Van Gogh Reborn! Chapter 102

Robert Meyer

He had dark blonde hair and was quite tall. 

He was about one or two feet taller than the tallest and most muscular person I have ever seen– grandpa.  

He shook hands with Uncle Bang and greeted me with a big smile. 

“Welcome, Sir Ko Sooyeol. Mr. Ko Hun.” 

“Nice to meet you. I'm Ko Sooyeol.” 

“Hello.” 

After greeting each other, Robert Meyer immediately showed us to the accommodation. 

I was briefly introduced to tomorrow's schedule on the way. 

“As I told you, we will explain the guidelines tomorrow morning. In the afternoon, we shoot after a simple rehearsal.” 

Uncle Bang told me in advance, but I wonder if it's okay to just draw in front of the camera. 

“Ist es in Ordnung, nichts weiter zu sagen”

(Is it okay not to say anything else?) 

Robert Meyer was stunned by my question. 

“I didn't know you could speak German.” 

“A little,” 

Robert Meyer said with a smile. 

“They might ask you tomorrow, but you don't have to overdo it. It's better to be natural.” 

I was thinking about showing off my painting skills after a long time. 

I guess I don't have to do that. 

“The shoot….. Isn't it too short? I was told it was until 4 o'clock.” 

Uncle Bang asked to confirm. 

“Haha. If we run companies here for the same amount of time you guys work in Korea, our company would be closed by the government.” 

“I envy you guys.” 

Uncle Bang nodded with a few slaps on his knees. 

“What does it mean, Uncle Bang?” 

“Oh, there's a work hour set by the country called legal working hours.” 

I wonder what's going on with the work hours set by the country. 

“Can't you do your job as you please?” 

“Hahaha. It's not like that, it's made to protect the working people so that the companies don't overwork their employees.' 

“Oh.” 

My thoughts were short. 

Certainly, the life of mine workers was disastrous, and they had to spend 16 hours a day in a narrow mine shaft. 

There were often people who died working beyond losing their health. 

If you set aside time to work in the country to prevent such a thing, at least there will be no such tragedy. 

“Was Germany 35 hours a week?” 

“It's changed to 28 hours. Well, at first it was only the manufacturing sector, but now it's applicable to all sectors.”

“28 hours?” 

Uncle Bang was surprised. 

I didn't make a sound, but grandpa and I opened our eyes wide and faced each other. 

I think 35 hours a week itself is too little, but they seem to have shortened it to 28. 

“Can you keep the company running even if you work like that?” 

Robert Meyer answered by looking at me in the rearview mirror. 

“Most of the processes are automated. Since machines are working, we're trying to come up with ideas to make better paint, or we're looking for ways for more people to use paint.” 

Automatisierung? 

I heard an unfamiliar word. 

“What's automation?” 

“It's literally a machine that moves on its own without people moving it. After going through the transition period, maintenance is now possible with only a few administrators.” 

People can create things without having to work. 

It's an amazing world indeed. 

It seems that you can spend the time saved like that for leisure. 

After a while, we arrived at the hotel. 

It seems that Robert Meyer has been scheduled in advance to stay in Düsseldorf. 

I went straight to the room. 

“Then I'll pick you up tomorrow morning.” 

“Thank you.” 

I send off Robert Meyer. 

After unpacking and washing, I felt tired. 

It's because I've been to many places. 

I was lying on the bed face down when grandpa asked me to get ready to go to eat. 

I couldn't skip a meal, so I barely got up. 

“Are you tired?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then shall we eat here instead of going out?” 

“Can we?” 

“Why not? Let's see.” 

Grandpa opened the menu next to the phone. 

You can order sandwiches, steaks, salads, pizzas, and more. 

“I'll have sandwiches, salmon steaks, potato pizza, and salad.” 

“That much?” 

“We have Uncle Bang.” 

“Oh, I heard he'll be eating with Meyer. There must be a lot to talk about since they haven't met in a long time.” 

It must be a lot to eat with grandpa without Uncle Bang. 

“Then I'll just have pizza and steak.” 

“You don't eat any vegetables lately? Let's eat pizza and salad. Huh?” 

I don't want to give up salmon steak, but I can't throw away potato pizza. 

I must try German potato pizza. 

Germany is the first country to eat potatoes in Europe, so it must be special. 

I nodded my head. 

Shortly after grandpa ordered food, the hotel staff brought a pizza and salad with sausages, potatoes, and cheese. 

I've eaten a combination of potatoes and bacon so far, and I wonder what kind of ensemble it will make. 

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“Thank you for the meal,” 

I took out a piece. 

The cheese sprinkled by the generous chef stretched and drooped. 

The potatoes and sausages cut and put on them look delicious at a glance. 

When I opened my mouth wide and filled my mouth, I felt like I was in my mother's arms. 

The juice from the sausage fills the mouth and soon mixes gently with the fluffy potatoes to add flavor. 

What a benevolent taste this is. 

Just one bite is as dense as it will make your stomach full. 

What about the mayonnaise that goes with it? He is simply the best ally. 

The admiring tea's unique scent pierces the nasal cavity. 

The potato pizza, which was soft and warm like wool, felt different. 

Mustard? 

It tastes similar, but it's not the mustard sauce I know. 

The pungent smell is much stronger. 

It's like seeing the other side of a potato pizza that's so perfect that it can be monotonous.

I think I can eat more thanks to this sauce. 

The person who made this pizza must be a craftsman. 

“Let's eat salad together.” 

I was forced to pick up my fork at grandpa's words. 

Eating a salad made of potatoes, red onions, carrots, and celery definitely refreshes my mouth. 

Suddenly, I remembered what I heard from Robert Meyer a while ago. 

“I think automation will make people feel comfortable. They don't have to work.” 

Grandpa nodded. 

“I heard that this pizza store is also automated in the United States.” 

“How?” 

“The pizza truck goes around the town. And then when the order comes in, they take it right away.” 

Pizza truck. 

What a thrilling word it is? 

“Is that also called automation?” 

“They analyze consumption patterns. For example, we eat potato pizza on Monday night, right?” 

“Yes.” 

“If you repeat that, AI will remember it, so we'll have a potato pizza ready for Monday evening. It will come near our house. Pizza is also made by a machine in the truck.” 

“What?” 

Grandpa said something strange. 

“What's AI?”” 

“I don't know exactly. Let's find it.” 

Grandpa searched for AI on his smartphone. 

It is said to be an artificially created system that enables learning, reasoning, adaptation, and argumentation. 

I don't know even if I look at it. 

“What if  I don't want to eat on Monday?” 

“Well, that's a  loss which is less compared to the cost of paying salary to a person.” 

This means that the price of pizza thrown away is less than the remuneration paid to the worker. 

Any merchant who seeks profit will naturally choose the latter. 

“What about the pizza maker?” 

“They will lose their jobs. Automation is convenient, but it's limited to those who can enjoy it. It's not good for everyone.” 

I thought the workers who were overworked in the mine would be able to live comfortably now. 

But I never thought that with the current situation even the right to work is being in jeopardy. 

“And what will happen to them, grandpa? What would they do to eat?” 

“They'll find another job.” 

This wouldn't have happened overnight. 

However, even those who have not adapted to the changes of the times should maintain their livelihood. 

It's not right for dismissing them solely for their lack of ability to adapt to the changing times. 

London, England, 1876. 

It's been a while since my uncle expanded his business to London. 

In the meantime, the number of visitors has increased considerably, and I was able to sell a piece to regular customers today. 

“Thank you.” 

“Okay, I'll be back.” 

As I exhaled at the thought of doing one thing, Nick Park, who works with me, put out his tongue. 

“Who is he? He comes here once a week? How much money does he have?” 

I smirked. 

“Roger Scott. He's running a wool factory.”-

“Wow. He's the factory manager? Next time try to snap up the sales.” 

“Don't say nonsense, go and sweep the floor.”

Nick Park shrugged and raised the broom. 

I looked on the desk to organize the documents and found Roger Scott's watch. 

I hurriedly packed it and went outside, but Scott's carriage was already going far away. 

“Nick, I'm going out for a second.” 

“Where?”

“Mr. Scott left his watch behind. I'll go to his place and give it to him.” 

“Why? Won't he come next time anyway?” 

“Everything like this is customer care. Anyway, I'll be back.” 

“Yeah.” 

It was quite chilly, so I packed my coat and hat. 

If I walk diligently, it will take about 30 minutes to get to Roger Scott's factory. 

I hurried my steps. 

The wind was colder than I thought, so my face seems to be freezing. 

When I arrived in front of the factory, the security guard put a grim look on his face. 

“Who are you?” 

“ I'm Vincent van Gogh.” 

TRIVIA

The mustard sauce we commonly know comes from Dijon mustard, invented by Jean Naigeon in 1865. Unlike previous mustard, Dijon Mustard, which had a pungent taste, was greatly loved and later developed into various forms.

Chapter end