The Versatile Master Artist

During corporate training, the more common way to engage with a target is to offer a cigarette.

This time, her employer was a minor, and she was afraid of residual smoke affecting the person, so the female bodyguard didn’t carry cigarettes while working.

So when she ordered meals today, she specifically ordered an extra work meal.

A fragrant Wagyu burger priced at fifty thousand Myanmar Kyat can also help build rapport in moments like these, serving as a substitute for a cigarette.

"What do you want to ask?"

The limping man extended his hand to take the burger.

As the female bodyguard handed over the burger, she lightly scraped the inside of the other person’s finger with her nail, not in a flirtatious manner. She felt a hard callus on the inside of his fingertip, a callus left by friction with a gun trigger.

The woman’s pupils contracted.

Indeed, a dangerous character.

Uncle Ah Lai expressionlessly watched the bodyguard experimenting in front of him, his eyes seemingly smiling.

"My car engine’s having some trouble, could you lend me a hand?" the female bodyguard adjusted her expression, displaying a professional smile as she asked.

"Alright, young lady, if you want to know if I’ve had military training, just say so."

Uncle Ah Lai extended his palm, openly showing her the marks on it.

Since becoming Gu Weijing’s assistant, it felt like a new Chapter in his life had begun.

Uncle Ah Lai seemed more at ease with his past, smiling confidently, "You’re not mistaken, these aren’t marks from a mechanic’s hex screwdriver, they’re from polishing a gun, I used to be a soldier."

"A veteran? There are many ways to make money, may I ask why you’re here... as a doorman?" said the female bodyguard, maintaining her professional smile, but instinctively placing her hand on her gun handle.

An accomplice in a kidnapping ring? A thug? An informant?

The bodyguard cautiously speculated about what this incongruent man was really up to.

"Then why are you here?"

Uncle Ah Lai scrutinized the athletic woman across from him.

"I’ve always thought that security personnel in suits belonged in Hollywood movies. Unless it’s for a grand business or governmental occasion, writing ’I’m a bodyguard’ on your face lowers concealment and subtly affects the client’s everyday life."

"If clothing can be considered company regulation, then in Myanmar’s environment, either you’re equipped with real guns to demonstrate strength, or you don’t have guns to reduce perceived aggression in outsiders. Both are smarter choices than wandering around with a Taser on your hip."

"Have you read any papers?" Uncle Ah Lai asked in a tone used to instruct children.

"What?"

"Papers on the deterrence of firearms and criminal psychology. It seems you haven’t been trained in this area, and your instructor hasn’t mentioned it to you either. Sigh, young people these days..."

Uncle Ah Lai observed the female bodyguard tightly gripping her plastic gun handle, shaking his head in dismay.

"To any true desperado, a Taser isn’t a concern, it just signals you lack the courage to employ deadly force. It’s overkill for intimidating ordinary people. Studies show that in close-range shooting, regardless of where a Taser’s electrodes hit, the risk of cardiac arrest induced by electrical current is significant and uncontrollable, completely not worth the risk. For such tasks, the optimal equipment choice is actually real guns with the first three bullets in the magazine being rubber anti-riot bullets, followed by live rounds."

"Of course, it’s possible your security company lacks the capability to obtain a license for specialized ammunition."

Uncle Ah Lai gestured dismissively at the bodyguard Miss who was on the brink of panic, "Calm down, don’t be nervous, I don’t intend on doing anything. I just couldn’t help but comment on how amateurish the younger generation in the security industry seems nowadays."

"Maintaining vigilance all the time is good. But young lady, let me tell you honestly... observe the situation more before you act in the future."

"Even if I were truly a villain, even if your probing did uncover something, you should ensure you can take me on first, that’s the simplest truth, right?"

"Disturbing the grass to startle the snake, if it turns out to be a tiger, that’s not something easily handled."

Uncle Ah Lai tossed the burger into the female bodyguard’s bag, not caring if she was almost dumbstruck, and left with a smile.

-----------------

Candle flickering, the smell of melted butter filled the guardhouse’s air.

You get what you pay for.

Gu Weijing gently tore off a piece of pancake flavored with ham and cheese, binging on its addictiveness.

"Katsuko?"

He noticed Koizumi Katsuko across the table, constantly glancing down at her phone even during meals, frowning occasionally.

Curiously, Gu Weijing asked, "What are you watching? A Japanese drama?"

"The shareholders meeting resolution of the ’Oil Painting’ magazine. Have you paid attention to the personnel changes in this long-established art critique magazine recently?" Koizumi Katsuko whispered mysteriously.

"Our subscription email seemed to have received a statement about some magazine reformation. However, I didn’t read it closely."

Gu Weijing inexplicably responded, "Did something happen to the ’Oil Painting’ magazine?"

Myanmar is too remote.

Any waves in the art market, when conveyed here, became mere ripples.

"Yes, it’s this reformation. You might want to pay attention to it, my father said this might be the most significant moment in art history since Picasso’s death over the past half-century. Even if the Gagosian Gallery were to announce its disbandment tomorrow, it wouldn’t be as attention-grabbing as this."

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