Even the Wealthy Want Their Tastes Respected
Three clients lay before us.
Each file held a rough profile of the person in question, along with the piece they hoped to acquire at the coming art exhibition.
“Even so, this feels a little different from what I expected. When most people hear ‘art,’ they automatically picture paintings or sculptures.”
“The range of art is endless. Anything a human being expresses can, in itself, be called art.”
Indeed, every request written on the papers in front of me carried an unmistakably unusual flavor.
The first client wanted a vase.
He had listed his intention to purchase a set of rather crude-looking vases crafted by an Indian artisan, even attaching reference images. At a glance they looked ordinary, almost cute. The striking detail was the man’s occupation: a famous oil tycoon from the Middle East. For someone whose profession suggested he might demand something extravagant, the unexpectedly modest taste was itself a kind of signature.
The second client’s desired item was far stranger from the outset.
It was sculpture-adjacent, yet nothing like an ordinary statue. Rather than depicting a person or object, it rendered something entirely imaginary—two-dimensional beings translated into three dimensions. In short, a figure.
The thought of a figure appearing at an art exhibition felt odd, yet it was a form of sculptural art in its own right, so there was no real reason to exclude it. Specifically, he wanted the special limited edition—only one in the entire world—of a certain red-armpitted shrine maiden character. And the truly hilarious part? The man who wanted it was the chairman of a world-famous conglomerate that even ordinary Koreans would recognize. The idea that someone of that stature secretly enjoyed games and animation stirred an unexpected sense of kinship.
Then there was the third client.
This one felt peculiar in a different way from the first two. He had not clearly revealed his identity. All that was known was that he served as chairman of a multinational corporation called Laie, and that he wanted a certain musical instrument scheduled to appear at the exhibition. Music was art as well, of course, but unlike the others this request involved auditory rather than sculptural art, which gave it a refreshing edge.
As we reviewed the requests, the three of us began weighing which one to take.
“If we’re going purely by entertainment value, number two looks the most interesting to me.”
“If I have to pick a personal preference, I like number one. There’s something appealing about its understated quality.”
“I prefer the third person. Unlike the others, he seems to possess genuine artistic discernment. More than anything, this is Mon pays la France—my homeland, France. Since I’m returning home after so long, I’d rather work under someone who actually understands art.”
Opinions split according to taste among the three of us. The conditions were roughly equal and the basic location was satisfactory, so from my perspective it hardly mattered who we chose. The other two seemed to feel the same; we eyed one another warily, none of us quite ready to push our preference hard.
Then—
“…The third.”
“…Huh?”
Kwon Soon, who had remained silent the entire time, finally spoke. The three of us showed mild surprise.
“I like the third. Let’s go with the third.”
“Uh… shall we?”
Her clear declaration automatically pulled the rest of us into agreement. Since the vote had been one-to-one-to-one, majority rule decided the matter in Kwon Soon’s favor as a matter of course.
We settled on the third request. Are immediately contacted them to accept the commission.
Roughly three hours later, a reply arrived through the company account. It expressed gratitude for our acceptance and outlined the schedule ahead.
“So we’re heading to France now?”
“Yes. Before that, though, we’ll need to meet the client in person to finalize the contract. It will probably function as a kind of interview.”
“An interview… When and where?”
“Well, about that… The time is three days from now, Saturday at eight in the evening, and the place is…?”
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Are’s face. The moment I checked the so-called interview location on the screen, the same expression settled on mine.
“Jinhyun… this can’t be…”
“It’s not ‘can’t be.’ It definitely is.”
If it was coincidence, it was an awfully pointed one. As we openly radiated that strange atmosphere, the remaining two grew curious and leaned in to examine the screen.
“This is… that place, right?”
“I think I know it too. I’ve been there a few times. It’s where Are’s sister works, isn’t it?”
The interview location displayed on the screen was, by pure chance, the café run by Noona Suyoung—the one in Sangdang-gu. Of all the places in the world, it had to be this one. I found myself thinking it was far too remarkable a coincidence.
“Even so, this person seems rather eccentric. Don’t these interviews usually take place at a private residence or company building?”
“Yes… well… that’s true, but…”
Are’s reaction to my comment was oddly muted. She, too, seemed as puzzled as I was that the interview site was none other than her own sister’s café.
“Anyway… they told us to come, so we should go. Since the location is what it is, Are and I will handle it.”
“All right, let’s do that.”
“Don’t show up half-prepared. Get ready properly.”
Three days later.
As announced, we arrived at the interview location and took our seats, feeling a mixture of welcome and mild awkwardness.
“So this client of yours actually set the interview here?”
“That’s what I said. Did you hear anything, Noona?”
“Nothing special. Just that, as you can see, there are almost no customers at this hour—unlike usual.”
True to her words, for a Saturday afternoon the café was far too empty. The only people present were Are, myself, and the owner, Suyoung. Ran had already gone upstairs declaring she was going to sleep, so it really was just the three of us.
It’s not only the café. The street outside is strangely deserted too…
There was still a little time before the interview, yet I kept turning the situation over in my mind with growing unease.
No matter how I look at it, this is strange. Of all the places on this vast planet, they chose the one spot where our almost only acquaintance works. Something… an ominous feeling won’t leave me.
The probability wasn’t zero, of course. Still, the fact that the client had selected this café—rather than any other location—as the interview site felt like a coincidence stretched far beyond chance.
Working from that suspicion and our current circumstances, I began considering possible developments.
The mission we’re about to take is a security detail. No matter when, where, or against whom something happens, our absolute duty is to protect the principal… And the other side, under the guise of an interview, may be testing whether we’re suitable for the job. Which means…!
The moment the thought clicked, my eyes went automatically to the clock on the wall.
Fifteen minutes remained until eight.
Regardless of that fact, I spoke to Are with complete seriousness.
“Are. Go to full alert right now.”
“What? What do you mean—”
“That’s an order under the commander’s authority. Carry it out immediately.”
“Ah… yes.”
I answered her confusion in a clear, firm voice. Still wearing a puzzled expression, Are nevertheless obeyed and carefully drew the suppression baton she had brought as a backup weapon from inside her coat.
At that moment—