Almighty painter

Chapter 268 The Collapsed Empire
"Fick dich!"

Ole cursed secretly in German.

He is really not the kind of second-generation ancestor who only knows how to lie on the trust account at home, play sports cars, and star.

The banker has always behaved very Grandet in his life, and the tip for the shoe shine doorman is only 50 euro cents.But every year on his birthday, he would give each of his children a large check of [-] euros to cultivate their financial management concepts.

Some siblings like to use the money to party and vacation on luxurious islands in the Maldives.

And when he was six years old, accompanied by his guardian, he opened the first stock account. Relying on the chestnuts in the European crude oil crisis, the banker’s birthday gift of 100 euros per year, when Ole became an adult, the account had snowballed to nearly [-] million euros.

Riding the wind and waves in the financial market, he is omnipotent, but he was stopped by a group of old men and women who were walking!

"You have to think of a way. I paid for it."

He said irritably to the worker wearing a hard hat who was responsible for transporting the sculpture.

"What can I do? The crane is surrounded and cannot be lifted if it cannot move. Boss, I am also in a hurry."

The big construction brother was biting a sandwich and smoking a cigarette leisurely, his eyes were fixed on the young lady dancing on the screen of the mobile phone, and he didn't seem to be in a hurry.

He puffed out the smoke ring and said emphatically: "Engineering vehicles here are paid on a daily basis. When encountering such a thing, it is force majeure and it is not a breach of contract. If you don't want to, we will cancel the contract and leave. When the coordination is completed, Contact us again."

"Can you lift it manually without a vehicle? I can add money."

"Manual lifting?"

The construction brother sneered and pointed at the statue of the old count holding an oil painting magazine: "Do you have any idea? That thing is made of pure copper and weighs nearly seven tons. I told you that the construction vehicles can't drive in front of us and we want to force the construction. There is no way. Otherwise, you can only find a way to break it down and move it piece by piece. Instead of worrying in front of me, you might as well ask the city council or the police station."

"Shit."

Ole's nose was going crooked in anger.

He had already contacted the city council and the police station, and the council simply gave the construction approval.

It's just that this sculpture turned out to be a protected cultural relic in the list of works of art in Glize City, and it could be moved to Elena's Manor, and it was absolutely impossible to demolish it violently with gas cutting.

The police station also sent someone.

The officer on duty had gray hair, and he looked like he was just waiting to die or retire, and he had no fighting strength. At this time, he was teasing cats among the ladies who were walking.

People said it.

If the marching crowd showed aggressive intentions, or hindered the normal functioning of the city, he could call the headquarters for support as required.Now everyone is just a mild protest in front of the crane for a walk, forgive him for being helpless.

"Damn, damn, damn!"

Ole remembered his cousin's disdain for her, and raised his head to look at Count Elena's pensive face on the sculpture in front of him. The more he looked at it, the more unhappy he became, and he always felt that it was a silent mockery of his incompetence.

The greasy-headed youth wants to spit on the sculpture to relieve his spirit.

Halfway through vomiting,
He suddenly realized again that this thing was a protected cultural relic.

There may be journalists among those prowling protesters, and it would be a bad idea to have this kind of behavior filmed and published in the newspapers.

Ole had no choice but to swallow his saliva abruptly, coughing until the saliva choked on him.

You can't drag it away, you can't smash it, you can't even vent it.

This 7-ton big copper lump really made him a little bit grumpy.

"What's wrong? Why are so many people gathering in front of the magazine?"

Oller's cell phone rang.

He answered the phone, and Sir Brown's voice came through the receiver.

"I……"

"I'm at the door right now, get in the car and tell me." The director of the magazine hung up the phone.

The oil-headed youth looked around for a week and found a dark Volvo XC90 parked under the shade of the trees on the side of the street. Sir Brown went to the New Art Center in Glitz this morning to preside over a new exhibition hall prepared for the European Art Annual Conference Completed to speak, just came back at this time and saw the scene in front of him.

Ole opened the door.

"I saw the sign, so things are not going well. It's just moving a sculpture." Sir Brown asked straight to the point, frowning.

"There are some dissident Glize citizens. There are not many people, but we must respond quickly and respond accordingly."

Ole considered his words carefully. He is not only the executive director of the magazine, but also the agent of Kruger Bank, the largest shareholder of "Oil Painting".

Despite the same main interests as Sir Brown.

Ole still didn't want to appear too weak in front of the opponent, let alone sound like an imbecile who couldn't even do such a simple thing.

"Oh, how do you want to respond quickly?"

Sir Brown didn't want to listen to his cliches in financial reports to fool people, and asked calmly.

"How about... have a meal with the speaker of Glize City?"

"This year is a critical year for local elections. He will not agree to such a sensitive period. Besides, if you want to lobby the parliament, it is a bit too mobilizing. Political influence should be used at critical moments, and it is just a sculpture. The council has already given the approval." Mr. Brown shook his head.

"Where are the leaders of the labor union?" Ole racked his brains to recall the few words that his father and the helmsmen of those industrial entities had talked at the dinner table.

"Please, Mr. Kruger, my dear friend. This is not a strike demonstration by American truck drivers. Glitz is a cultural tourism city with a low degree of industrialization. Do you think that some of those old men and women are workers, Will they listen to union leaders?"

These schemes are too dogmatic.

Sir Brown shook his head in disappointment, and glanced at the parade crowd holding various signs.

These uncles and aunts are like stinky dog ​​feces stuck to the soles of their shoes. They cannot be rubbed off or shaken off. It is really disgusting to deal with.

"It's still a bit underestimating the influence of the Irina family rooted in this city."

The chairman is an experienced politician.

Unlike the greasy-headed youths around him, he lacks sufficient social practice experience.

The probability that these seven aunts and eight aunts are spontaneously organized is very low.

There is a high probability that there is a black hand behind the scenes.

Mr. Brown glanced through the car window, scanning the crowd protesting in front of the crane, and soon locked on the figure of a young girl holding a sign.

The young girl also recognized the license plate on the side of the road.

Carrying the slogan "Kruger Bank Get Out", she leisurely strolled over and knocked on the window, and passed a leaflet through Sir Brown's open car window.

"Citizens of Glize City, unite and protect our precious "Oil Painting" magazine. If the old bitch Brown wants to sell it, he can sell his own ass!" The girl said in a wicked tone in front of Sir Brown face said.

Sir Brown waved to stop Ole who was about to explode.

Instead, he lowered all the windows of the car.

He looked at himself in the pamphlet, who was dressed like a procuress in a European brothel, and there was a whore dressed like a Dutch window girl standing next to him. His facial features and blond hair were vaguely similar to Ole beside him.

"Such impactful caricatures in the style of American comics should not be drawn by Ms. Irina. Anna is not a good painter by nature. Her works always make people feel that there is a layer of veil between emotion and technique. And this painting is too market-like, unlike the work of a young lady like her."

He commented politely.

"I drew it. What do you think, Sir Brown, your breasts are big enough and your butt is perky enough!" The female secretary Elliot looked at the chairman on the car seat proudly.

She didn't wear the blue-gray professional dress like the white-collar lawyer at the shareholder meeting that day.

Floral T-shirt, skinny jeans, silver coconut sneakers.She looked exactly like a female student who "happened" to be participating in a parade.

"Well, quite talented in painting."

Sir Brown smiled gracefully: "But since everyone has made a resolution to move towards a new era at the shareholders' meeting, Miss Anna is still the largest private shareholder of Oil Painting Magazine."

The chairman pointed to the protesting crowd dozens of meters away, and made a sad facial expression: "We are all passengers on the same boat. Even if we don't want to help each other, we can get together and get together. It's too embarrassing to do this now I'm sad."

"Sir Brown. Our lady said that one chooses either to be a Viking or a moral saint. You can't jump into someone else's boat, throw the master over the gangplank, and make a grandiose Talk about helping each other in times of trouble, getting together and getting together. This is too ridiculous."

Elliott, the little secretary, squinted his eyes and smiled at the old gentleman in the carriage: "It makes me so happy to hear that you are sad."

"It's very incisive. Miss Anna should really consider going into politics or something, maybe it's more promising than fighting with my magazine. Those poor old royalist parties in the European Parliament really need such a good appearance and good conditions. The new blood of public affinity, maybe she will be elected as the queen of the Danube Federation. If Miss Irina announces that she wants to restore the old empire one day, I will consider voting for her." Sir Brown still smiled Telling bad jokes.

He just pointed out the words "my magazine" with an emphatic tone.

"If miss, she doesn't want to be a queen, but just wants to keep the sculpture of the ancestors in front of the magazine." Elliott said softly.

"It's just a sculpture, why are you so persistent?" Sir Brown said.

"It's just a sculpture, why are you so persistent?" Elliot asked.

There was silence in the carriage for two seconds.

Both parties are actually asking questions knowingly.

It wasn't just a bronze sculpture, but something like a flag.One day the sculpture stood in front of the magazine building, and the old shadow of the Irene family did not always weigh on Sir Brown's heart.

"Well, if you're so persistent, then my answer is no."

Sir Brown shook his head slowly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then. Maybe I should print a bigger poster, and maybe you'll see your own mug shot on the evening TV news."

Elliott shook his head indifferently.

"Don't think that you can secretly construct at night, let me tell you, there will be people watching here for a long time to come."

The smile on Sir Brown's face also disappeared.

He said calmly and slowly: "The Irina family may indeed be very influential in this city, but so what. Could they stay here for a few years like besieging Troy? The crowd will always disperse On the day I went, they stayed here for ten days, and I removed the bronze statue on No. 11. They stayed here for a hundred days, and I made the bronze statue of the old count disappear on the morning of 1 and [-] .”

"I can wait slowly, but any imprint of the Irina family will dissipate in the jungle of history. This is what will happen in the future. This is not my power alone, but the power of the times. Any resistance It's all pointless struggle."

"Is this your prediction? All those who acted as prophets in history ended up on the stake." Eliot looked into Sir Brown's eyes.

"The magazine's decision cannot be changed. If you are willing, you can regard this as an oath that combines the will of a saint and the determination of a pirate."

Chairman Brown said in a deep voice.

Anyone could hear the determination in the old gentleman's tone.

"Then...see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow. Say hello to Anna for me. One last thing, the cartoon is well drawn, Miss Elliot."

"Forget it, put away your hypocritical politeness. I can't be worthy of Sir Brown's praise. I know you hate me to death." Elliott nodded casually, and picked up the protest sign in his hand again .

Sir Browne nodded back.

He waved to the driver, the XC90 motor started silently, and the Volvo slid slowly into the underground parking lot under the magazine.

"Ser. I say... they may mean it."

Ole next to him doesn't have such a deep city as Sir Brown. Looking at the promotional leaflet in his hand standing in the window, imagine how this poster will look when it appears on the evening news.

The corner of the greasy-headed youth's mouth twitched twice.

Since she was a child, Cousin Anna has always kept her promise. She said she would fight them to the death, and she would fight them to the death.

"It's okay, just keep watching. I'm serious too, time is up to us." Sir Brown could not see any impatience on his face.

For the vast majority of citizens in Glize City.

Elena is just a distant name, and the new generation of young people have never seen the most glorious past of this family.

Most of the pride of the city is just lip service.

Anna’s ancestors helped fight against the German army’s suppression of “degenerate art” during World War II and protected many artists.But these stories are in the past, and no one except documentaries will mention them anymore.

The art empire of the Elena family collapsed the moment the resolution of the shareholders' meeting was announced.

The sculpture in front of the magazine office is the last pavilion for people to pay homage to.

How long can you cry for a grave?

Is it possible to bring people back to life from crying?

What really worries Sir Brown now is the phone call he received suddenly.

(End of this chapter)