Return of the Genius Photographer

The more I heard, the more I thought—this guy really does live life on easy mode.

“Are you sure that’ll be okay?” I asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” Kangsan replied without a moment’s doubt.

“You’re not just anyone, you know. The youngest Arles winner, praised as a ‘Supernova’ by Edward himself. You’re a big deal.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

“Come on, even a renowned columnist called you the ‘Pearl of Arles.’ What agency wouldn’t jump at the chance?”

And there he goes again, teasing me.

I frowned slightly, but he only chuckled and suddenly added in a more serious tone, “We’re the ones holding all the cards here, remember?”

We.

That word struck a chord with me, and for some reason, it felt… comforting.

***

It was a peaceful afternoon at Café Louis.

The relaxed atmosphere was filled with the gentle hum of conversations, creating a natural kind of liveliness.

However, amidst the calm, one particular table radiated palpable tension.

A group of men in suits sat around a circular table, locking eyes in a silent battle of wills.

Their diverse appearances—white, Black, and Asian—drew curious glances from other patrons, but the table remained its own isolated battlefield.

Breaking the long silence, an older Chinese man, likely from Shenxianhui, spoke up.

“Never thought I’d see Sumire here,” he remarked, placing a hand adorned with a gaudy gold ring on the table as if to show off.

His tone was laced with thinly veiled disdain, as though questioning whether a Japanese agency like Sumire even belonged in the same league.

Everyone at the table could sense the condescension, but the Sumire representative didn’t even spare him a glance.

Instead, they calmly sipped their coffee and replied, “I’m surprised too. Who knew Shenxianhui had the eye to recognize talent, and not just money?”

The jab landed perfectly, and though the Shenxianhui man forced a dry chuckle, the way his hand clenched slightly gave away his irritation.

“Well, I wonder if your agency has anything to boast about besides empty words.”

“The only agency that considers money its sole bragging point is yours, Shenxianhui.”

“Isn’t helping artists earn more money an agency’s primary function?”

“Then why don’t we settle it? Let’s see which agency has the money to back up its talk.”

It was like a proxy war for their countries’ diplomatic tensions, with neither side willing to concede an inch.

Amidst the escalating verbal sparring, a new voice interjected.

“Seems like both of you think it’s a given that the photographer will choose one of you.”

All eyes turned to the speaker: a Black man in silver-rimmed glasses, representing the French agency Avaler.

“Kai is not someone Shenxianhui or Sumire could contain,” he continued with a smirk.

“What?”

“Ha, ridiculous.”

Ignoring their reactions, he added smugly, “It’s obvious that an artist like Kai would choose Avaler. Our focus on artistic expression is a perfect match for his work.”

His arrogance was palpable, sparking irritation from both Shenxianhui and Sumire. Just as they opened their mouths to retaliate, another voice joined in.

“Avaler still stuck in the past, huh? Haven’t been hearing much good about you lately.”

This time, it was the representative from Germany’s Gatling Agency.

“Are you an agency for journalists or photographers? Hard to tell these days.”

The red-haired man continued, targeting Avaler with his sharp words.

“Actually, isn’t Avaler the smallest agency here?”

“Hah, if there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that Gatling doesn’t stand a chance at landing this contract.”

The tension rose as the agencies exchanged barbs, their glares practically shooting sparks. The café felt less like a meeting place and more like a battleground.

“Now, now, everyone, let’s calm down.”

It was the American representative from Oswald who finally stepped in to diffuse the situation.

“If we let our emotions take over, this will turn into a pointless grudge match,” he said calmly, immediately lowering the tension in the room.

Despite their animosity, the representatives were fundamentally businesspeople, and they understood the logic behind his words.

“Look, we all want Kai, but instead of ruining things for everyone, let’s have a fair competition. Prove your agency’s worth and let the best one win.”

The other agencies nodded in agreement, one by one.

“That’s fine by us. We’re confident we’ll come out on top,” Avaler’s representative said first.

“Same here. It’s what we wanted anyway,” added Sumire.

“We’ll prove we’re more than just deep pockets,” Shenxianhui’s representative chimed in.

“Let’s not embarrass ourselves too much when we lose,” Gatling’s man said with a smirk.

Just as the atmosphere seemed to settle into a competitive but professional tone…

―Ding, ding.

The bell on the café door rang, signaling new arrivals.

Two figures stepped in—both Asian.

It was Kangsan and Woojin.

***

“Hello, Kai! We met at the banquet, didn’t we?”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Nohara Hiroshi from Sumire Agency.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Kai and Kangsan. We’re from Avaler.”

The tension that had filled the air moments earlier disappeared as if it had never existed.

The agencies greeted Woojin with bright smiles, their tones friendly and welcoming.

No matter the underlying rivalry, their sole purpose here was to secure a contract with Woojin. Making a good impression was more important than pride.

After all, Woojin was worth it.

The youngest recipient of the Arles award, praised as a “Supernova” by Edward, a famous columnist.

Even for agencies constantly scouting and tracking talent, Woojin was an unexpected and unique discovery, an artist whose value in the photography industry kept rising.

Simply put, Kai’s name alone could bring in a wealth of opportunities and jobs.

Everyone here had their eyes on sealing this deal.

“Hello, as you all know, I’m Kai, a photographer,” Woojin said, bowing politely before taking a seat.

Around the table, the agency representatives fixed their smiles on him, watching his every move.

A brief silence followed as they awaited his words.

Woojin met each agency representative’s gaze, then spoke calmly.

“I’ll get straight to the point.”

The air grew heavier with anticipation.

“All of your agencies have different strengths and qualities. To be honest…”

―Gulp.

Someone audibly swallowed their nerves.

No one, apart from Woojin and Kangsan, was free from the tension.

“…I find all of you appealing enough to work with. So I’d like to keep it simple and go with the agency offering the highest contract fee.”

It was a decision Woojin had already reached during his conversation with Kangsan.

The five agencies present had been carefully selected by Kangsan, who had filtered through contracts to pick only those offering good terms.

These agencies had excellent reputations, provided abundant work opportunities, and took good care of their photographers.

Realistically, it didn’t seem like there would be a significant difference no matter which agency Woojin chose.

The room fell into a stunned silence.

By stating that only the monetary offer mattered, Woojin had just nullified all the preliminary negotiations the agencies had discussed before his arrival.

Now, it was a war.

A war fought with money.

“Uh, we can offer $70,000 for a two-year contract!”

The first to react was the French agency, Avaler.

Their opening bid rendered all prior discussions meaningless, and the other agencies quickly jumped into the competition.

“In that case, we’ll offer $100,000 for a one-year contract!”

The Japanese agency, Sumire, raised the stakes.

“Let’s make it $150,000 for one year!”

China’s Shenxianhui didn’t hold back either.

“Then we’ll go up to $160,000 for a one-year contract!”

Germany’s Gatling followed suit, further driving up the numbers.

The value of a one-year contract surged by tens of thousands of dollars in mere moments.

Woojin watched the scene unfold, amused by the bidding war happening right in front of him.

And then…

“We, at Oswald Agency, will offer $180,000 for one year and adjust the profit split to 70:30.”

The previously silent American agency, Oswald, finally made their move, reigniting the competition.

“What the…?”

“Didn’t they just talk about avoiding a bidding war?”

The offer was groundbreaking—not just because of the contract amount but because they adjusted the profit split, which was usually 60:40, in Woojin’s favor.

It was clear that Oswald had anticipated this from the start and prepared extensively.

A cunning and resourceful agency.

Oswald… where have I heard that name before?

Woojin’s gaze met the Oswald agent’s as he recalled what he knew about them.

Oswald wasn’t just a photography agency—they were deeply involved in various content businesses and had unmatched financial power.

Moreover, they were known for granting their photographers the most creative freedom.

The terms and the agency’s reputation were incredibly appealing.

“Mr. Kai! Please give us a moment!”

“Excuse me, I need to make a quick call. Please wait just a bit!”

Sensing the tide turning in Oswald’s favor, the other agencies scrambled to react. Some hurried out, presumably to get approval for higher budgets.

“See that?” Kangsan whispered to Woojin, grinning. “Told you it’d turn into a dogfight.”

After a bit more back-and-forth, the final contract was settled.

Woojin signed with Oswald Agency for $200,000 over one year, with an unprecedented profit split of 80:20 in his favor.

It was a deal beyond his expectations.

While he didn’t know the exact terms of other top photographers’ contracts—those were tightly kept secrets—it had to be on par with the best.

It was an outcome that left Woojin thoroughly satisfied.

“Thank you,” Woojin said, signing the contract and shaking the hand extended toward him.

“I look forward to working with you,” he added, gripping the agent’s hand firmly.

And just like that, Woojin secured his first agency contract.

***

‘Hah… this one’s done, too.’

After finalizing the agency contract, I returned to the hotel with Kangsan.

Even though I hadn’t said much myself during the meeting, just watching the agencies fiercely compete had been enough to leave me drenched in nervous sweat.

It wasn’t just the tense atmosphere; I couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario.

What if they had secretly come to an agreement among themselves to reject me?

If that had happened, things would have turned out very differently.

But thankfully, it was over now, and I didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

In fact, the outcome had exceeded all expectations, leaving me more relieved than exhausted despite the cold sweat.

‘Still, I should clean up first.’

Even though I wanted nothing more than to collapse on the bed, I decided to shower and change out of my clothes first.

But…

‘Huh? What’s this?’

When I checked my phone after finishing my shower, the screen was filled with missed call notifications.

Every single one was from my mom.

‘Did something happen?’

A sudden wave of anxiety washed over me, and I immediately called her back.

She must have been holding her phone because she picked up the moment the call connected.

— Woojin, you’re not busy, are you?

Her trembling voice came through the receiver clearly.

“No, Mom. Is everything okay?” I asked, my voice filled with worry.

There was a brief sound, like she was trying to hold back tears, before she spoke again, her tone strained.

— Woojin… your dad… he’s been hurt pretty badly.

“What?”

— He fell while working… I don’t know what to do… I don’t know what to do.

In an instant, it felt like my heart plummeted into my stomach.