Chapter 336: The Man Who Makes Watches
Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.
On the road in front of the Premium Inn London Angel Islington Hotel, where Lynn was staying.
A man clutching a small ck box the size of his palm was running frantically.
People walking on the road dodged out of the way, and cars, forced by the man''s disregard for the traffic lights, mmed on their brakes and cursed.
Screech!!
"Hey!! Want to die?"
"Sorry! So sorry!"
Half-apologizing, the man didn’t stop running. The short, ck-haired man was ck, and quite handsome.
Wearing a beige coat, a white shirt, and ck cks, his name was Arthur Hodgson. He was a clock expert, one year post-graduation from Birmingham City University with a BA in Horology.Without pausing, Arthur could see Emirates Stadium in the distance.
"I must! I must deliver this!"
Running, Arthur recalled his past.
Born in Ambleside in the Lake District, known for its 16kes in Ennd, Arthur was an only child who was adored by his parents. Though not a wealthy family, he grew up robustly in a lovely home environment with great parents and beautiful scenery. From a young age, Arthur developed an interest in the sounds of an old grandfather clock in the living room.
Sitting all day by the grandfather clock, watching the pendulum swing with a nk stare, his worried parents drove him to London to see a doctor. However, the doctor said there was nothing wrong and it was just a temporary phenomenon of childhood.
Back home, the child sat again in front of the grandfather clock, listening attentively to various clock sounds.
When he was about four years old, he remembered a woman he met in the forest behind his house.
It was an ordinary day. As there were no homes with children his age within a 10 km radius, Arthur was used to ying alone, catching fish in theke or insects on the hill behind his house.
One day, after eating a walnut pie his mother had made and wiping the crumbs off his lips, Arthur climbed the hill and dug in the sand.
Rather than building sandcastles, he buried his legs up to his knees in the sand and shook his body, a game he enjoyed. Then, a woman appeared before him.
The woman who appeared before Arthur was hundreds of times more beautiful than any pretty sister he had seen in London hospitals or elsewhere.
Arthur, mistaking the light behind her head for halo, rubbed his eyes several times and asked in a tender voice.
"Who are you?"
The blonde woman in a long white dress that reached her ankles swept her wavy hair back and approached, stroking Arthur''s small, dark head buried up to his knees in the ground.
Looking up at her with round, cute eyes, Arthur smiled as he enjoyed the touch of the pretty sister, prompting her to smile slightly.
"There''s rhythm in your heart," she said.
Not understanding her, Arthur looked up nkly as she gently smiled and ced her hand on his chest.
"Do you feel it?"
After feeling his heartbeat through her hand, Arthur nodded, and she smiled brightly.
Herughter seemed to brighten the world, and involuntarily, Arthur reached out his hand towards her pale face. As his hand was about to touch her face, the woman stood up and turned away.
"The rhythm in your heart will now be heard by your ears," she said.
And then she disappeared. From that day on, Arthur began to hear all kinds of sounds. However, it was not painful.
The sounds he heard were not noises but had a regr rhythm, like the sound of a clock, the direction indicators on cars, or the sound of his mother chopping vegetables on the cutting board.
Since the irregr sound of insects did not bother him, Arthur grew up without any problems.
During high school, a teacher who saw him sitting in the cafeteria, tapping the table in time with his wristwatch, introduced him to the world of horology.
This new field of studypletely absorbed Arthur, showing his genius in it.
Eventually, rmended by his principal, Arthur was admitted to the prestigious Birmingham City University, where he dedicated six years to studying to be a master clockmaker. And a year after his graduation, unlike other friends who got jobs atpanies making aviation clocks or luxury watches, Arthur was different. His dream was to create his own brand and be sessful.
However, no individual orpany was willing to invest in him just after his graduation. Returning to his family''s farmhouse in Ambleside, Arthur set up a workshop in the basement and began making clocks by hand.
He spent five months creating a clock that did not deviate by even a second in over 30 days, even whenpared to an atomic clock. With thepleted clock, Arthur returned to London.
He met with investors and businessmen, but the answer was always a rejection. The reasons were that his design wasn
''t trendy, and his craftsmanship could be replicated by machines, hence there was little customer need for a handmade clock.
After meeting with more than twenty investors and still failing to secure investment, Arthur thought of onest idea. It was to put his handmade clock on the wrist of Kay, who was visiting Ennd to watch an Arsenal game.
Though younger and still a student, Kay was already a global superstar. Arthur believed that once his clock was on Kay''s wrist, the world would recognize its value. With this thought, he didn''t hesitate and ran out of his hotel room, clutching the clock.
Despite the bitter winter wind, Arthur was soaked with sweat by the time he reached Emirates Stadium. As he pushed through the crowd exiting the stadium, he spotted Geon emerging, surrounded by a host of bodyguards and also saw Shizuka Miyawaki and Kevin among the crowd. Driven by urgency, Arthur pushed through the people, trying to get closer, but was blocked by a bodyguard.
"Kay! Kay!!! Just a moment!"
He shouted at the top of his lungs, but his voice seemed to reach nowhere amid the cheers of thousands of fans. Gathering his strength, he raised the ck box high.
"Kay! Here, a gift! Please take it!"
His voice was drowned out by the shrieking of female fans, leaving Arthur with nothing to do but look desperately at Geon.
A tall, burly man with an East Asian appearance appeared in front of Arthur, who was blocked by a bodyguard while holding out the ck box. The man grabbed the box.
"Gasp! This, this is a gift for Kay! Please let go!"
Arthur tried to resist, but the burly man snatched the box from him, and Arthur copsed to the ground.
"Please return it...... that''s not right......"
The burly man grinned, showing his teeth.
"I''m Lee Byung-jun, Kay''s manager. I''ll check the gift and deliver it to Kay, so don''t worry."
Only then did Arthur realize that the man was inside the line formed by the bodyguards. Arthur quickly stood up and shouted.
"Th, thank you! My business card is inside, please make sure to deliver it, I''ll be waiting for your call!"
Many people gave their phone numbers iming to be fans, so Byung-jun scoffed and nodded as if to acknowledge, then shook the box and disappeared.
Shortly after, Geon and his entourage got into a limousine provided by the club and left, dispersing the crowd. Arthur stood alone, looking in the direction the car had disappeared.
"It might be myst chance...... please......"
Arthur stood for a long while, unable to move his feet, watching the road where Geon''s car had vanished. Still excited, Kevin in the car pped the car seat and shouted.
"Woah!! What a legendary game that was! Right, Kay?"
Geon smiled and replied.
"Yeah! It was fun! How about you, Shizuka?"
Shizuka sped her hands and said.
"I never knew a ser game could be so exciting. I think I''ll start taking an interest in ser."
Kevin, satisfied, looked at Shizuka.
"Great, Shizuka. Kay and I sometimes buy PPV ser games to watch, you should join us!"
"Sure! I''d love to, hehe."
The three chattered happily as Byung-jun, sitting in the passenger seat, shook the ck box, trying to guess if its contents were harmless. He then opened the box.
"What''s this? Such a clunky watch?"
Byung-jun''s eyes caught a watch wrapped in oil paper, featuring a ck leather strap and a golden rim in an old-fashioned design. Beside the watchy a business card and a letter folded thrice. Holding the watch, Byung-jun frowned.
"Did his grandfather hand down this watch or something? What''s with this design, it looks like something from a 1960s movie."
Holding the business card next to the watch, Byung-jun squinted.
"The Lake…… Arthur Hodgson? Was there ever a brand called ''The Lake''?"
After putting the business card back in the box, Byung-jun read the letter, chuckled, and refolded it back into the box.
"Man, trying to advertise for free? Didn''t seem like it, but what a thieving nature."
Examining the old-fashioned design of the watch, Byung-jun put it back into the ck box and tossed it onto the glove box.
"Even my grandfather wouldn''t wear this. Really, if this is what they call design."
The ck box rattled around on the glove box as the car turned corners, but Byung-jun, having drunk beer, fell asleep and did not wake up until they arrived at Alisher Usmanov''s mansion.
A line of about twenty maids rushed to greet the entourage and carry their luggage into
the mansion, causing Byung-jun to forget about the ck box he had left in the car.
Once everyone had entered the mansion, the chauffeur, ensuring there was no luggage left behind, noticed the ck box on the glove box.
Opening the box and seeing its contents, the chauffeur licked his lips, took the ck box, parked the car, and entered the mansion.
In the mansion''s reception room, Alisher Usmanov greeted the entourage with open arms and a broad smile.
"Ha-ha-ha! Thank you all for your hard work today. Especially you, Kay."
Geon handed his coat to a maid reaching out to him and smiled.
"Ha-ha, it''s all thanks to Mr. Alisher Usmanov''s trust in me."
Alisher Usmanov pped his hands towards the dining room.
"On such a joyful day, we must toast. Let''s all head to the dining room! I''ve prepared a party."
Kevin raised his fist and stood up energetically.
"Oh yes!! A day like this calls for a drink!"
Byung-jun, still flushed, was the first to dash to the dining room, with Kevin and Shizuka also heading to the dining room with excited faces.
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