In a daze, he crossed over and became the heir of the german emperor, and the protagonist was confident to reestablish the german empire and conquer whole Europe.

When the whole of Europe shuddered under the wings of the German Air Force,

When the tiger tank roared and smashed the walls of Moscow,

Wilhelm stood in front of many reporters and smiled:

“No one can stop the expansion of the Third Reich except God.”

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BRAVE NEW WORLD: Examining the Zeitgeist at THE ART STORYNovember 16, 2020
 
Display Thousands of Museum-Quality Artworks in Your Home or OfficeMay 9, 2017
 
Become a Superhuman via Art Exercises (and Marina Abramović)April 24, 2017
 BRAVE NEW WORLD: Examining the Zeitgeist at THE ART STORY
My Latest Discovery:
I am excited to share a vital resource for online art history research called The Art Story.  This resource is a growing compendium for art lovers, artists, curators, writers, educators, students and the curious looking for concise and expansive art histories.  They have accumulated the largest online encyclopedia of art in the world, with over 1000 topic pages. The Art Story has specialized pages to address your interests, whether you are looking up an artist (Picasso, Michelangelo, or Kara Walker), an art movement (Impressionism, Performance, or Baroque), or an art concept (The Readymade, Renaissance Humanism, or Collage).
Founder Michael Zurakhinsky started The Art Story, noticing that art history education wasn't always accessible or factual online.  One of the best resources was Wikipedia, but as an art history learning tool its' value seemed limited. He was disappointed that prominent arts organizations such as the Museum of Modern Art in New York City only cover their own collection, do not cover the rest of art history, and often provide links to Wikipedia instead of their own curatorial research on their website.  Many encyclopedic art textbooks are terribly outdated. Newer, topic-based books are more inclusive, but they focus on singular subjects. To understand how a particular artist or movement connects to others is a herculean task. After 12 years with hundreds of writers on the job, The Art Story is now available to all, and for free!
The Challenge:
As a former museum educator at MoMA, Brooklyn Museum, and Studio Museum in Harlem, I was always craving a comprehensive tool for art history research on the internet. I am happy to have discovered The Art Story, and I use it in researching classes I teach, including my current online course at Pratt Institute, "Brave New World: Daily Artmaking Ritual."
I took The Art Story for a research spin in contemplation of these unprecedented times. I share here with you how I put together a grouping of artworks navigating the consistent, accessible architecture of the Art Story website. I was able to save hours of research time and enjoyed having an easy, reliable way to travel through the site connecting artist's works to different art movements, influences, genres, and other concepts.
A Brave New World – Contemplations and Discoveries:
Artists throughout history are known to interpret and challenge the zeitgeist of their times. The year 2020 has amplified ideological battlegrounds and ignited public health and environmental challenges.  We battle two concurrent pandemics in the United States and globally; the coronavirus and the fight for human rights spearheaded by Black Lives Matter. While thinking about the global pandemic, we can examine artworks made during past pandemics including the concurrent Syphilis and Spanish Flu outbreaks in Post-WW1 Europe and the AIDS crisis in the 1990s, with it's devastating impact on New York City. Climate change and environmental issues have erupted globally with science denial by the United States government affecting our ability to contain the coronavirus.  Many activist artists are making work about these issues, let's look at art history to compare notes.
Timely Treasures from The Art Story Website:
 George Grosz
The Funeral: Tribute to Oskar Panizza, 1917-18
Artwork on The Art Story
As I started my research, I was thinking about artists who lived through the previous world pandemic.  Looking up the keyword Spanish Flu brought me to an article about Egon Schiele (The Female Nude) After reading about the artist, who died very young from the Spanish Flu in 1918, I became curious about other artists painting that year.  I found an artwork that encapsulates that pandemic era perfectly.
German Expressionist George Grosz painted A Funeral: Tribute to Oskar Panizza in homage to writer and psychiatrist Oskar Panizza, known for his critiques against the post-WWI German government. This passionately expressive painting deploys Cubist and Futurist techniques to capture the chaos of plague, war, syphilis, and alcohol. Grosz described The Funeral as a "gin alley of grotesque dead bodies and madmen…. A teeming throng of possessed human animals… think: that wherever you step, there's the smell of shit."
George Grosz captured the tight quarters and frenetic pathos of a city riddled with disease. The Funeral is ablaze with color, a tattered flag, a priest waving a glowing white cross, a club festooned with  a "Dance Tonight" sign, bodegas and cafés that stand in counterpoint to the huddled masses and tightly-packed flaming apartments. From a contemporary lens, this hallucinatory hellscape speaks to our collective unconscious, as fears of disease and death have colored the urban landscape, where there's no option but constant motion.
Even though George Grosz paints a grim scenario, the colors and the details feel so rich and satisfying to me as a viewer. The Funeral makes me wonder if imagining a monstrous hellscape can be cathartic. Which other artists throughout history have created their own visions of hell to express their societal concerns?
 Felix Gonzalez-Torres
Untitled: Lover Boy, 1989
Artwork on The Art Story
I was searching through The Art Story for an artist who was making work during the AIDS Crisis, so I did a keyword search on the main search bar. Felix Gonzalez-Torres came up first in the search. 
Cuban-born American Minimalist and Conceptual artist, Felix Gonzalez-Torres brought his personal history and politics to tackle issues such as gay rights, gun violence, and the AIDS crisis. Gonzalez-Torres tracked the impact of the crisis through creating intimate works, foreshadowing and later mourning the loss of his lover, Ross Laylock, who died due to AIDS-related complications. Gonzalez-Torres considered his muse, Laylock, his primary audience.  Untitled: Lover Boy captures the depth of eternal love. The two sets of windows ajar, with curtains blowing into an interior domestic space conjure breath, the intertwined souls of two men partnered in transcendence of earthly boundaries.
Untitled: Lover Boy was made in an atmosphere of government neglect of the disproportionately affected the LGBTQ+ community.  I think about each of the over 230, 000 people who have died from the coronavirus in the United States thus far.  Each one of them is connected to someone, somewhere who feels that eternal love like Gonzalez-Torres did for Laylock.  We walk alongside our lost ones. Looking at works by Gonzalez-Torres can help us to cope creatively with grief, and mortality.
 Kehinde Wiley
Judith Beheading Holofernes, 2012
Artwork on The Art Story
One of my favorite ways to search through The Art Story is to look at the Artworks page for each artist I am interested in.  When I looked up Kehinde Wiley, I was reminded of his 2017 Presidential portrait of Barack Obama, hanging in the National Portrait Gallery and how it conjured conservative resistance, because of Wiley's 2012 painting Judith Beheading Holofernes.
Many famed artists including Artemisia Gentileschi, Lucas Cranach the Elder, and Caravaggio have painted this symbolic scene from the deuterocanonical Book of Judith, where Judith seduces and beheads Holofernes, who was generally intent on destroying her city of Bethulia. Historic paintings of this biblical story are often read as a feminist victory, but Wiley's Judith fights a different battle.
In Wiley's "Holofernes head" we see a Karen, a Becky, humorously and quite viscerally exposing feminism's focus on white women, that often ignores racial disparities.  Throughout this historic 2020 election, we can't help but look back to 2016's election to remember the commitment that 94% black women made to vote against Trump, while 53% of white women voted for Trump (according  to York Times exit polls).  An even higher percentage of white women voted for Trump in 2020.  When a white woman acts against all women, does she not become a Holofernes, a "man" attempting to destroy Judith's people?  Amy Coney Barrett becomes our current symbol for a woman inserted by patriarchy to act against the interests of women, potentially dismantling Roe v. Wade, jeopardizing a woman's right to choose, in this country that was originally founded to separate church and state.
 Barbara Kruger
Your Body is A Battleground, 1989
Artwork on The Art Story
"Do you know why language manifests itself the way it does in my work? It's because I understand short attention spans" -Barbara Kruger
The Art Story includes choice artists' quotes at the top of each Artist's page.  This is such a valuable resource for art writers, educator's and curators, who want to get at the heart of the artist's intent.  Reading American Conceptual Artist Barbara Kruger's explanation of her graphic text-based works as geared to "short attention spans" in 1989 feels so contemporary. 
Barbara Kruger's bold works deploy her training as a graphic designer to create images and phrases that resonate, functioning both in public space and the contemporary art world. Best known for her silkscreen prints with captions over found photographs, she also creates site specific installations, video, and audio works. Her prints from the 1980s encapsulate "Reaganomics," including this Your Body is a Battleground screenprint defending women's reproductive rights, which was originally created for the March for Women's Lives, in Washington, D.C in 1989. This image, set in Kruger's signature palette of black, white and red, splits a woman's face in half.   Half photographic portrait, half x-ray, this powerful image references the constant probing and control of the female body in America.  
Echoing the words of Ruth Bader Ginsburg (1933- 2020), the United States Supreme Court justice who fought tirelessly for women's rights: "The State controlling a woman would mean denying her full autonomy and full equality."
 Ana Mendieta
Untitled (Siluetas Series), 1976
Artwork on The Art Story
Cuban artist Ana Mendieta is renowned for her contributions to the Body Art, Land Art, and Performance Art Movements.  On each Artist's page on The Art Story, there are links to every art movement associated with the artist, making it easy to find (and to dive into) connections.
Her powerful Silueta series contemplates the cycles of birth, life, and death through performing various ephemeral actions in natural environments. Mendieta ritualistically asserted her form in relation to the seascape in Untitled: Silueta Series, Mexico (1976/1991). The deep impression of her body in the sand is activated by red pigment, the blood, the body, the soul's imprint washed away by the ocean's waves.  The vulnerability of the body and of the natural environment are seamlessly interrogated here, evoking Paleolithic goddess power, a matrilineage dating back to the Venus of Willendorf circa 30,000 BCE as well as childlike fantasy mermaids and bloody snow angels.
Mendieta's Silueta series shares a feminist viewpoint on the environment that reverberates currently, with climate change affecting us globally. The Americas have been hit hard by fires, increasingly destructive hurricanes and global warming. According to Aaron Bernstein, Director of Center for Climate, Health and the Global Environment at Harvard University, climate change has caused habitat loss for animals, and germs and diseases are spreading as animals congregate more closely to each other and human-populated areas.  I ponder how Ana Mendieta would respond now to the coronavirus as part of her lexicon.

There is an art in everyone's life which you use to make yourself perfect

Ivy Summers was in the middle of speaking to an irate man in German who was trying to request an emergency passport since his had gotten lost while on vacation in the United States when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She hadn't imagined herself capable of working in a place as busy as the Belgian Embassy in Washington D.C. back when her telepathy was a problem but here she was.  
When Carson got offered a job at the Goddard Space Flight Center straight out of college she had wondered about what her job options would be as a linguist but that ended up not being a problem with how close their apartment in Maryland was to D.C., where her specialty was in high demand. He was currently working full-time as a computer engineer and simultaneously working on his master's degree by taking night classes because he needed one to qualify as an astronaut candidate.  
After all these years he still hadn't learned to slow down but he was handling it okay by only taking two or three classes per semester. It would make his degree take longer but he figured that was better than burning himself out completely. Especially once the twins were born.  
They were certainly a surprise! Ivy fell pregnant with them less than a year after they were married but she didn't regret how quickly it happened at all once she knew she didn't have to worry about any crazy powers manifesting.  
Sophie and Grace were the lights of her life. Grace's power hadn't been a problem at all; in fact, it was the exact opposite. Since she was born Carson had invented no less than a dozen devices he was able to sell the patents for.  
They were able to use some of that money to put a large down payment on their house. Moving out of the apartment was nice, especially once the twins started moving around a lot. Having a backyard with a play structure in it was a major plus.  
Ivy was perfectly satisfied with her life the way it was, even if it did mean dealing with unhappy people once in a while. Normally it wasn't so bad and she was able to keep up with her German, French, and occasionally Dutch.  
She hadn't been proficient in it before working here the way she was with the other two languages but she was getting better all the time. The one time she had to deal with a frustrated Dutch-speaker she ended up calling in a coworker who was more fluent.  
She had accomplished her goal of becoming a polyglot though. She was fluent in German, French, Spanish, Japanese, Portuguese, Italian, and obviously English. She knew at least some of a dozen other languages though.  
Since the twins were born there had been a lot less time to work on her language studies but her thirst for knowledge never changed. Carson supported her in it the same way she supported his dreams of being an astronaut..  
Ivy used to worry that the two of them wouldn't be able to get married because they had seemingly opposite goals but in the end that didn't matter. She may not work overseas but she was still able to take vacations and use what she had learned.  
They ended up going to Japan on their honeymoon and she had to handle asking all the questions because her new husband was hopeless when it came to Japanese. He wasn't bothered though and they had a wonderful time.  
She needed to stop thinking about all of this and focus on her conversation though or she would end up speaking in Japanese instead of German. That wouldn't be the first time it had happened at work.
All of her coworkers were amazed that she knew so many languages because most of them only spoke two or three. The majority of the people working here specialized in German or French.  
Ivy managed to muddle her way through the rest of her conversation and get the man where he needed to go. She heaved a sigh of relief once he left and slumped back in her desk chair.  
Being away from her babies was hard but to afford their house and Carson's tuition payments they both needed to work. Truthfully, she would probably go crazy being a stay-at-home mom anyway. Utilizing her skills kept her sharp.  
They didn't seem to mind being at daycare too much though since they both had plenty of friends there. She showered them with attention when she was home and so did their father, despite being home much less. Work and school wore him out but playing with the twins always seemed to help him recharge. That and watching anime after they went to bed.  
It had grown on her a lot after her time in Japan so this was something they did together while cuddling most nights. Having fun and doing other things together was saved for the weekends when they didn't work.  
Ivy managed to sneak a peek at her phone since nobody was coming by and wondered if the buzzing she felt earlier was Carson texting her on one of his breaks. To her great surprise, it was from Matthew Donohue.  
They had stayed sporadically in touch over the years so he could renew her doctor's notes allowing her to wear her mini EEG to school or work but hadn't been in contact since shortly after she started working here. She needed to prove she wasn't using some sort of illegal device considering working at embassies required some degree of security clearance.  
'Do you happen to have a spare miniature EEG on hand? Someone will be needing it next month'
She blinked at it in shock. Did Matthew happen to meet another telepath?! After all this time she was only aware of herself and Rosa Marquez.  
'Who?'
'I haven't actually met them. Are you aware of Crossbones, the superhero based in L.A.?' he asked.  
Who hadn't heard of Crossbones? He was a topic of popular discussion when they went home for Christmas. Ethan thought it was the coolest thing ever. (He hadn't grown up much.) She had briefly wondered if he was a telepath before dismissing it. He wouldn't be able to function in a big city so well even if his radius was small.  
'Yeah. Is he a telepath?'
'No. This isn't for him either; it's for a friend of his who has Perceptive Amnesia. That power makes people forget the user unless they are looking at them directly. Apparently it's been quite inconvenient for her'
Ivy frowned in confusion. If nobody could remember them how did Crossbones? That wasn't the most pressing question though.  
'You got in contact with Crossbones? How?' she asked curiously.  
'I may or may not have sent my sister on a reconnaissance mission to the general area I knew he was operating out of. She discovered he has a power we've never heard of before. Precognition. It's all rather exciting!!!'
Based on those exclamation points Matthew was thrilled. It made sense considering how much of a superpower junkie he was though. Good for him, she supposed.  
'Who is he?'
'Believe it or not, he's a rather well-known author. Nathan Grant. But you can't tell anyone aside from Carson'
Ivy nearly dropped her phone in shock. Nathan Grant?! She owned every one of his books! He was one of the best mystery writers she had ever been fortunate enough to encounter. With how many mystery novels she read she almost always guessed what was going to happen but she never did with his.  
Why on earth would someone as successful as him bother becoming a superhero? This was surreal. Nobody would ever believe that he was Crossbones…which probably worked in his favor.  
She didn't know anything about him despite following him on social media because he only ever talked about book releases. What kind of person would decide to do something so risky? For most of her life she had been terrified of being caught and locked up. Did he not worry about that at all?  
Precognition, huh? Wasn't that seeing into the future? How did that even work?  
Ivy's natural curiosity was eating at her again.  It had never caused anything but trouble though she supposed she also had it to thank for the life she had now. Without getting her radius expanded, she never would have been able to turn off her telepathy or become close with her husband.  
'I won't. I do want more details once you have them though. I've been a fan since his first book'  
'And the EEG?' Matthew prompted.  
Right. She had completely forgotten about that in her shock. 'All I have lying around are old models that don't work so well anymore and my current backup for emergencies. I can't give that away. I'll talk to Carson once he gets home tonight but there's no guarantee he'll have time to make one anytime soon'
It was still fairly early in the semester but he had a lot to do. He might be able to crank one out before midterms though. By now he could practically make one in his sleep.  


Superpowers are not all they are cracked up to be! Nathan Grant wanted nothing more than to live quietly after the tragedy his power caused when he was younger but fate has other plans for him, including meeting a mysterious woman named Sierra that no one can seem to remember...

*Set in the same universe as The Sound of Silence*

*Cover art by polkadottedscrunchie*



After the breakfast that honestly seemed to be six hours long, but it was actually only 45 minutes, we all went back to our rooms. 

The first thing I observed was the fact that somebody clearly entered there while I was in the great hall. That somebody taked the dirty clothes from the floor, maked the bed and left a little gift on it. It was a small basket with a cottage core oufit, composed from a long floral dress and a fancy top with the same pantern on it. On the clothes from the basket was a note. 

" By the hour of 2 PM come downstairs and I will be waiting for you there" the note said 

On it was also a signature with the initials A and P. So it could either be from the king, or either from the prince. 

I was really curious about the invitation. 

It was just 8AM but I started preparing myself, both fizically and psihically. 

I was questioning everything from what he wants from me to what he will wear. 

Mabye he will tell me my power. 

Mabye he will tell me about this place. 

Mabye he will tell me why I am here. 

Mabye. 

Just mabye. 

I could never be sure of what he will say. I actually wasn't even sure who will I meet with. I tried finding clues in the message but nothing could be hidden on a 16 word message containing only a time and place. Nothing was either hidden in the signature. It was all really questioning for me. I mean, how could it not be? 

At about 1:30 PM I started actually getting ready. In a short time that seemed 5 minutes, the 30 minutes passed. I hurried outside my room, holding the letter, in case somebody catches me. The castle seemed huge while I was in such a rush. What was he going to say when/if I am late? 

The clock seemed to move faster than usually while I was running trough the corridors. But this was just the definition of time; extremley fast when you are in a hurry, fast when you are happy, long when you are sad, extremely long when you are bored, and deadly when you are in pain. 

I could never say the exact way the time passes. 

I can only say that every second that passes is a lost second from our lifes 

Another second away from birth. 

Another second away from childhood. 

Another second closer to aging. 

Another second closer to death. 

It might seem to be just a second, but each and every second is as precious as 1kg of gold. Of course, time can't be compared to richness. Time can save anything. I only realized this after I read Momo by Michael Ende¹ where the "gray people" stealed people's time. Time is more precious than anything. 

I went kind of off the subject, didn't I? 

Well, let's get back to our story... 

Later. 

¹Michael Ende (1929-1995) is one of the most popular German writers of kids literature. Is known for his novels "Momo" (1973-1974) "Ein Labyrinth" (1984) "Die unedliche geschichte" (1979)

Meanwhile, Fang began the pre-cooking process, began to wash vegetables from the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of rice wine. But Baraz was immediately stopped, he said that in the culture of Small-An, it is not customary to drink wine or any alcohol. So, if Fang wants to share his dish with them, they will not be able to eat it. Because
it will be considered a sin.

Fang stopped for a minute. Froze. Then he slapped himself on the forehead "how did I forget it, dumbhead, good !, Pigotovim another dish is not braised beef with rice wine, but a new experimental dish! A real cook must be able to introduce changes in his food, experiment, it's interesting! Ahhahahahhahaha "!

Baraz, squinted at Fang, well what to say, well done, that he managed so beautifully howl from a difficult situation.

In principle, Fang was grateful to the Dara family, at one point 10 years ago, when an epidemic occurred in Chengdu, his entire family of 25 relatives close to him lived at home with Dara's relatives. They were treated as dear guests. Then, Dara often ate desserts that Grandma Fanga prepared desserts, all sorts of interesting combinations of sweets.

And so Fang wanted to cook beef stew in rice wine. The recipe was simple, it required beef pulp, a bowl of rice wine, carrots, onions, a little flour, butter, garlic. Soy sauce, Sichuan pepper, salt.

The vegetables had to be cut into strips, the beef meat was washed, dried, and we note cut into small pieces.

Didn't Dok have a wok? !!! So Fang had to be content with a frying pan, a well-known Turkish firm Kurkmas, a steel pan that is better than a German one!
 
And oil is not necessary! You can add some water, a super pan! Knowhow! But butter needs a dish for the sauce, so Fang added the butter, laid the meat, sprinkled it with flour. When the meat is covered with a delicious ruddy crust, the meat is pulled out. In the remaining sauce, Fang roundly added a little more butter, laid out the vegetables, sprinkled with flour, fried for several minutes. Instead of wine, Fang poured soy sauce into the mixture and mixed everything well. In the resulting sauce with stewed vegetables, Fang added meat. He closed the lid and left languishing under it over a shallow fire, for about one hour. As an additional side dish to the dish, Fang served steamed asparagus, artichokes, and petiole celery.

The recipe was simple, but at the same time original. Although certainly not completely authentic, since the products and water, the air was not from Chengdu. As well as the dishes, instead of the wok and its cooking technology, there was a replacement in the form of a steel pan. From this, the taste of the dish has changed somewhat.

But Shir Ali, who was watching this, came up with some useful ideas. Combinations of vegetables, meat, and flour.

In fact, it was like the author of the original book and the pioneer in another language. Both creators, both brilliant people and both are writers. The first who wrote the novel itself and the second who translated it. In fact, a translated novel is a new book, based on the original. Since the translator needs to select the appropriate idioms in another language. Describe the world with the condition of the mentality and worldview of another culture, so that it is understandable and clear.

So Shir Ali caught new tricks and cooking methods and Fang.

But Fang did not stop there, he wanted to cook as usual in Small-An, three or four dishes. In Small-Ahn, traditions changed somewhat after the advent and departure of the second empire.

Earlier in Small An, they ate only the first, which could be the second, and then drank green tea with dried fruits, boiled juice of vegetables or berries, fruits with nan or roti, sometimes adding nuts or amber sugar. In the summer they ate fruit with nan.

And after the advent of the second empire, the first dishes appeared - usually soups, the second dishes - meat. the third "transitional" dishes - entreme ((from the French. entre - between and Mets - food, dish). Dishes served between main courses, main courses or before dessert) - usually these were cakes or cheeses. And then the crown dessert - compote and pie with pastry or cheesecakes, such pastry pies with cottage cheese.

Fang actually made the second dish and he had to do the first one, entreme and dessert.

The second version. 

Agriculture is a very interesting activity. Like the sale of products. Not to mention the cooking, healing cooking. The development of tourism. 


All this will be in this novel. Perhaps the continuation of the first novel, but not a fact.

What is the story about? The story of a graduate student who decided to become a farmer. He sold his apartment and started to run his business with the money he received. Farm, online shop, farm shop. Decided to sell organic food.

Who is this guy? Former student of the Faculty of History. His relatives are historians and artisans, scientists. Great-grandfather Farmer. Grandfather - oriental sweets manufacturer. His ancestor ... Dara is the hero of another novel "'Jiang' Magic Coin" ...

What happens to him? He finds magic coins that have already become a magic entity, he has an all-powerful system. The main character does not immediately use it ...

Why should I care? It is interesting. But not at once. Not from the first pages, there is interesting historical information, there is an understanding of everyday life, traditions, oriental subtleties of doing business.

Almost reality but in a fantastic wrapper.

Pros - good content, many different historical facts about the Silk Road, Eastern Trade, Household reflections on politics and economics, there are interesting ideas for organizing your own business in tourism and farming.

Cons - bad form, that is, the text of the novel is rough, grammar and syntax is lame. There are mistakes.

Overall assessment of the story if to be objective:

Writing Quality - 2 stars
Stability of Updates - 4 stars (3-4 times per week from 500 to 3000 words for one chapter)

Story Development - 4 stars
Character Design - 3 stars
World Background - 3 stars

Overall result: Who wants to learn new things about farming and about the world after the Cold War, who is interested in the first place content, can be sure that he/she will not waste his/her time in vain.

Whoever likes the good form of the syllable, he/she can immediately leave, having pulled his hat, striking his/her horse sideways with spurs, plunge into the depths of the prairie.


Tags - Farming, Cooking, Health, Folk Medicine, Magic, History


-----------------------------
This is a work of art. Any resemblance to real people or real events is purely coincidental.

Translated by: ShawnSuh
Edited by: SootyOwl

Before returning home, Juho decided to make a brief visit to the bookstore. There was something he needed to buy.

On his way to a bookstore nearby, a foreigner caught Juho's eyes. Her antsy behavior made it obvious that she was lost. Whenever she tried to reach out to talk to someone, people would walk away in a hurry. If things had been anything like how they used to be, Juho probably would have done the same.

However, with the language acquisition device in his head, Juho was now able to face that foreigner's language with confidence.  

"Do you need help?" he asked the foreigner in English.

Her eyes sparkled upon hearing her native tongue, and the foreigner answered back in English, "Yes, please! I'm looking for a lodging location named 'Arabia,' but I have no clue on how to get there."

"Hm, one moment."

Juho had never heard of the place. After a brief moment thinking, he lead the foreigner into a nearby real estate office. A drowsy employee jumped out of his seat at their presence. 

"Could you give me directions to a lodging location named 'Arabia?'" 

"Ah, yes! One moment."

The employee searched for something in a hurry. Upon finding the place, he pointed to the location using a map on the wall. Juho translated simultaneously as the employee explained how the place could be reached and felt the employee staring at him in amazement. 

"Oh, I know this place. It was across that one grocery store. I've been walking around this area in a circle."

The foreigner smiled brightly. She must have been scared of getting lost in a foreign country. 

"Have a great trip!"

"Oh, thank you so much! This is why I can't stop travelling even though I get lost every time." 

Saying that a helper could always be found, she went on her way after thanking Juho. He waved as she turned around. The brief relationship had come to an end, and Juho too made his way back to the bookstore.

The large bookstore was booming with people. He walked past the long line of people waiting for their turn at the cashier. 'The Trace of a Bird' was on display on the first rack that crossed Juho's eyes. People standing in front of the rack were examining the book. After watching them briefly, Juho turned back. 

It had been a while since he had been to a bookstore. Wanting to peruse, Juho walked over to the literature section. The books were divided by the authors' names, and they were all famous writers.

As he scanned through the books, Juho stopped in front of one author's name, Dong Gil Uhm. Right next to it was another author named Seo Joong Ahn. The bookstore might have placed them very close to each other deliberately. 

Those two authors were a renowned duo in the literature world.

Their history went back to their birth. They were born two months apart in the same neighborhood and went to the same school throughout elementary, middle school, and high school. Dong Gil Uhm had revealed in his essay that he and his friend Seo Joong Ahn had been in the same class six times in the past. 

Their path seemed to finally split in their college years, but Seo Joong Ahn ended up getting thrown out of his dorm. In the end, he stayed at Dong Gil Uhm's house through university. 

Now, those two friends were working in the same field as authors. Both had become successful in their profession, and their friendship was truly inseparable. 

Juho had read a novel that had been co-written by the two authors. It had been a popular read then, and that had been rightfully so. Juho had enjoyed it a lot. Written by two, polar-opposite people, that book had brought about a sensation that was both hot and cold.

"Dong Gil Uhm."

Juho had read his work quite a bit when he had been older. Most of his books were based on true events, and his expressions, too, were realistic. His satire was honest, cold, and sharp. His style was both concise and masculine. Once in an interview, Dong Gil Uhm had revealed that he looked up to Ernest Hemingway. 

Juho picked up a book and felt the coolness of the cover. The book was named 'Genius.' Though he had planned on looking at it briefly at first, he ended up buying the book out of impulse.

He walked into the specialized section. On the floor, there was a person sitting down, reading. Juho walked past his legs and kept on walking. The shelves were divided into categories. After scanning through them one by one, he eventually found the words he had been looking for: original language.

There was no one around. Because it was in the inner part of a section, the original language shelf was shaded by the surrounding shelves. The books were in various languages, and the section gave off a secretive vibe. Perhaps, it had something to do with the shelf being in the shade.

English, Chinese, Japanese, French, Spanish, German, Latin, Russian, Finnish… These books were written in a wide variety of languages. Some were written in languages that weren't as well known, like Welsh, Scandinavian, Gothic, and Lombardian. Juho had the urge to buy each and every one, but he had made up his mind to limit himself to three books. 

After some contemplation, he picked up a book written in Japanese. There were adorable characters on its red cover. Thanks to that book, the secretive vibe of the section vanished completely. 

In the first page, there were Katakana and Hiragana. 

'Click.'

There was a sound in Juho's head as soon as he began reading the book. It was the sound of a button being pushed.

The device began to work. The next page, and then another page. The pace of the turning pages was picking up, and Juho's device was acquiring the universal grammar of the Japanese language.

"Hello. Nice to meet you. Did you eat? Waste of resources. Destruction of the environment. What is your opinion? What day is it today? It's a holiday. It's snowing out. Clear skies. Have a seat. Should we have a drink? I'm in a good mood. Thank you."

As Juho murmured random phrases in Japanese, the man reading on the floor glimpsed over at him. Ignoring him, Juho engulfed himself in the fascinating sensation in his head. 

It was like smelling with his nose.

The language acquisition device detected the scent of a language. It was a natural process. 

Juho pulled out another book from the shelf. German. The book had been written specifically for travellers, 'Guten Tag.' From basic greetings to flight, lodging, restaurants, shopping, transportation, phone and emergencies, the book was organized into categories. 

'Click.'

There was that sound again. Juho tried to focus his attention at his head. It somewhat felt like there was heat radiating from his temple. 

After reading through several books, Juho picked up three of them. They were in German, French, and Spanish. He planned on learning as many other languages as he could.

The cashier was quiet, and Juho paid for his books without much trouble. 

*

"Mr. James. I'm here to get your stuff."

Juho went into the English class. It was a class being taught by James, the native English instructor. Since the centipede incident, Juho had started talking to James frequently. After discovering, in the process, that Juho was extremely interested in the English language, James told him that he would provide him with resources on Medieval and Old English, and Juho gladly accepted his offer. 

"Give me a moment. I'm in the middle of transferring the data. It's almost done," James answered him in a natural English. He was already aware of Juho's level of skill. 

In response, Juho replied in English, "Sure. Do you think I'll be able to pick it up before club activities?"

"Of course! Here, done!"

He handed back the flash drive he had borrowed from Juho. In the flash drive, Juho would probably find the history of the English language that James had studied as a student. He picked it up with a grateful heart.

"If you get stuck, come find me. I did put in some notes, but it's still not an easy read."

"Great, thank you!"

"You don't have to thank me. Now, I feel like an actual a teacher. Dealing with drowsy students is so boring that it makes me yawn," James said as he pretended to yawn. 

It was an exaggerated gesture, but Juho saw a resemblance with someone in his struggle of developing an affection for school life, "Are you close with Mr. Moon by any chance?"

"He helped me out a few times when I was studying Korean. We ate together too. The pork belly was delicious." 

It was slightly amusing to picture the two grilling together. James lowered his voice and asked Juho discreetly, "Did you know that Mr. Moon hates boiled carrots? I saw him separating them from his food and setting them aside."

"Boiled Carrots."

He hadn't seemed like a picky eater. That was unexpected. 

"I made fun of his appetite, and he got angry, asking where I had learned to say things like that. Thanks to him, I learned a new verb in Korean."

'What an amazing teacher.' As James was about to continue, the door opened. Juho turned around and saw Mr. Moon standing with a stack of printer paper. 'I guess he's not all that gentlemanly-like afterall,' he thought. 

"Hi."

"Mr. Moon, why come here?" following Juho's greeting, James asked Mr.Moon with his slightly awkward Korean pronunciation. 

After looking at the two, one after the other, he waved the stack of papers in his hand.

"The printer in the staffroom isn't working, so that's why I'm here. What are you doing here, Juho? Isn't it time for club activities?" 

"I'm here to learn English."

"I don't recall you being so diligent. You never came to me, and I never saw you in the staffroom."

There he went again with his blunt remarks. 

"I'm interested in the English language."

Mr. Moon seemed to be surprised by Juho's answer. At that moment, James spoke up, "Juho is a hard-working student. He's highly skilled in the language. He has a deep understanding of the English language. He speaks with me mostly in English."

"Is that so? I had no idea. What do you guys talk about usually?"

"There's really no preference from our daily lives to current events. At times, we talk about the centipede that we let go out into the backyard. He's very fun to be around." 

Mr. Moon said as he rubbed his chin, "Then I must've heard it right when I heard my name come up." 

"Hm. Um. Mr. Moon's words. I don't understand. What?" James was at loss of words. It was one of those moments when his Korean was put to to the test. 

Juho decided to leave the room to not be a hindrance between the two. As he attempted to sneak out, Mr.Moon caught him like a hawk and said, "You were on your way to the science room, weren't you? Let's go together."

"Yes, Mr. Moon."

Until Mr.Moon finished with his business, Juho kept fiddling with his flash drive in his pocket. As Mr. Moon and Juho went on their way, James said brightly, "Come again." 

"Take care." 

After nodding lightly, the two went out to the hallway. 

It was quiet. The students had already gone into their respective classrooms. Juho had lost track of time talking to James. If Mr. Moon hadn't shown up, he would've been late. 'I should be careful from now on,' thought Juho.

While walking quietly, Mr. Moon spoke up, "I read your paper. There was a lot of character and personality in the end." 

"Was there?" Juho answered as if he didn't know. 

"You must have experience writing."

"Pardon me?"

"There's stability in your sentences. There's no awkwardness, especially in longer sentences. That's impossible to accomplish unless you're an experienced writer. Well, I suppose it could be possible for a prodigy."

Juho hesitated. 

<Language Acquisition Device> The End

Yum Woo is the youngest author in history to enter the literature world. His debut work was a massive hit but this success was short lived for the unprepared.

A miraculous second chance comes his way one day.

This is the beginning of that journey.



"Love your enemies, for they will tell you all your faults." ~ Benjamin Franklin
"You are not working as hard as you should be doing, you faggot." Garreth whisper yelled.
"I didn't bring you all the way from London for you to sit in your hotel all day and tell me shitty stories." He continued, he looked beyond upset.
"I am trying my best-"
"Your best isn't good enough, just do what you have to do, I wouldn't like sending your father a box of your remains." Garreth lit a cigar facing putting his left arm on the silver railing of the balcony.
"I'm warning you and I don't like warning people. Just talk about Mr Darcy or Romeo and Juliette or whatever you writers talk about, Yes?" He said in a calmer voice.
"Yes, Mr. McCarthy." The young man faltered.
"Good." He said with that ending the call.
Garreth was beyond angry and whenever he got he broke things but he had been seeing a therapist after meeting with Della. He had lied a bit about how the divorce had occurred, he used to beat his wife to a pulp. He blamed her for not being able to produce. Garreth called her so many names, he felt that she was able to produce for her first husband now she couldn't do anything for him. He called her useless every second of the day until he learned that he was the problem, he couldn't have children. That broke him, he wanted a family so bad. His parents had shipped him off to the USA at the age of thirteen years old after the deed he had left in England. He changed his name and all the necessary things that needed to be done, it was after all better than Juvenile. He later returned back to England at the age of nineteen, things had calmed down, he was grown up. He had changed his name and no one seemed to recognize him.
"McCarthy-" Spencer said breaking the silence.
"This better be good." Garreth replied turning around to face his right hand man, Spencer Hurst. Spencer had been the one who handled all of the underground businesses while Garreth dressed like a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"We found him, should we finish him off or you would like to have the honor? he is at the warehouse with the other men." Spencer let out. Out of all the people Garreth had in his life, Spencer was the only person he could call a friend. He knew his past, he knew him for who he was and still stood by him or maybe it's the money and the life he provided. His worst fear was Della finding out who he really was-
Adela wasn't fit to take over his heir, in fact he would only allow her to take over the clean legit businesses. She was a nice sweet girl, he loved her way too much to put her in danger. Leondre on the other hand, Garreth had his eyes on the little boy. He was smart and fast for his age, that's what his mafia needed, a Don like Leondre McCarthy. He was glad when Adela had told him that she didn't change his last name to Levetté. As soon as Leo turned Eighteen, he would receive his inheritance from the Mafia counsel and Spencer would slowly start explaining to him how things worked from the age sixteen. The only way Della would take over is if she married another Mafia's son, there were so many options, he had thought about it for a while now.
There was Alfredo Molinero the son of the biggest mafia?bosses?in?Mexico. There was Lucio Bongiorni from?Italian?Mafia, also Kay Schürmann from German Mafia, as well as Hoashi Kakichi from the Japanese Mafia, also Oskar Borgstr?m?from?the Swedish Mafia, also Féng Shen from the Chinese mafia. He had been Enemies with the Chinese for a while now?so that?would be so good but an alliance was good. Feng was just a hot headed faggot, he?wouldn't?let?his?daughter marry that?English?none speaking idiot. Nicholas Passos of the Portuguese mafia. Nikita Shatov of the Russian mafia.
These were all good options and he would invite them soon very soon to a gala he would be holding so which ever one of them who gets to woo her off her feet and make her happy would win an alliance with his English Mafia, whenever an alliance was formed between two mafia groups, they become initially indestructible.?What he?didn't?want was Andre?Levetté...
"Kill him yourself, I have a gala to plan don't forget to one of his fingers to his family... I'm sure they would love to know where their son disappeared to before we give them the rest of the body." Garreth smiled cynically.
"Of course, McCarthy." Spencer smirked. "You know calling all these Mafia bosses to be in one city will cause Chaos. I just got new that the Russians are fighting with the Swedish, The Portuguese are at war with the Germans-"
"My daughter is beautiful enough to have them all fall at her feet. Trust me, they will put their issues aside if they want to win her over." Garreth sighed. "Now run along, you have some snapping of fingers to do."
"I would love to marry your daughter, she is beautiful and-" Spencer was cut off.
"You have got to be bloody kidding me, Spence-" Garreth laughed but it soon died out when he realised that he was serious.
"You-" Garreth stood there shook.
"Just give me as much of a try, just like you would to the other Mafia Don's and Capos." Spencer said in a serious tone. "I know your business in and out and you trust me with your life, I don't think there could be anyone better at this than me." He retorted.
"You are a Murder Spence-"
"Ain't they all murders too, at least give your daughter to a murder you are well aware of." Spencer had a valid point.
"I will let you compete with the other mafias, whoever wins her heart first, I have no say unless it's that Andre then I will kill him with no hesitation."
"Gladly, now if you will excuse me-" Spencer said leaving the balcony.”



One day she had been moaning and squirming under her husbands chest as he made love to her every chance he got. The next thing he was telling her that he didn't love her. The press wrote all sorts of stories about how she cheated with Andre's business partners. Jeanine (Andre's mother) had thrown her out like a dog. It all seemed like a life time ago but she learnt to forgive and move on. She didn't have any grudge against them. Everything happened for a reason and maybe this was her fate. She just wanted to give her son the best life she could possible.

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