Trafford's Trading Club

Tretyakov Museum of Fine Arts.

It was not a Monday, so it was now the opening time. Due to his interest in the architecture at every corner of this city, Boss Luo would definitely not miss out this famous art museum.

After taking a full portrait photo here and sending it to Subeditor Ren’s cell phone, his task today was considered complete--- He had to report his whereabouts to prove that he was safe, which was the condition for Boss Luo to exchange for the opportunity to travel spontaneously.

"If you come to Tretyakov, you shouldn’t lose a chance to take a look at the "Unknown Girl." You Ye said to Luo Qiu.

Luo Qiu nodded, who was reading the museum booklet, "One of the world’s top ten paintings, I’m curious."

Apart from days it was closed, a lot of tourists flocked to the Tretyakov Museum every day. In the crowds, the club boss and the servant girl passed the security check, entering the old museum of this Tretyakov art museum.

Boss Luo liked to get to the point, so he didn’t stop in front of any of the famous paintings.

In the key area of the exhibition hall, Luo Qiu looked directly at the woman in the "Unknown Woman", and had a different way of appreciation from ordinary people--- he could feel the painter’s mood very well.

"Many people think that the woman painted on the picture is the protagonist of Anna• Karenina" worked by Tolstoy; but after all, it was impossible for them to find out. Therefore, some people consider her as an unknown actress--- it seems that only the author himself knows who she really is."

Luo Qiu listened to You Ye’s explanation--- it was much better than the narrator’s of this exhibition area... Luo Qiu referred to the voice.

Of course, these can actually be heard from the narrator’s mouth--- but the next words one might not have chances to listen to from the narrator.

"But in fact, the woman in the portrait..."

"He loved this woman."

Suddenly, You Ye’s words were interrupted--- That was from a tourist with the same batch, who was standing behind them.

With gentle and wavy hair, narrow but high nose, thin lips, and thick beard--- He was like a middle-aged man at the first glance.

However, in the views of Luo Qiu and You Ye that were more sensitive to vitality, this person was quite young, probably no more than 30 years old.

Luo Qiu didn’t feel displeasure at the sudden interruption. He just looked at this typical Russian youth curiously, asking with interest, "How do you know that the painter loves his model? There is even another point of view that the girl is a role the painter dreamed off."

The youthful eyes remained at the picture--- his sight and even his thoughts didn’t seem to be here. Even if he could respond to the problems around him and knew who were around, but it felt like--- that only himself stood in front of the picture.

This was a very rare concentration.

He said, "I can feel it."

Suddenly the young man closed his eyes. He spread out his left hand in front of him, thumb slightly clasped, and his right hand was raised at the same time, as if fingers was grasping something--- this was the gesture of painting.

He seemed to talk to himself, rather than answer anyone’s question, "I can feel every stroke. When I drew picture... when I hesitated ... it was so strong, so touching."

It didn’t seem to be more persuasive, so that he did so--- his right hand was moving slowly in the air.

It was not like a painting gesture ... he was just painting, painting in his heart.

But he was too focused to feel anything out of his body--- his body was being lifted up by two gallery guards at both sides and dragged out.

He had no resistance, still closed his eyes, and drew something by the inexistent palettes and brushes in his hands.

"Sorry, gentleman and young lady, did this guy bother you just now?"

A man like a gallery worker came politely to Luo Qiu and You Ye.

Luo Qiu whispered, "Should he disturb anyone else?"

The staff was stunned... he seldom heard such a reply.

"No, this guy generally doesn’t disturb anyone except us." The staff shook his head, showing quite helpless look.

Looking at the wondering look from this Eastern guy, the staff simply said, "He used to be a museum staff, but was fired due to some mistake. However, this guy is still able to sneak in each time... Oh, sir, you know, we welcome everyone as long as they come in by tickets, but he comes secretly every time, so... you should understand. It’s like a madman’s behavior."

"Oh, I see." Luo Qiu nodded, didn’t ask any more.

The staff smiled, "Sir, your Russian is very good..."

He would like to compliment him, but this guest with eastern face now seemed not to have listened to him at all; instead, he directly turned about to looked at the famous paintings displayed here.

He had the same concentration like the guy who was just dragged out. The staff felt that nothing could attract the guest’s attention at this time.

What the hell.

He suddenly felt an inexplicable coolness, the whole body quivered and he headed down in a hurry to leave.

...

...

The third day.

There was a very strong alcoholic smell in Oleg’s home, which mixed with the rancid smell of his soul.

Because he looked really like a rancid person.

It was the most intuitive feeling of Nikita.

Today Nikita, who was wearing brand new clothes, suddenly thought of his brother Oleg, who took care of him. He originally intended to treat the big brother a big meal today, but...

"Oleg! What happened to you?" Nikita stepped in front of Oleg, frowning at the drunkard. "I went to the company, and the boss said you haven’t been to work for three days. Are you drunk here?"

The sleepy Oleg eyes opened faintly, took a wine hiccup, seemed to recognize Nikita.

He tried to hold up his body from the sofa with both hands--- but he didn’t, and fell down again.

Nikita quickly bent down to support Oleg, but Oleg’s hands were groping at the table, all the beer bottles were swept away, "Give me some vodka."

"What the hell!" Nikita scolded, "You’re not the Oleg I know! You should not be like this! What happened to you?"

Oleg suddenly stopped.

He patted his forehead hard, as if it was the only way he could wake himself up. Oleg’s eyes opened wide, but they were bloodshot.

"You’re right, I should not be like this... I should go to find Antonio." Oleg took Nikita’s arm to stand up and muttered to himself, "I’m going to look for him, look for him, look for him... where’s my key? Where’s my car key? Where’s my key? !!!"

The voice turned louder, more violent, and angrier. He was like a lion, "Where’s my key!!"

Nikita swore that if Anton, who brought him wealth was the strongest guy, then the current Oleg was the most horrifying guy he has ever seen.

"Dude, tell me what happened to Antonio please."

"He... he’s gone, missing." Oleg beat his forehead at full tilt. The alcohol brought him headache so badly, but it couldn’t match the pain in his heart, "Three days, three days... What am I doing? I promised Kamala to take good care of our kid... What am I doing? "

Nikita looked at the appearance of Oleg at this time, the originally happy mood become sort of depressed.

All of a sudden, someone broke in.

It turned to be five sturdy men.

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