoon, any day is fine."

-Okay, one moment please.

I hear keyboard typing, probably checking the CEO's schedule. After a moment, the secretary speaks.

-Where are you located?

"Jongno."

-Could you come to Hannam-dong?

Of course, I have to go. He's my client.

"Of course, I can come."

-Then, how about tomorrow at 3 PM? Please come to the hotel lobby and state your name.

"Yes, I'll do that. Thank you."

After hanging up, I hit the back of my head several times. No matter how drunk I get, I should handle my business properly, you idiot.

It's 1 PM now.

The appointment is tomorrow, so I need to clean my house today. It smells like soju, probably because I've been detoxing alcohol through breathing for a week.

The window, which only opens halfway and directly faces the shoes of pedestrians walking outside, is still opened for ventilation. After putting the mattress cover and clothes I wore that day in the washing machine and doing a quick clean-up, I remember that the only time I've been out this week was to buy porridge today, so I take a short walk around the neighborhood.

Dressed in training clothes and slippers, carrying only my wallet and phone, I walk around to recover. Then I realize I'm not far from the art gallery.

"Ah, what happened to the gallery?"

Please, just do some internal repairs and reopen it. It cant go under. I still have so many dreams to chase.

I walked a bit faster towards the art gallery.

As I turned down an alley, I couldn't help but smile.

It wasnt dark yet, but the lights of the art gallery sign were on since it was the afternoon. Last time I was here, the sign was off.

Theyve reopened!

Seems like I came in slippers for no reason. I want to run, but its uncomfortable with the slippers clattering.

Running as fast as I could in my slippers, I arrived in front of the art gallery and looked at the sign with a joyful heart.

And then I froze.

What the...?

The peculiar art gallery that always stood there, which had taken me to the 1900s with Alphonse Mucha, now had a strange phrase on its sign.

Today's Exhibition: Gustav Klimt Gold in Motion

Damn it! Damn!

This cursed art gallery. Why couldnt they just do some internal repairs and not change the exhibition?

Will I never be able to meet the teacher again?

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