Chapter 31: This Curator Is Too Formidable
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To avoid making another mistake, Gao Mo could only echo Iijima while taking the opportunity to ask about the key points of the job.
In the end, he had to listen to a whole stomachful of grievances, all of them complaints about how Boss Manaka had breached his agreement.
Apart from a few minor details that required attention, there was nothing particularly complicated about the work. Kubota had originally only been responsible for moving and replacing the artworks.
It was nothing more than manual labor.
Replacing Iijima would have been the real trouble. The man held a technical position, and there was no way to impersonate him casually.
“By the way, Mr. Kurosaki…” Iijima carefully wrapped the artwork he had taken down. “What exactly is your relationship with Kubota?”
“We have no relationship. I’m just a temporary worker he hired.” Gao Mo helped out while wearing gloves. “He said he’d pay me, but I haven’t seen a cent.”
“That bastard is exactly like that.”
Iijima was equally dissatisfied with Kubota.
“Last month, he secretly took some of the artworks out to sell while we weren’t paying attention. After he was found out, Boss Manaka started demanding compensation from him.
“He should have been fired immediately, but the museum is closing in a few days, so we let it go for the time being… Bringing you here at a time like this definitely can’t mean anything good.”
“Could they be planning to make me pay the compensation?” Gao Mo paused.
“Not to that extent. It’s just… I have a feeling he’s up to no good.”
“It’s fine.”
Gao Mo shook his head, too lazy to concern himself with Kubota.
Whether that fellow ran off had nothing to do with him.
He had never intended to make money this time. All he needed to do was complete the impersonation task properly.
His stored star rating was already close to twenty. He had to hurry and complete four impersonations.
He did not even want to interfere with the incident at the art museum, lest it create complications like the production crew incident a few days ago.
If he accidentally provoked the old curator again, it was entirely possible that the man might kill him as well.
…
The moving continued from morning until afternoon.
They only had a simple fast-food meal in the middle of it all.
Gao Mo silently lamented his fate.
For someone already in poor health, this job was far more exhausting than working as a supermarket cashier. At least he could sit down and rest whenever he was tired—
But watching Iijima toil away like a beast of burden, and remembering that the curator, the museum’s ultimate boss, was still inside, Gao Mo did not dare rest for too long.
In his previous life, he had occasionally been assigned such arduous tasks at the library. He remembered once slyly spending three whole hours in the restroom.
“Leave the rest to me,” Iijima said, wiping away his sweat. “Mr. Kurosaki, go clean the other exhibition halls first. If you see any exhibits that have been moved, remember to put them back where they belong…”
As he spoke, Iijima pointed at a large sack of armor parts on a cart in the corner. “Also, could you drag this to the Hell Exhibition Hall?”
“Got it.”
Gao Mo pulled himself together again.
It seemed this “senior” was not as simple and honest as he appeared. As soon as specialized maintenance work was involved, he had immediately sent Gao Mo away.
Carefully lifting the cloth sack, Gao Mo heard the knight’s armor clanking inside.
“Are these the resurrected knights people have been talking about?”
“No need to be so careful,” Iijima said with a hearty laugh. “They’re only replicas for decoration. Visitors use them as props for photographs.”
“Replicas…”
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Gao Mo remembered that in the original story, the curator, who was fanatically devoted to works of art, had used this very set of replicas to kill people—
Was he transporting the murder weapon to the crime scene?
It felt somewhat strange.
…
There were still some visitors in the main hall, but once they reached the Hell Exhibition Hall, with its sinister atmosphere, not a single person remained in sight.
Gao Mo pulled the cart through the silent corridor. The echoing wheels were somewhat grating, while the bright lights seemed to have dimmed considerably.
Tap. Tap.
A steady, slow set of footsteps came from an exhibition hall beyond the corner.
Gao Mo turned his head, but saw only an elongated shadow flash past.
It seemed to be the old curator.
Once the corridor had fallen silent again, only Gao Mo’s breathing remained. The familiar aura of death surged forth once more. It seemed as though blood were seeping through the surrounding walls, and a chill repeatedly prickled his scalp.
Was it still too late to quit this job?
If only Lan or the Mustached Man were here.
“Whew!”
With the curator blocking the way behind him, Gao Mo could only grit his teeth and continue forward.
The curator would not go so far as to ignore Boss Manaka and attack an outsider like him.
As he entered the Hell Exhibition Hall, the light vanished completely.
The room’s lamps were not switched on. Only the corridor lights cast their glow inside, illuminating one corner of each towering bronze demon statue. Even before he drew near, a terrifying aura surged toward him.
As expected of an exhibition of hell.
In the darkness, it seemed as though actual monsters were lurking there.
Gao Mo looked back and saw no sign of the curator. He relaxed slightly and dragged the armor replicas into an empty space in the inner room.
A murder would take place here in the next few days, but for now it was merely an ordinary exhibition hall. Even someone who knew nothing about art would still be amazed by the style and atmosphere conveyed by the sculptures and paintings.
Beyond that, Gao Mo had only one thought:
These things had to be incredibly expensive.
The old curator had not been exaggerating. If he accidentally damaged anything, he might not be able to afford the compensation.
“Do I have to clean here too?”
Gao Mo did not want to stay in such a pitch-black place for long. Scratching his head, he first began searching for the room’s light switch.
“Where is it…”
“Get out of the way!”
Just as he finally found the switch beside the entrance, a roar exploded beside his ear.
A drowning, dying sensation surged through him. When he looked up, he saw a bronze statue’s massive axe tilting and sliding loose.
Whoosh!
A powerful figure suddenly shoved Gao Mo aside and stopped the falling axe with one arm. White brows, a white beard, and a piercing gaze—under the dim light, he looked like a god of war.
“C-Curator?”
Gao Mo hit the floor hard and gasped for breath as the other man restored the heavy axe to its place on the statue and moved it back.
This…
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He had thought the danger was coming from the curator and had been guarding against the curator all along. Yet the threat to his life had actually come from one of the bronze statues in the museum.
And it was the curator who had saved him…
“Hmph. It must have been that Kubota again. He failed to secure it properly when moving it.”
The old man clasped his slightly trembling arm behind his back, his eyes once again concealed beneath his brows.
“Be careful. Didn’t Iijima tell you that you had to take extra care in this area?”
“Sorry.”
Gao Mo did not dare approach the bronze statues on either side. He hurried after the old curator while carefully observing his surroundings, using his Eagle Eye vision to inspect every possible hazard.
He actually felt safer beside the curator now.
Life was truly unpredictable.
“I’m only taking a look around,” the curator said after switching on the lights, blinking as he adjusted to the brightness. “You go ahead and clean. What happened just now was only an accident. Nothing will happen as long as you pay attention… You’d better inspect things more carefully, so the visitors don’t get hurt.”
“All right…”
Gao Mo was still shaken.
For anyone else, it might have been an accident. But he was not just anyone.
“Thank you… for saving me just now.”
“It was nothing. I happened to arrive in time.”
The old curator stood with his hands behind his back before a gigantic painting that occupied almost the entire wall. After a brief pause, he suddenly called Gao Mo back.
“About what happened this morning… I went too far. I should have warned you first.”
Gao Mo stared in surprise at the curator, who seemed almost to blend into the enormous painting behind him.
The malice that had surrounded the man that morning had completely vanished.
It seemed the Death God’s Mark no longer worked on the curator.
Or perhaps the curator no longer harbored any ill intent at all…
“Kurosaki, what do you think of this painting?”
The old curator tilted his head back and studied the painting as though a father were gazing upon his child, his expression filled with warmth and love.
The painting was titled The Punishment of Heaven. Its composition depicted a righteous knight killing a demon from hell. The knight’s longsword pierced through the demon’s chest, pinning it to a rocky mountain, while blood sprayed across the entire land.
“A righteous knight killing a demon… That doesn’t quite seem like heavenly punishment. The title feels a little off.”
After a moment of silence, Gao Mo replied.
The invitation had only asked him to replace Kubota and do odd jobs. It had never said anything about critiquing art.
And someone like Kubota did not look as though he understood art in the slightest.
“Haha, that’s true. Killing a demon is not divine punishment. But the focus of this painting is not the demon’s death. It is the knight stained with the demon’s blood. Even a righteous knight… cannot escape heavenly punishment in the end.”
The old curator shook his head with a laugh.
“All right, go outside. I’ll do the cleaning… You may have been brought here by Kubota, but you are completely different from him. You are more diligent and responsible, and you cherish the artworks more than he does…
“Perhaps this is fate. Heaven sent you here at precisely this moment.”
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