Chapter 233: [233] "HOUSE 2 PART 2"

The foyer was vast, but unlike the sterile marble of Fontaine’s house, this space felt a bit more grounded. The floors were laid with wide planks of dark hardwood.

A grand staircase curved upward toward the second floor, the banister carved from solid mahogany. The walls were painted a muted cream, accented by dark wood.

"The ground floor features a traditional layout," the agent explained, gesturing to the right. "We have the formal dining room, the primary living space, and a dedicated library or study."

Hugo walked into the center of the foyer. He didn’t look at the craftsmanship of the banister or the antique chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He looked at the floor plan of the space instead.

"The spaces are highly compartmentalized," Hugo observed. "There is no direct line of sight between the primary living area and the kitchen."

"That is correct," the agent nodded, closing the front door. "It is a classic style. It separates the preparation of meals from the areas of entertainment and relaxation. It provides distinct, dedicated zones for different activities."

Luc walked toward the room on the right, stepping through a wide archway into the formal dining room.

The room was massive.

A long wooden table sat in the center, easily capable of seating fourteen people. A crystal chandelier hung above it, and a massive stone fireplace dominated the far wall.

"This is big," Luc noted, running a hand along the polished surface of the table. "You could host the entire starting eleven in here, Hugo."

Hugo stepped into the room, his eyes scanning the area. He did not look impressed though.

Hugo stated flatly. "I eat at the kitchen island while reviewing match data. A formal dining space of this magnitude is not really useful to me."

The agent blinked, taking a moment to process that. "Well, many clients choose to convert this space. It could serve as a secondary lounge, or perhaps a trophy room."

"Nah, no need," Hugo replied.

They moved across the foyer into the library.

The room was stunning. Bookshelves for days, constructed from dark cherry wood lined three of the walls. A rollin ladder was attached to a rail, allowing access to the highest shelves. Two massive armchairs sat in front of another stone fireplace.

Luc stood by the door, crossing his arms. "I have to admit, this looks like the kind of room a guy sits in to play chess or some other fancy shit."

Hugo walked to the center of the library. He looked at the empty shelves, then looked at the agent.

"The accumulation of dust in this specific room will be exponential," Hugo analyzed. "The natural light is severely restricted by the foliage outside the windows, rendering the space bad for daytime reading without artificial illumination."

"The lighting can certainly be upgraded," the agent offered smoothly, attempting to pivot. "And a weekly cleaning service would easily manage the maintenance."

"It is unnecessary yet again," Hugo concluded, turning his back on the library. "It requires too much maintenance."

Luc hid a smirk behind his hand. The kid was dismantling a multi-million-euro historical estate with the same logic he used to dismantle opposition midfields.

They proceeded into the second kitchen located at the rear of the house.

The space was expansive, featuring terracotta tile flooring, a massive porcelain farmhouse sink, and custom cabinetry. A butcher-block island dominated the center of the room. It was rustic, and incredibly traditional.

Hugo stopped at the threshold. He looked at the placement of the refrigerator, the stove, and the sink.

"The working triangle is not good," Hugo pointed out immediately. "The distance between the storage and the cooking surface is obstructed by the corner of the island. Workflow won’t be good."

The agent looked down at his folder. "It is a chef’s kitchen, Monsieur Blanc. It wasn’t designed for a family that enjoys cooking together."

"I live alone, not with any family," Hugo countered.

Luc walked over to the back door, opening it and stepping out onto the rear patio. "Let’s take a look outside before you start finding more flaws."

Hugo followed him out, the agent trailing closely behind.

If the interior of the house was massive, the exterior grounds were staggering.

The patio gave way to a vast expanse of green grass. The lawn stretched out for over two acres, perfectly manicured and bordered by a high stone wall that completely enclosed the property.

Massive trees dotted the perimeter, providing total privacy from any neighboring estates.

It was like a private park.

The agent stepped forward, finally finding a feature he was confident would appeal to a professional athlete.

"The grounds are fully secured," the agent announced, sweeping his arm across the vista. "The wall is eight feet high, topped with discreet security wiring. No one can see in, and no one can access the lawn without coming through the main gate. It is total privacy."

Luc walked down the steps, his boots sinking slightly into the thick but soft grass. He looked across the massive lawn.

"This is some serious space," Luc noted, turning to look at Hugo. "You could literally put a full-sized kids pitch back here. You could set up goals. You could run drills on your days off without having to go to the complex."

The agent nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly. Many of our high-profile athletic clients seek properties with this kind of acreage for exactly that purpose. It offers a private training sanctuary."

Hugo walked down the steps, standing next to Luc on the edge of the patio. The kid stared out at the sprawling, two-acre sea of green grass. He did not look inspired, rather he looked deeply exhausted by the concept.

Hugo turned his head, looking at the agent.

"I spend five or six days a week on a football pitch man," Hugo stated, his voice carrying a certain tired weight to it. "I run on it. I get tackled on it. I sweat on it. I endure tactical lectures on it."

The agent’s enthusiastic smile began to falter.