"This is what you call the 'celebrity effect,'" Yusaku Kudo said with a smile. "The exact same words have two completely different impacts depending on whether they're spoken by an ordinary person or a famous one."
"He can say whatever he wants," Hayashi Shuichi replied, leaning lazily against a pillar in the exhibition hall while shaking his head. "I still think these abstract paintings are eyesores. They look like rags stained with spilled paint."
"How vulgar!" Chikage Tomizawa shot him an annoyed glare.
"Vulgar it is, then. Being a vulgar, ordinary person is perfectly fine," Shuichi laughed dismissively. "It's better than becoming a lunatic like Van Gogh."
"Onii-chan, I'll stay a vulgar person with you," Reiko chirped, clinging to her brother's arm like a needy kitten. "Chikage-neesan is a 'refined' person; we shouldn't bother her with our presence."
The young girl intentionally emphasized the word refined.
This little brat... seizing every chance to get under my skin!
Chikage pursed her lips and took a deep breath, forcing down the urge to snap back.
After their little spat, the group continued further into the museum. Rounding a corner, they entered a side gallery. The lighting here was much dimmer than in the main hall, creating a mysterious, historical atmosphere.
Rei Furuya suddenly let out a gasp of excitement. "Whoa! They actually have knightly armor here! Is this sword a real knight's blade? I wonder if it's sharpened..."
As he spoke, the boy reached out, unable to contain his curiosity. Shuichi was about to stop him, but someone else beat him to it.
"Young man, you mustn't touch those."
The speaker was a middle-aged man dressed in a sharp, formal suit with a gentle, kindly expression.
"Mister, is this sword real?" Rei asked, looking up, his finger still pointing longingly at the cold, shimmering blade.
"Of course it is," the man replied with a warm chuckle. "This suit of armor and the longsword have existed for hundreds of years. Touching them carelessly could easily cause damage."
"When we perform our daily cleaning and maintenance, we must wear perfectly clean gloves."
"Mister, do you work here?" Narumi asked shyly.
"I do," the man said, smiling as he reached out to pat little Narumi on the head. "My name is Ochiai. I am the director of this museum."
Director Ochiai... Shuichi couldn't help but take a closer look at the man.
"The armor is very well-maintained," Yusaku Kudo observed, stepping forward to inspect the display. "I can't see a single speck of rust."
"But of course," Director Ochiai smiled proudly. "To me, every single work in this gallery is like my own child."
As he spoke, his eyes swept over every exhibit in the room with a tender, paternal gaze.
"I treat them with the utmost care and love at all times."
After a few more minutes of small talk, Director Ochiai left to attend to his duties, and Shuichi's group continued their tour.
Eventually, they arrived at the gallery located at the very heart of the museum. The lights here were significantly brighter, and the crowd was noticeably denser than in the other sections.
On the largest central wall hung a massive landscape painting of Mount Fuji. Its frame shimmered with a golden luster under the focused spotlights. Two uniformed security guards stood on either side of the artwork, watching the passing tourists with vigilant eyes.
"It's so beautiful," Narumi whispered, eyes wide as he instinctively covered his mouth with his small hands.
In the painting, Mount Fuji was bathed in the light of the morning sun, taking on a dreamlike, ethereal pink hue. The lake at the foot of the mountain reflected the snowy peaks with breathtaking clarity.
"Is this the one that sold for over two hundred million yen?" Reiko's eyes seemed to glitter with the reflection of gold coins.
"So this is Master Kisaragi's work?"
Rei Furuya stared up at it for a while before scratching his head, looking perplexed. "The mountain is definitely painted well, but I don't feel that 'thing' the master was talking about earlier."
"You're talking nonsense again," Chikage said, reaching out to give Rei's head a light swat. "The fact that this painting sold for over two hundred million yen proves it has extraordinary qualities."
"Tch," Rei muttered, rubbing the spot where he'd been hit. "Then why don't you tell us what's so good about it?"
"I'm a bit confused too. When you guys talk about these paintings, it's always 'soul' this and 'emotion' that," Shuichi interjected. "Regarding this painting, besides it being a pretty picture of Mount Fuji, does it really have a soul? Because I'm just not feeling it."
"That's because you don't understand art!" Chikage huffed. "Whether it's the composition or the weight of the brushstrokes, this is a masterpiece among masterpieces—"
"Actually," Yusaku Kudo chimed in, "I feel like it's missing something as well."
"Hey! Since when did you become so vulgar too?" Chikage stamped her foot in frustration. "If this classic work had that many problems, how could it have fetched such a high price?"
Her logic was hard to argue with, to the point where even Yusaku began to wonder if his own artistic judgment was flawed.
Just then, a low, deep voice suddenly rang out. "The quality of a painting should never be measured by money!"
The group turned to see Master Hosui Kisaragi, whom they had met earlier. He was standing before the Mount Fuji painting, hands clasped behind his back, his expression grim.
The sunlight streaming through the gallery's skylight glinted off his bald head and thick handlebar mustache.
Shuichi wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he felt that the Master's gaze toward the painting was conflicted—a mix of lingering attachment and intense disdain.
"There is indeed a problem with this painting," Master Kisaragi murmured as if to himself. "It has only technique... but no soul."
"Master, they were just speaking out of turn..." Chikage tried to explain.
"No, they are not wrong." Master Kisaragi shook his head. He continued to stare blankly at the painting, falling into a heavy silence.
It's all your fault!
Chikage glared at Shuichi and Yusaku.
With the atmosphere turning awkward, the group felt it best not to linger. They turned and made their way out of the gallery.
Shuichi teased, "Even the Master said we were right, yet here you are still going on about 'masterpieces.'"
He intentionally mimicked Chikage's earlier agitated tone, making Reiko giggle uncontrollably.
"Hmph, the Master was just being polite," Chikage argued defiantly. "This painting is his claim to fame. Without this Mount Fuji, Master Kisaragi's reputation wouldn't be anywhere near what it is today."
"If a painting like this truly had problems, someone would have pointed it out long ago. It wouldn't be up to you guys to notice it!"
"Judging by Master Kisaragi's reaction," Yusaku Kudo said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, "there might be more to the story here."
"I don't care about the story! The fact remains that it sold for over two hundred million yen!" Chikage's voice rose an octave in her excitement. "That is the ultimate proof of its value!"
Just as the words left her mouth, a blood-curdling scream pierced through the air from the gallery housing the Mount Fuji painting. It was immediately followed by a chorus of gasps and the sound of panicked, frantic footsteps...
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