Can Murder Be a Workplace Accident? Chapter 9.5

Namgung Tree took off his nitrile glove and used it to smack Bae Taemin on the head. The sweat-soaked glove gave off a damp, rubbery smell.

“…”

“Hey, if you have something to say, just say it. Why are you hitting a person on the head?”

Chef Choi protested to Namgung Tree.

“I hit him to snap him out of it. If it weren’t for Chief Min, the picture frame would have shattered. The painting’s frame itself almost broke, and we would have had to re-stretch the canvas. Do you have any idea how big a loss that would have been?”

“And that’s a reason to hit someone?”

Chef Choi could not understand. The painting was fine, and that should have been the end of it. It was not a matter of life and death; it was just a single painting. The scene of someone getting furiously angry and making a big fuss over it seemed like a play.

Namgung Tree ignored Chef Choi and started yelling at Bae Taemin.

“Do you get it? The painting itself almost got ruined. I know you’ve put down your brush, but how can a guy who used to paint not know how precious another person’s painting is?”

“People come first… What’s so important about a stupid painting…”

“That’s enough, Chef Choi.”

Bae Taemin stopped Chef Choi, who was muttering in disbelief.

“I was wrong.”

He admitted his fault with an absurd amount of ease.

“If you understand, then go stand over there.”

Namgung Tree pointed to the lobby outside.

Bae Taemin was unusually obedient to Namgung Tree’s words. He walked toward the lobby with his shoulders slumped and his head down.

Chef Choi shook his head. He was an extremely ordinary person who could not distinguish between a printed picture and a painted one. What is all this fuss about? he thought. He pouted and followed Bae Taemin outside.

With Namgung Tree getting angry on their behalf, the workers could no longer complain. He was strangely different from the gallery directors they had seen before.

He was not the type to just point his finger and give orders from a distance, or sometimes side with the client and argue without even looking into the matter properly. He helped with the work as if it were his own, and he even got angry for them.

Moreover, even though he was supposedly friends with the young president who had just caused a commotion, he took their side. If he was genuinely angry, he was a man who clearly separated his public and private life; if it was an act, he was an old fox who knew how to handle people.

“It’s okay, Director. Please stop being angry, and let’s get back to work.”

The workers soothed Namgung Tree as they pulled new gloves from their back pockets. Now, all they had to do was put the painting in its special case and mount it on the wall, and all the paintings for the restaurant would be installed.

Chef Choi, who had been staring blankly at this scene, slapped Bae Taemin’s hand away. Bae Taemin had been chewing nervously on his fingernails.

“What?”

“You’ll get parasites.”

Bae Taemin scowled and shoved both hands deep into his pockets. He stood still for a moment, but then his leg started shaking. He watched Namgung Tree with restless eyes.

To think that temper of his could be subdued with a single word from Namgung Tree. A one-sided love should have its limits; at this point, it was dumbfounding to watch.

Chef Choi sighed and turned his gaze to the painting hanging on the long wall of the restaurant. It was a still life. Finely sliced lemons, a pigeon pie, and a silver vase were painted in such detail that it made his mouth water just looking at it. He liked how the painting he was seeing with his eyes felt like an appetizer.

It would be upsetting if a painting like this were damaged, he thought. It would be even more so for someone whose profession is in the arts. Chef Choi’s eyes followed Min Isak.

“Huh?”

Chef Choi stretched his neck forward like a turtle and lifted his glasses. Bae Taemin, who had been leaning against the wall, turned his head toward him as if to ask what was wrong.

Min Isak’s two hands, clad in ivory-colored nitrile gloves, were mismatched. His right hand, holding a pencil, looked like a normal person’s hand, but his left hand was puffy. Cold sweat beaded on his pale face as he clenched his teeth tightly.

Furthermore, ever since the work had started, Min Isak had been giving instructions from a distance, far from the painting. He looked like someone keeping a safe distance from a hazardous material.

“Please tilt it 0.5 degrees to the left.”

When the usually quiet man gave an order in a loud voice, it naturally looked strange to others as well. As Namgung Tree looked at Min Isak with a puzzled expression, Min Isak discreetly slipped his left hand into his apron pocket.

Chef Choi did not miss the twitch in Min Isak’s eyebrow.

“Chef Choi, where are you going?”

He suddenly strode into the restaurant. He had been warned that only authorized personnel were allowed, but he walked in without hesitation.

“Excuse me. Please show me your hand.”

Chef Choi grabbed Min Isak’s shoulder and turned him around. He caught the arm of the man trying to pull away and took his left hand out of the apron.

“Agh.”

The moment Chef Choi’s hand touched his left hand, Min Isak could not hide his groan. Namgung Tree, who had been supervising the work, also walked quickly over to Min Isak’s side.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Director.”

“You call this nothing?”

Chef Choi held Min Isak’s hand and gently pushed up the edge of the glove. The hand, palm, and fingers were swollen like sausages, so much so that the nitrile glove was stretched to its breaking point.

Eventually, the cuff of the glove got stuck on the swollen back of his hand, making it difficult to pull off even with force.

“Scissors. No, bring me some scissors. The thinnest ones you have.”

“Yes, I understand.”

A worker brought a pair of thin packaging scissors from the toolbox. As soon as the thin blades touched it, the nitrile glove tore with a rip. And from within, a hand that had turned purple emerged.

“Just as I thought. It’s fractured.”

Chef Choi said calmly. Everyone gasped. The skin was a color not found on a living person. On Min Isak’s face, a look of dismay appeared before the pain.

“Why didn’t you say anything? It must have hurt!”

“It was bearable. And I have to see the work through to the end.”

Namgung Tree flared up in anger. There was a limit to being foolish. Chef Choi also looked at Min Isak with a pitiful expression.

“Are you dense, or are you stupid? What’s so important about this stupid painting… Mr. President, can you come back tomorrow? Let’s stop work for today. Min Isak, I’m calling an ambulance, so just wait a moment.”

“Director, this is the only company whose schedule fits ours. There are no other companies with free time since all the exhibitions are packed in after the Chuseok holiday. We have to finish the work today. We can’t postpone it.”

“Is work the problem right now?”

Namgung Tree yelled at Min Isak. It was a starkly different attitude from when he had been angry at Bae Taemin for almost ruining the painting.

How can a person be so different? Chef Choi was quite surprised inwardly as he examined Min Isak’s hand.

“There’s no need to call an ambulance. It’s not an injury that needs to be treated this very second.”

“Who are you to say that? Are you a doctor or something?”

Namgung Tree glared at Chef Choi. He had been picking a fight with him since a while ago. He had been patient because the man looked five or six years older than them, but his patience was wearing thin.

“…”

Chef Choi glared back at Namgung Tree with an equally intimidating look.

Min Isak’s head ached. This was why he had hidden the fact that he was hurt. It was painful, but it was not so agonizing that he would lose consciousness right away.

It was already two in the afternoon. There was not much time left. If he gritted his teeth, he could endure it until the work was completely finished.

“Let’s go.”

Namgung Tree, who had already grabbed his car keys, pulled Min Isak along.

“Where are you going, leaving the artwork here? The person in charge has to remain on site.”

“So you’re saying you won’t go? Are you in your right mind?”

“I’ll go. I’ll go, so please, Director, you stay here.”

“What did you say?”

Namgung Tree put his hands on his hips and glared alternately at the floor and the ceiling. He was supposed to send a hurt person to the hospital alone? Without a guardian? But Min Isak was right.

As the director, he had a duty to be responsible for the site. Even if he left the artwork, the experienced crew would handle the job well on their own, but the two words “responsibility” held his shoulders down.

“I would like for you to take responsibility for the site, Director. That way… I’ll feel more at ease.”

“Oh, just film a drama, why don’t you.”

Bae Taemin sneered but then shrank back under Namgung Tree’s glare. He also felt a sense of responsibility for the situation. So he kept his mouth shut, but he did not want to see the sight of just Namgung Tree and Min Isak going to the hospital together.

“Chef Choi. Take this kid to the hospital.”

“Why me? Isn’t it common sense for the person who caused the incident to take him to the hospital himself?”

Chef Choi protested. He had only come to check on how the restaurant was coming along, but he had ended up in this mess.

“No!”

“It’s alright. I’ll go by taxi.”

Bae Taemin and Min Isak shouted at the same time. What’s more, as if offended by their simultaneous refusal, they sharply turned their heads away from each other. At this rate, it looked like they would get into an accident on the way.

“I, I’m the hotel owner too, so I have a duty to personally confirm the final placement.”

Bae Taemin hastily added an excuse. Yes, that was also true. Chef Choi let out a sigh, stood up, and made a phone call somewhere.

“Yeah, it’s me. It’s been a while. Do you think you can take one in Orthopedics? It’s not serious, I think it’s a hairline fracture in the metacarpal. A cast should be enough…”

Does he know someone at the hospital? He rattled off difficult terms one after another. It seemed he was more than just an acquaintance. After finishing the call, he spoke to Min Isak.

“I’ll bring the car around. Meet me in front of the hotel in five minutes.”

It was not a pleasant thing to have volunteered to transport a patient, but it was better than continuing to watch this pathetic scene. He hurriedly left the restaurant.

“Go on. Get treated well, and you have to tell me everything the doctor says later.”

“…”

“Don’t look at me with such distrustful eyes. I’ve had several of my own exhibitions. I’m pretty good at installing artwork, you know? Have a little faith in me.”

Seeing the palpable anxiety on Min Isak, Namgung Tree deliberately grinned.

“…Yes.”

“Contact me when the treatment is over. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Hey, if you’re going, then hurry up and go instead of dawdling. Aren’t we going to work?”

Bae Taemin shouted irritably.

Seeing him dragging his feet like that, it did not seem like a major injury. There’s a limit to how much you can put on an act. A hairline fracture, he said. Are there any guys who didn’t get a hairline fracture at least once while messing around in middle or high school?

Suddenly, the top of his foot, which had been stepped on earlier, throbbed. I was stepped on hard, too. Maybe I have a hairline fracture, too? There was a big scratch on his Italian luxury shoes as well. Seeing Namgung Tree escorting Min Isak all the way to the door made his heart pound.

Is this karma? He remembered Chef Choi’s teasing words as he passed by.

No way. Karma? That’s ridiculous.

He stomped his foot against the wall. Thump.

“Hey!”

The sharp glares of Namgung Tree and the workers flew his way. Bae Taemin flinched his shoulders. In the Maison des Artistes, there was not a single person on his side.