Can Murder Be a Workplace Accident? Chapter 3.6

“Demand the settlement money from that guy yourself, Mr. Owner.”

He knelt on one knee, patted Bae Taemin’s shoulder, and whispered. Bae Taemin couldn’t say a word and just nodded his head desperately. Chef Choi, who stood up with a refreshed look on his face, even hummed a tune as he walked straight out of the private room.

“Just you wait…”

Bae Taemin lifted his head. His face was contorted with anger. He mumbled curses, blinking back tears from the irritation, fury, and pain.

“Hmm…”

Namgung Tree stared intently at his face.

“Damn it.”

His lower body remained quiet.

All he felt looking at Bae Taemin’s face was that he was a person in pain from being hit, that was all.

A headache started.

“That was quite a show.”

He got up from his seat. To get back in time for the start of the afternoon work hours, he had to leave now.

“Hey. …What about the settlement money?”

“I’ll give you a friends and family discount on the paintings.”

Putting the wallet with the black card into the inner pocket of his jacket, Namgung Tree patted his chest and smiled faintly.

He had no intention of giving him actual cash from the start anyway. Settlement money? What a waste of money. Now that he had found an unwanted answer to life’s biggest problem, he felt less bad if he at least saved some money.

“Nouveau riche bastard…”

“That’s not something I want to hear from someone who starved me of my lunch. We’ll discuss the details later by email. Well then, I’m really going!”

Namgung Tree left the French bistro, seen off by a reluctant server. The sunlight, now turning to autumn, was very harsh, and he frowned the whole way.

As soon as he returned to Gallery Spring, Namgung Tree looked for Min Isak first.

He had a personality that couldn’t stand awkward things.

Either get rid of it or embrace it.

He had to choose one of the two and move on to the next step. But when it came to Min Isak, he couldn’t decide easily.

“Chief Min. It’s me, the director.”

-Mr. Director? This is Baek Girim. You’ve called the wrong number.

“Ms. Baek? I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number. The numbers are similar.”

Despite having deliberately dialed the extension for Baek Girim, who sat in front of Min Isak, Namgung Tree feigned innocence as if his finger had slipped. Over the receiver, he could hear her say, ‘It happens,’ and laugh awkwardly.

Work was piling up, and seeing his face was unbearably awkward. Talking to him directly was the same.

-The Chief is at his desk right now, shall I transfer the call?

“That’s alright. …It’s not a long message, so why bother. Please tell him to come to the director’s office right now.”

-Yes, I understand. I’ll pass on the message.

“Thank you for your hard work. …Ms. Baek!”

Namgung Tree, who was lowering the receiver almost to the phone’s base, called out to Baek Girim urgently. The subordinate, who couldn’t hang up before her superior, answered diligently.

“Uh, how is Chief Min’s face… No, never mind.”

He started to ask her about Min Isak’s well-being but held his tongue. If his condition is awkward even to others, would it be better to tell him to go home? But then who will do the work?

“Tell him to come in quickly.”

He slammed the receiver down as if throwing it and washed his face with his dry palms.

“I’m going crazy.”

A mumble escaped from between his palms. Not long after, a knock came from outside the door.

“Come in.”

The moment the door opened, Namgung Tree swiveled his chair around. It was the opposite direction from where he would face when an employee or guest came.

“You called for me?”

Min Isak’s voice was the same as usual. There was no sign of guilt or even embarrassment about what had happened in the morning.

If he were to see his face right now, he might get a clue as to what he was thinking, but it also felt like if he did, things would get uncontrollably complicated again.

Get angry, or choke him, or get an erection. None of the three were welcome. Namgung Tree clenched his jaw tightly and swallowed the rising irritation down his throat.

“The intent and development parts of the proposal are fine. Just revise the section on the planned exhibition works. The works are too old for the intent. They may be works of a master, but what good are they if they don’t follow the exhibition’s intent?”

“Yes, I understand.”

He heard the sound of a pen scribbling on paper. It seemed Min Isak had even brought a writing instrument to take down his instructions.

“And supplement the promotional plan section. Older clients will come on their own if you just send them an invitation by mail, but people in their fifties will probably think it’s spam and won’t even read it properly. Don’t just end with posting press releases and on our gallery’s webpage and social media. Find other methods too. It would be good to invite a popular iTuber to do a live docent tour. There are copyright issues with video broadcasting, so make sure to notify and get consent for this part in advance when you’re procuring the works.”

Scratch, scratch. The speed of the pen’s scribbling increased.

“…Are you listening to me properly?”

“Yes. I am listening. By when should I finish revising the proposal?”

“Today is Monday, so let’s say I’ll receive the report on Wednesday at lunchtime. It’s just a simple list revision, so it should be simple, right? Ms. Kim is also scheduled to visit for the gallery owners’ meeting then, so let’s give her an informal report.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Min Isak jotted down everything Namgung Tree said without a single protest.

It would have been easier if you had been this obedient from the start.

“Should I include your works in the list, Mr. Director?”

On top of that, he was even trying to suck up to him.

Ha! Unbelievable.

It was clear that he knew how to navigate social life and had only been prickly with him.

“Of course you should. Where else would you find a young painter as talented as me. I don’t plan on selling, but I like to show them off.”

“Understood. Are there any further instructions?”

“No. You may leave.”

Namgung Tree ordered Min Isak to leave in a light tone.

He heard the sound of a notebook closing with a thud. Namgung Tree crossed his arms, intending not to turn around until he heard the sound of the door opening and closing. However, even after enough time had passed for him to have left and then some, Min Isak just fidgeted, unable to take a step.

Unable to bear it any longer, Namgung Tree spoke first.

“What is it. You have something to say?”

Min Isak mumbled.

“I apologize for what happened this morning.”

“From now on, this will never happen again. I’m sorry.”

“Right. It shouldn’t.”

However, on Wednesday, Namgung Tree ended up scattering the revised proposal Min Isak had brought back in front of his eyes again.

“Are you an idiot? Or do you think my words are a joke?”

Min Isak clamped his mouth shut. It was clear that he was at a loss for how to begin speaking.

“I told you to take out the old-fashioned paintings. That it would be much better for your proposal. Didn’t you agree, Chief Min? Why won’t you listen?”

On Monday, he had clearly ordered him to re-select the works. Min Isak had transcribed his instructions into his notebook without missing a word and had revised the proposal to a level that exceeded expectations. However, leaving the one painting that had bothered Namgung Tree the most on the list was unexpected.

“The piece you are pointing out, Mr. Director, is one that we have a prior agreement with the collector to exhibit, so it can’t be helped.”

“The director has changed. Then the agreement should be overturned and started anew. What are you blabbering about in front of me?”

Namgung Tree was reminded of the former director’s schemes. That fellow named Lee Yanghee, whom he had never even met, was persistently tripping him up.

If I ever lay my eyes on him, I won’t let him get away with it.

Today was the day of a private gathering of owners and directors of galleries located in Seoul. Namgung Tree was also scheduled to attend the meeting with his mother, Printemps Kim.

“Fuck. The meeting is about to start, and now I have to go in with a frown on my face on our first meeting. Thanks to you, Chief Min.”

He grumbled while meticulously checking his reflection in the mirror.

The brick-colored three-piece suit fit his body perfectly. Autumn was here, the cool breeze had started to blow, and he had finally received his first paycheck, so he had a new one tailored. The burgundy knit tie he bought with it was also bright. It was an attire that was impeccable for intimidating the other owners and directors.

He liked the attire, but he was in no mood to smile. It was all because of Min Isak.

“I’m sorry.”

Min Isak apologized without even a moment to lift his bowed head.

“If you’re going to say sorry, then don’t be so stubborn. Take that painting out. I won’t say it twice.”

“But, Mr. Director.”

“Really. But, my ass! If I say don’t do it, then don’t do it!”

Was he pretending to be compliant, changing his strategy? Namgung Tree shouted and threw the proposal at Min Isak.

Min Isak flinched and his shoulders trembled amidst the fluttering papers. Damn it. There was no need to search for the source of the déjà vu. The same thing had happened just two days ago, on Monday.

“Is the former director’s order that important? Then what am I, standing in front of you?”

“No, Mr. Director. I’m saying this for your own good. As you can see from the documents, we cannot ignore the collector of that painting.”

Min Isak spewed out what he had to say like a machine gun. He had to get his words out before Namgung Tree cut him off. In the end, the choice would be Namgung Tree’s, but Min Isak wanted to do his best with the work he was in charge of.

“Who is it? The president’s wife or something?”

“Well… similar. She is the wife of the Commissioner of the National Tax Service.”

“…Fuck. Why are you telling me this now?”

Namgung Tree stared into the air and shook his head as if in disbelief. His chest heaved and fell as he crossed his arms and took a deep breath.

The laws regarding art transactions were still inadequate. As such, the tax rate could vary greatly depending on what precedent was applied at what point in time. While it might not matter for small amounts of ten or twenty million won, for Gallery Spring, which frequently sold paintings in the hundreds of millions, the National Tax Service was a more fearsome entity than the grim reaper.

“So what do you want me to do?”

Namgung Tree glanced sideways at Min Isak. It was a problem that didn’t require much thought.

“What can’t be done, can’t be done. You want me to ruin art by sucking up to power? Who do you take me for, telling me to kiss the ass of the National Tax Service Commissioner?”

Min Isak staggered greatly. This guy is going to ruin the gallery. He thought he understood why Printemps Kim and Chairman Namgung Chun hadn’t readily handed the gallery over to their son and had started him as a director first.

“Taxes? A tax audit? Let them do it. We’ll just pay it.”

…No matter how immature he was, this was not it.

If they audited Gallery Spring, more than just dust would come out.

Namgung Tree, with his ideals at the forefront, was so clueless about reality it was too much. And it wasn’t the right time yet.

“An artist has his pride.”

“What a fine resolve you have.”

Suddenly, another voice cut in.

“Our Ms. Printemps, you’ve raised your son well.”

It was accompanied by the sound of flippant clapping. Clap, clap. A startled Namgung Tree snapped his mouth shut and turned his body toward the source of the sound like a broken machine. Leaning against the director’s office doorframe with Printemps Kim was a person he was seeing for the first time.

“Ms. Kim, hello.”

Min Isak bowed to Printemps Kim in greeting. She, with a very displeased expression, only raised her hand to acknowledge his greeting.

“You don’t see me?”

The man who came in with her acted slickly toward Min Isak. Min Isak reluctantly acknowledged him, asking if the professor was well too.

Who is he?

He gave him a look that said, ‘Introduce me,’ but Min Isak paid attention only to the two of them, as if Namgung Tree wasn’t even there. Were we just fighting? He felt annoyed at his attitude as he calmly greeted the two.

“What is going on. Why is your loud voice leaking outside the director’s office? Aren’t you ashamed in front of your subordinate?”

Printemps Kim shouted in a voice that sounded like she’d swallowed a car horn.

“Please calm down, Ms. Kim. It’s nothing serious.”

With Namgung Tree standing there blankly, Min Isak stepped in to handle the situation.

“What do you mean it’s nothing!”

She raised her hand. It seemed that hitting people easily was a family trait. Min Isak squeezed his eyes shut and tensed his neck. His thin cheek trembled in anticipation of the impending sharp sound.

However, Min Isak did not get slapped by Printemps Kim. Namgung Tree’s eyes widened.

It was because the man who had entered with her had grabbed her hand and started smiling with a gentle voice.

“Oh my, our dear Ms. Kim. Please calm down. When two men are working, they can grab each other by the collar, curse a little, what’s there to be so angry about.”

“Professor!”

“It’s all for the sake of doing a good job for the gallery. If they just laughed hahaha hohoho all day, would that be a workplace or a kindergarten?”

Fights happen in kindergarten too, you know. Because he blocked her path, Printemps Kim had to lower her raised hand. If it weren’t for him, Min Isak would have been slapped without a doubt.

“I’ll let it go this one time for your sake, Professor. What is this behavior in front of others? How embarrassing… Fine. That aside, why were you fighting?”

“Was it really a fight? It was a minor difference of opinion.”

Min Isak answered her as she glared with her arms crossed. Namgung Tree’s head whipped around toward Min Isak. The National Tax Service Commissioner had even been mentioned. The content of their fight could certainly not be summarized as a simple, minor difference of opinion.

“Do you risk an artist’s pride over a minor difference of opinion? Come on, you shouldn’t tarnish the director’s reputation to avoid Ms. Kim’s anger, Chief Min.”

The man called ‘Professor’ now chided Chief Min. When he blamed the subordinate instead of Namgung Tree, Printemps Kim’s expression softened somewhat.

“Is it because of this?”

The man bent his knees and picked up the scattered papers from the floor one by one. Shffk, shffk, his hands moved quickly to organize the scattered proposal in order.

“Is this the proposal for the special exhibition?”

“Who are you, to be reading someone else’s confidential documents without permission?”

The man read the exhibition proposal without permission. It was a proposal that hadn’t even been finalized, so it wasn’t something to be circulated outside.

“You don’t know me? I’m an advisor here. Chief Min, didn’t you handle the director’s handover properly?”

Namgung Tree, who had been growling spiritedly, blushed.

If he was an advisor, his name would surely have been written in the handover documents Min Isak had given him, but after receiving the documents and USB from him, he had only looked at the cover before shoving them into the bottom drawer of his desk. And he hadn’t read a single page since. There probably wasn’t even a single fingerprint of his on the inside pages.

“This is Professor Kwon Hyuk of Korea National University of Arts, an advisor for Gallery Spring.”

To a gaping Namgung Tree, Min Isak answered for him. Printemps Kim pressed a hand to her forehead and staggered.

“You heard him? Well, it’s not like Lee Yanghee would have done the handover properly anyway.”

Kwon Hyuk grinned and blamed Lee Yanghee, who wasn’t present. The man’s mediation was truly fantastic. He blamed the absent Lee Yanghee, and by having the common enemy take the fall for a transgression he didn’t even commit, everyone was acquitted.

Only Namgung Tree was looking at him with an expression like he’d chewed on a bug.

He didn’t like the way the man looked at him as if he were a kindergartener from next door.

“But isn’t this too radical? It’s a different grain from what you’ve done so far. If this goes up, people will think it’s not being held at Gallery Spring.”

Kwon Hyuk evaluated the proposal similarly to what Min Isak had said to Namgung Tree. Namgung Tree was appalled by the attitude of even the man who was an advisor, who wanted to stick to the same old ways that had worked well so far.

“How long are we going to stick with the old-fashioned…”

Blocking Namgung Tree, who was about to charge forward, Min Isak cut in.

“You could see it that way, but. Professor, now that we have a new director, it’s time for our Gallery Spring to differentiate itself from the past. By broadening the horizons of the art trends we’ve dealt with before…”

Min Isak explained the plan using refined words. He packaged the sentiment of ‘I don’t like old-fashioned things’ into the phrase ‘broadening the horizons.’

He explained the exhibition proposal to Kwon Hyuk and Printemps Kim with all his heart and soul. Kwon Hyuk also passed the exhibition proposal to Printemps Kim and focused on Min Isak’s words, watching him.

While the explanation continued, Namgung Tree nodded behind Min Isak. With each phrase, each syllable he spoke, he had to suppress the urge to add interjections like, ‘That’s right,’ ‘Good job,’ ‘That’s what I’m saying,’ and just nodded.

He’s so good at this. Why did he make such a fuss about hanging one painting? Feeling smug, Namgung Tree asked Kwon Hyuk a question.

“Professor. You said you’re an advisor, right? Since you’re here, I’d like to ask your opinion. This piece, what do you think of it?”

Namgung Tree pointed to the painting that had been the cause of the fight, in the middle of the proposal Printemps Kim was looking at. Kwon Hyuk also craned his neck to check the proposal over her shoulder.

What do you think?

If he had listened carefully to Min Isak’s explanation, he too would not like the inclusion of such a painting.

“This piece? If you take this piece out, won’t the exhibition become too rootless?”

Kwon Hyuk’s reaction was different from what he expected.

“There’s a certain grain to how portraits have been discussed in the Korean art scene. On top of that, this is…”

Kwon Hyuk stared intently at Namgung Tree and then whispered in Printemps Kim’s ear. He couldn’t tell what he was saying because he covered his mouth with his hand, but Printemps Kim’s gaze on Namgung Tree grew colder and colder.

Kwon Hyuk, pulling his lips away from her ear, gave a fishy smile.

“Namgung Tree, do you know who the owner of this painting is?”

He had already heard that fact when Min Isak had insisted that the painting couldn’t be removed from the exhibition. He said with a confident smile.

“I know. It’s the wife of the National Tax Service Commissioner.”

It was because of that that he had been even more determined not to show it in the exhibition.

Smack!

His head whipped to the side with the sound of air being cut at high speed.

“Ms. Kim!”

Min Isak shouted.

Namgung Tree raised a hand to cup his own cheek. His left cheek was stinging.

As soon as he registered what had happened, his temple throbbed. But he clenched his fists and endured it. His nails dug painfully into his palms.