Chapter 92

It was different from a moment ago.

I couldn't understand a word earlier.

Now, it just came through.

I didn't force myself to understand it.

It hit me like a direct flight with no layovers, the words of the other person piercing my mind.

I shook my head at her and said,

“Non, mais je peux parler français. (No, but I can speak French.)”

Fluent and soft French rolled off my tongue effortlessly.

‘Crazy, who put a Montesquieu in my mouth!’

It was so amazing that my voice didn't even sound like my own.

“Oh, tu es si bon? Alors pourriez-vous nous aider? (Oh, you're so good? Then could you help us?)”

Yeah, yeah, our boss looked really flustered, and I wanted to help too.

I looked at the boss and said,

“Can I help the customers a bit?”

“Is that French?”

“Yes.”

“Could you... help us if you know it?”

“Sure, just let me know if you need anything. I can also relay the customers' questions.”

“Great, great!”

I smiled at the boss.

Then I asked the foreign customers again,

“Eh bien, que puis-je faire pour vous?”

So, what can I do for you?

*

After a few minutes,

Sales totaling 500,000 won were made.

The boss was beaming.

“Goodbye! Have a safe trip home!”

The French tourists, holding bags and boxes in both hands, waved goodbye to the boss as they left the store.

“Merci!”

They gave me a French farewell.

Peck, peck,

The old man, the uncle, the grandmother, and the lady all kissed my cheeks and made pecking sounds.

‘Ugh, embarrassing...’

When they asked why I spoke French so well and if I had lived in France, I said yes, and they greeted me in their way without hesitation.

“Grâce à votre aide, j'ai aimé faire du shopping. Merci beaucoup. Ceci est une astuce! (Thanks to your help, I enjoyed shopping. Thank you very much. This is a tip!)”

The last customer handed me a 50,000 won bill, and finally, the store regained its peace.

The boss, looking embarrassed, said,

“I wouldn't have known what to do if there were no customers... and even though I don't know much, the customers were recommending all sorts of things... I'm really grateful.”

The boss clumsily expressed his gratitude.

“No, I just translated for you.”

But inside, I was sobbing.

‘Huuu, Coco...’

There might be some treasure hidden here.

If there was a treasure among the items the customers took, I would have been really cheated.

But the possibility seemed low.

Coco didn't react much when we got to the door of the store.

Now, I was worried about Coco.

He hadn't come when I called, and he had never disappeared for so long before. Could something have happened?

“Ah, customer. I'll finish packaging this for you. And I'll give you the bowl as a freebie.”

“No, that's okay.”

“No, please take it. I'm really grateful.”

The boss handed me the bag with a wide smile.

And then he made an unexpected offer.

“Actually, I received a really valuable traditional tea as a gift a while ago. Would you like to try a cup?”

“Ah... no, that's okay, hahaha.”

I was grateful, but I had to find Coco.

“Don't worry, just take a moment. I don't usually show this to anyone, but there are some special things I want to show you.”

Special... things to show?

Then I should go.

“Sure, boss. Where should I go? I love traditional tea, by the way.”

“Haha, follow me.”

The boss left the store and locked the door.

“Is it okay not to do business?”

“Well, it's not just for money. This building is mine, though it's a bit shabby. The second floor is my home. Follow me.”

The boss climbed the stairs by a small entrance.

*

As soon as I opened the front door, I couldn't help but be amazed.

Two large blue-gray Buddha statues greeted us from either side.

“Wow... this is your home?”

“Hahaha, it's a bit cluttered, isn't it?”

“No, it looks like a museum.”

The living room was the same.

A shiny wooden grandfather clock, a plate as wide as a shield, and gleaming brass instruments...

‘Is this really a store?’

It was a home with a sense of history, in a good way.

“Sit here for a moment. I'll bring it right away.”

“Ah, sure.”

The sofa was clearly old leather, but that made it even more charming.

‘Right, the store employee said good leather gets more beautiful with aging.’

There was even an old rotary phone on the living room table.

Just by looking around the house,

I could sense how the boss lived his life.

‘Cool guy.’

After all, why would the first European porcelain appear here if this person didn't have some special talent?

Just then, the boss approached with a wooden tray.

“This is something a friend brought back from a trip to China...”

But, wait a minute.

“Boss.”

“Yes.”

“Could you be quiet for a moment?”

“What?”

Ah, that must have sounded rude.

I quickly clarified,

“I heard some mouse sounds.”

“Mouse? There's no way a mouse could be in my house?”

“That's why! It would be a disaster if there were, just be quiet for a moment.”

“Sure, sure.”

The boss immediately shut up and looked around with bright eyes.

I focused on the sound again.

──klrlrlrlrl...

──klrlrlrlrl!

I jumped up from the sofa.

Then I ran to the room where the sound was coming from and burst in.

A kid was sitting inside, wearing a headset and playing a shooting game.

“Yanggak, right? Yanggak, I think? Be careful.”

The kid muttered without noticing me.

I didn't care anyway.

I turned my gaze to the side.

‘Got you, you little rascal!’

A snow-white fox, like a cat that had swallowed a whole Chur, was rolling around on the floor.

It was crazy Coco.

──kororororororororor!

Did he fly from the store entrance to the second floor?

Really, what a surprise... I was so worried!

Just then, the boss, who had followed me, asked,

“Was there a mouse? I didn't hear anything.”

“No, there wasn't. I must have been mistaken.”

“Right? Even if this is a market area, there's no way there would be mice these days, hahaha.”

“Yeah, yeah. But boss.”

“Yes?”

“What is this painting? Is it famous?”

That large painting hanging on the wall.

The man with a mustache, wearing old clothes, exuding confidence with a charming smile.

──kororororororororor!

The one that Coco is shooting heart eyes at!

What is it?

It seemed that this wasn't just any ordinary piece, given how Coco was reacting.

I didn't know it back then, but this time, I'll pay a fair price for it!

“Haha, you must have a good eye to recognize it right away.”

The boss adjusted his glasses and continued,

“This is a masterpiece by Frans Hals, a leading figure in the 17th-century Dutch Golden Age of art and a master of portraiture...”

Oh!

“It's often cited as the most outstanding Baroque portrait, <The Laughing Cavalier>.”

The most outstanding Baroque portrait?

No wonder the mustache angle, the restrained yet cheerful smile, and the elaborate clothing were so captivating!

<The Laughing Cavalier>.

A great name.

Indeed, our Coco!

You were already working here!

──kororororororororor!

The smell of money was already wafting through the air.

But the boss's next words were

completely unexpected.

“It's a forgery, though.”

“Pardon?”

A forgery?

Really?

“Really?”

“Well, I bought it knowing it was a forgery. I wouldn't hang an original in a child's room, would I, hahaha.”

But... there's no way Coco could be wrong.

Coco is always right.

Frans Hals's <The Laughing Cavalier>.

It was a portrait of a young man with blond hair.

A magnificent hat.

A mustache shaped like a W.

A smile that exuded subtle confidence.

Elaborate clothing that reflected the era.

The canvas was about 70x80 cm.

A medium-sized work, commonly seen in art galleries.

However,

The aura emanating from the painting transcended its size.

It felt like a real person existed in the world.

I could imagine his personality and what he might have done.

It seemed like he could jump out of the painting and start talking to me at any moment.

‘It feels like a living person...’

A characteristic of great portraits.

I had to ask again.

“So amazing... really a forgery?”

“Yes, it is. It's beautiful, but it's a forgery.”

“...I see.”

“Well, it is. Do you remember, what is the most famous female portrait in 17th-century art history?”

“Mona Lisa.”

“Correct. Then, conversely, what is the most famous male portrait of that era?”

“Eh, you don't mean...?”

“Hahaha, there might be some debate, but this work is always mentioned. Even the great Van Gogh was influenced by this artist, so it must be good. Naturally.”

This work is that good?

Why am I hearing about it for the first time?

Is this why design majors are treated like merchants in art school?

But it still seemed contradictory.

Coco going crazy over a forgery.

There were still two possibilities.

First, the boss might be mistaken.

It could be an original, even though he thought it was a forgery?

“Where did you get this painting?”

“Well, in Shanghai, there's a gallery that mainly deals in forgeries. I went to take a look, and the painting was so good. Even knowing it was a forgery, I bought it right away.”

“So it's really a forgery...?”

“Haha, the original is already in the UK. A nobleman donated his entire collection and mansion to a museum. It's safely stored there.”

“I see...”

Then the second possibility.

A forgery that still has value.

I remember hearing this in class before.

Even great masters of their time practiced by making copies and sometimes created forgeries to make money.

‘I think Michelangelo was noticed for selling forgeries.’

So, occasionally, forgeries are valued higher than the originals.

“Do you know who painted it?”

“Haha, customer, what kind of forgeries would have that information? Of course, they would say it was painted by Frans Hals.”

The possibility of it being an original seemed low.

The possibility of it being a great master's work also seemed low.

But I have an absolute rule that I can't deny.

No matter what,

Coco is always right.

──kororororororororor!

The kid who is always so composed, now with his tongue hanging out and drooling.

──kororororororororor!

How could I deny it with my shallow knowledge?

I told the boss,

“I'll buy this.”

“Really? This one? It's a forgery, you know?”

“Yes, I know it's a forgery, but I really like it.”

“Ah... well.”

But the boss hesitated.

He had just said it wasn't much, so why the sudden change?

“I'll pay a fair price.”

“Hmm...”

“Really. How much would you want? Just let me know.”

“No, it's not that...”

“What, is there something bothering you?”

The boss turned his gaze slowly and

there was the kid with the headset.

“Jjeoljjeoljjeol, definitely not. It's so bad. I dodged again.”

The kid, who looked about 10 years old, was completely absorbed in the game, oblivious to the adults' conversation.

But what was the problem with him?

“This... is my son's favorite painting. It's hard to sell.”

The boss chuckled, as if there was no other choice.

The kid was just reaching the climax of his game.

A female character was crawling on the floor in the monitor.

“Ugh! I got hit! What a noob, that guy! Hey, help me quickly! No, not that side, this side!”

I couldn't help but laugh watching him.

‘Hahaha, you're a beginner.’

If you say it's not that side but this side, how will your friend understand? You need to speak clearly.

Sure enough, the kid's character collapsed, and a death message appeared on the screen.

[ It happens. There are days like this. ]

The kid bowed his head deeply.

“Ah... that's a shame. I have to go to the academy now. Good luck.”

He took off his headset and looked at us.

“Dad.”

“What?”

The boss answered with a kind face, but the kid was already speaking with a pout.

“I told you not to come in when I'm playing. It messes up my aim. I just wanted to play one more round before going to the academy...”

He was a rather cute kid, despite his grumbling.

“I didn't come in on purpose...”

The boss, looking awkward.

The culprit, I stepped in.

“Son, I came in without thinking. I'm sorry. If your aim is off, your shots will miss, right?”

“...It's fine.”

The kid put down his headset and started packing his bag.

“I heard everything. This guy wants to buy that painting.”

Damn, you shouldn't have heard that.

That's why I hate perceptive kids!

“Your son has good hearing... I guess that's why he's good at French, hahaha...”

I laughed awkwardly.

But then,

“Dad, sell it.”

“Huh?”

“I don't like it anymore.”

The kid said something unexpected.

And the boss was more surprised than I was.

“Why? You loved it so much.”

“I don't like it anymore.”