Van Gogh Reborn! - Chapter 103

“Vincent van Gogh from the Old Pilgrimage London branch. Boss left his watch behind, so I came to return it.”

The security guard looked me up and down and then nodded and pointed toward the entrance.

“Go in straight and the Boss will be in the last room.’

“Thank you.”

I felt suffocated when I stepped inside.

The wool was flying here and there.

Since there was no ventilation, it got tangled with all kinds of dust.

“Why is it so dark?”

In a room with dull light, people with tired faces could be seen.

Among them, some were children around the age of ten.

‘What the hell is this?’

Men, women, and children had dark circles around their eyes.

They repeat the same thing with empty eyes.

“Oh, Vincent, what’s going on?”

It was the voice of Roger Scott.

When I turned my head, he came up to me with his chin slightly raised.

I took out the watch in my pocket.

“I brought something that you forgot.”

He smiled and took his watch from my hands.

“I was wondering where it went, it seems like I left it in your place. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Let’s have a cup of tea while we’re at it. Are you busy?”

“Then, I will gladly accept your offer.”

“Jin! Bring me two cups of tea!”

“Yes, sir.”

I followed Roger Scott and went into the factory.

Among the people who sat in a crowded place, there was a pregnant woman who was in her late 30s.

I was worried about whether it was alright for her to stay in a place like this.

When I sat down, a worker brought me black tea.

After a walk for 30 minutes in the cold weather, I felt relieved after seeing the hot tea.

Roger Scott spoke as he took the tea in his hand.

“I like you very much, Vincent. It’s very rare to see honest guys like you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“No, I really mean it. No one will return this 20-pound watch.”

I didn’t know it was that expensive.

“Compared to you, those buggers out there are thieves. They just think of how to do less work and take my property.”

“……”

I didn’t know whether it was the right thing to say about the people who are working with a dying faces in that poor environment.

I nodded my head moderately, while Roger Scott continued his words.

“Yesterday I found a guy who was working while hiding the fact that one of his fingers got cut off.”

“Finger?”

“Can you believe it? I paid the wage of a normal worker to a fingerless as*hole.”

“I’m going to get my wages worth work from that guy who siphoned off my money.”

Even after drinking the hot tea, my body didn’t heat up, instead, it felt colder than when I was outside.

⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩

In the 19th century, England was hell.

Britain, which secured a market by inventing spinning machines and increasing colonies, sold cloth all over the world.

Wool was needed to weave cloth, and naturally, wool prices soared.

Landlords removed arable land and raised sheep on it to increase profits.

The peasants who lost their means of livelihood overnight starved to death or became robbers.

The British government and the church tried to take care of them, but that led to a bigger tragedy.

They gathered tramps and forced them to work in a wool factory, and cut off their ears when they tried to run away because of the harsh treatment.

They couldn’t resist the factory managers because of the backing of the state and religion.

Adult men spend 18 hours a day.

Women were abused for 15 hours and children for 12 hours.

Pregnant women were also no exception.

The farmers quickly became slaves to the state and capitalists, who only thought of filling their pockets.

Numerous lives got lost under the name of development.

I couldn’t bear to continue working in such a place when I realized that the people who bought the paintings from me were pigs who eat the life of people.

“But not everyone can find another job.”

I seemed to have been immersed in my thoughts.

I came to my senses at grandpa’s words.

“What will happen to people like that, grandpa?”

“Well, that’s why they’re talking about this and that, not arriving at a conclusion. Laws and institutions cannot keep up with the pace at which society changes.”

What choice will I make when I face a similar situation as this?

What can I do?

I don’t know yet.

⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩

The next day.

Led by Robert Meyer, we arrived at Schmincke’s office building.

There was a sculpture at the entrance that looked like a color tag.

The surface of the symbol that resembles “X” is painted in the shape of a concentric circle and is painted in the order of red, yellow, green, and blue from the inside to the outside.

“Why is there always a sculpture in front of a building?”

Something was always installed in front of the large building in this way.

“It’s set by law,”

Uncle Bang stepped up and explained.

“If we want to build a building larger than the size set by the country, we have to spend a certain percentage of the construction cost on installing art. Robert, what’s the percentage in Germany? Public art.”

“I think it’s one percent.”

It means that one percent of the building’s price should be spent on displaying art.

“Why did they make such a law?”

“It’s a law for artists. If it’s set by law, things happen, right? The view of the city is also getting better.”

It’s a little strange to say that it’s forced, not voluntary.

In addition, the word ‘law for artists’ felt like a bad word.

“Famous people make a lot of money, don’t they? If the client is going to request it, he will ask a famous person.”

“That’s right.”

Uncle Bang nodded.

“So we changed the law in our country. Instead of installing art, they should give the 1% to the Artists association.”

“Can you really believe in the association?”

Uncle Bang said while sighing deeply.

“You’re right, we can’t. In fact, there are still a lot of voices saying the law should be abolished, but the government is careful because the decision might have a huge impact on the Art World.”

Grandpa added words to Uncle Bang’s question.

The world is too complicated and difficult to understand, with things like automation, and law for artists, along with what I’m learning in elementary school.

I wonder how people of this era are living in this complicated world.

Thinking that I followed Robert Meyer and soon many people welcomed us warmly.

Robert Meyer said that they were the staff in charge of Schmincke’s public relations.

We briefly greeted each other and they explained about the shooting in the afternoon.

“Do you mean I can draw what I want for two hours?”

“Yes, anything’s fine. Don’t worry about the camera, just draw with the tools we prepared.”

I was playing with my tablet or using a coloring notebook to soothe my disappointment.

But hearing the news from Robert Meyer, I felt glad.

“And sometimes you have to look at the chatroom and communicate with the fans.”

I guess it’s like ‘Let’s talk.’

At that time, it was regrettable that I was talking only to the host.

At the fan signing event, I was busy drawing pictures, so I couldn’t talk leisurely.

“You don’t have to keep talking. You don’t have to feel pressured.”

“I don’t feel pressured.”

I like to talk, so I used to stay up all night with Theo and discuss art.

What should I talk about?

It’s better to choose a good Bible verse in advance.

Some of the sermons I gave to the workers were good.

Or maybe it would be good to tell them about the amazing insects in France and the Netherlands.

I asked for grandpa’s opinion.

“Grandpa.”

“Yes, Little Hun?”

“Is it better to recite a Bible verse, or should I talk about insects?”

“…Hmm… Grandpa thinks it’s better to talk about paintings.”

“Really?”

Grandpa nodded.

When I turned my eyes to ask Uncle Bang for his opinion, he moved his head very hard and agreed with grandpa’s opinion.

“Then, shall we go eat?”

I ate at Schmincke’s staff restaurant with the staff.

Most of the foods were relatively familiar, and the dishes like pickled pork had a unique flavor and were very delicious.

After finishing the meal, I took a walk around for a while and thought about what to draw, and soon the filming time came.

When I posed with a palette and a brush, photographers took promotional photos.

There were a lot of demands and it was boring, but it was bearable because I could talk to fans right afterward.

“Mr. Hun, you can come this way.”

“Yes.”

“Do you see the camera over there? And the one over there.”

The staff briefly explained to me which direction the camera was.

They also told me how to look at the chat window.

After a while, I was looking at the chat window and people started to come in.

In an instant, 3,000 people came in.

There are some languages that cannot be recognized, but most of them were in English, French, and Korean, so it will not be a big problem.

It’s Ko Hun.

Wow! It’s live!

You’re so cute.

Is it really Ko Hun?

It is…Did you think Schmincke would try to pull such a tasteless prank?

“Hello, I’m Ko Hun.”

I picked up the palette.

I read the sentence that a Schmincke employee was holding.

“I’m at Schmincke’s headquarters. I’m going to do a live broadcast while drawing with paint.”

-I guess he is nervous.

It’s like he’s reading from something.

Is he in Germany?

What’s your relationship with Henry?

You’re such a baby. Oh, cuteeeeeee Baby.

“How did you know? There is a person holding it over there, so I saw it and read it.”

There’s no camera filming the person holding the board, but I pointed out how I knew and read it.

When I finished my words, the chat window began to get filled with words that didn’t make any sense such as LOL, LMAO, ROTFL, mdr, 555…

Are there really such words in English?

The comments go up so fast that I can’t see them properly.

“I’ll talk while drawing.”

I applied liquid white to the wide canvas.

When I look at the chat window while applying it on the canvas, I see a lot of question mark.

-Hoonie, Are you really going to draw?

-Why are you painting white on the paper?

“It’s not paper, it’s called canvas.”

-Is it different?

-????

“It’s different. Canvas is made from cotton or linen.

-What are you doing?

-Why are you applying something in white?

“Oh, this. If you put it on beforehand, it becomes soft and comfortable.”

The comment is going up so fast that my eyes hurt.

Someone asked me what I was going to draw.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I’m going to decide on the go.”

-Draw me a sunflower.

-Do you still fight with Henry Marceau?

-Sunflower Sunflower

-Have you ever tried to eat Sunflower?

-Wow it’s already 20,000 viewers. Is this for real?

We can’t talk like this.

I looked at the chat window and said,

“I can’t do it like this. Say it one by one. Do you want me to draw a sunflower?”

It was like having a conversation with 20,000 people in a single room.

-Cute.

-He’s so cute when he gets angry

-I can’t……I’m dying because of the worldly cuteness…. No, I have to chat.

-I want sunflower!

-What do you usually do with Henry Marceau?

-Why is the Donation blocked? Release it…

-Me me me. How about drawing cats? I love Cats.

-What do you usually do?

(This message has been deleted by the administrator)

The guy above. Are you crazy?

That a**hole, how can he ask such a question to the cute little baby?

Administrator, block that guy off before Hun sees it.

There are always people who cross the line like that. Hun, don’t look at things like that. Don’t look.

“Oh, it’s chaotic.”

I lowered my brush and palette, saw the chat window, and read it slowly.

“What do you usually do with Marceau? I don’t do anything with him. Donation? When I watch TV, they ask for donations to help poor kids. I think you can do it there. Cat? Hmm….Someone asked me to draw a sunflower. Message deleted by the administrator? What’s this?”

“You don’t have to know!”

Uncle Bang shouted from a distance.

It bothers me that I can’t see what my precious fan said, but I should draw a picture because that’s the promise I made with Schmincke.

“Then I’ll draw a cat and a sunflower.”

Since 50,000 people say what they want to say in the chat room, nothing is working properly.

“Wait”

I said looking at the camera.

“Don’t talk, everyone. Shhhhh.”

-Wow we have a cute little dictator in Germany!

-I vote for this dictatorship

-This cuteness…I can’t….I feel like my grandma is waving her hands from heaven.

-Ahhhh. How can he soooo bubbly… I want to bite the cute little pie