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314

The Final Showdown (19)

“Thank you for joining us again. We appreciate it.”

Edward Jenner, the Client Relationship Director of Christie’s, the world’s largest auction house, greeted Ko Hun.

The art world was paying close attention to today’s auction, thanks to Ko Hun, the most beloved painter of the present time, entrusting his work to them.

Not only did Christie’s broadcast the auction live, but major media outlets from various countries also reported on the auction situation.

For Christie’s, who had poured their heart and soul into preparing for this Art Basel, it was a more than welcome phenomenon.

“It’s nothing.”

Ko Hun smiled awkwardly.

“No, it’s not. I know you have a negative view of auctions. I’ve heard it before.”

Edward Jenner smiled slyly.

In the past three years, only two works by active artists had recorded higher bids than Ko Hun’s .

Edward Jenner, who was aiming for an executive position through this opportunity, had to secure Ko Hun at all costs.

“I thought about why you would avoid auctions, even though they are the most profitable way. Maybe it’s because they are misused. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

Ko Hun nodded.

It didn’t make sense to avoid auctions because they could make a lot of money.

Ko Hun was wary of his works becoming speculative objects through the auction market.

As buying works became a way to make money rather than appreciate them, rarity and popularity became more important than aesthetics, and he thought that artists would follow that trend.

That’s how the art market became increasingly distant from the public, which was not what Ko Hun wanted.

“But there is no way to stop who will bid for what purpose, at least for now.”

Ko Hun was disappointed.

He didn’t fully trust Edward Jenner, who said he would find a way to lead it in a good direction, but he had a little hope.

“However.”

Edward Jenner handed him a document.

“We have a choice of how to use the proceeds.”

“What is this?”

“This is a press release that says we will use some of the auction proceeds for students. It will be published today.”

Edward Jenner persuaded Ko Hun.

“It may not be the answer you wanted, but I think it’s better to do something than nothing, if you can’t achieve a perfect line. We can’t deny the nature of increasing profits, nor can we infringe on the bidders’ freedom, so we have to do what we can.”

Ko Hun looked over Christie’s statement.

It said that they would share 10% of the auction proceeds with struggling artists and high school students.

10% of the revenue from a big auction with participants like Egon Schiele, Julian Pio, and Ko Hun was not a small amount.

“This might continue if it leads to a good result. But this kind of thing.”

“You mean I have to participate, right?”

Ko Hun got to the point.

“That’s right.”

Edward Jenner nodded.

“Actually, neither Christie’s nor Sotheby’s, nor Phillips have any reason to do this on purpose. They are companies that aim to generate profits.”

“Yes.”

“But they are also in a position where they need to receive good works from artists. It’s a symbiotic relationship. The more people like you who want the auctions to be healthy, the more we have to reflect their voices to some extent.”

Ko Hun agreed with Edward Jenner’s words.

The auction houses had no reason to share their profits.

They moved with the pretext of the voices of the artists who sold their works at high prices.

“It’s hard to change the big flow by moving one side alone. But I think we can move a little bit if we work together.”

Ko Hun looked at Edward Jenner.

It was not the ideal situation he wanted, but he was trustworthy, trying to get the best result within the realistic range.

‘He should be in a high position.’

Ko Hun smiled and reached out his hand.

“Please take good care of me.”

“Of course.”

The two shook hands.

Go Soo-yeol and Bang Tae-ho watched them with satisfaction.

“570,000 dollars. Anyone else? I’ll take the bid. 570,000 dollars. 570,000 dollars. 570,000 dollars. Sold.”

The auction hall was filled with applause.

The third work of the day was sold for a whopping 570,000 dollars.

After being sold for $218,750 at Christie’s New York, Julian Pio set his personal record twice today.

He couldn’t hide his joy as he bumped shoulders with his manager, who accompanied him to the auction where he had put up three of his works, including .

‘This is not good.’

Arsen sensed a bad vibe.

Even though it was the biggest art market, the works of famous artists were sold for more than twice their original prices.

The people who came to the scene were all wealthy, and they were active in bidding.

It was hard to predict how fierce the competition would be for Ko Hun’s new work, which had not been announced yet, but it didn’t seem easy.

Except for , which had recorded an exceptional price.

Since then, Ko Hun had achieved good results at the Whitney Biennale and the Art Nouveau Competition.

He also created a discourse by promoting racial harmony at the Dali Plaza and the Bugrenelli Shopping Mall.

Moreover, this year he participated in the Münster Sculpture Project, the Kassel Documenta, and the Swiss Art Basel, followed by the Venice Biennale, so he could expect at least $1 million or more.

Arsen was not the only one who thought so.

“Excuse me, sir.”

A Christie’s staff member approached the auctioneer Adam Gladstone.

As Adam leaned his ear, he whispered in a low voice.

“The Münster Sculpture Project Citizen Award has been decided. It’s Ko Hun.”

Adam Gladstone, who had successfully sold three works in a row today, nodded in satisfaction.

From his long experience, he knew that a day like today would always bring trouble.

The wealthy bidders were eager to join the auction, and the works were excellent, so nothing could be better.

On top of that, the situation where the most prominent artist at today’s auction, along with Egon Schiele, had confirmed his award at the Münster Sculpture Project.

The Christie’s appraisal team had estimated Ko Hun’s new work at $1.5 million to $2 million, but Adam Gladstone thought he could aim for more.

As Adam Gladstone expected, the auction house began to get noisy.

The news that Ko Hun had won the Münster Sculpture Project started to spread.

In the midst of the disorganized atmosphere, Adam Gladstone started the next auction.

“Thank you for your patience. The next work is Ko Hun’s new work.”

Two Christie’s staff members moved , which was covered with cloth, onto the podium.

“He is the most active artist currently, participating in the Whitney Biennale, the Art Nouveau Competition, and the SNBA Salon Exhibition.”

Everyone knew it well, but they needed to be reminded again.

To raise the value of , Adam Gladstone introduced Ko Hun calmly and seriously.

“Ko Hun, who is loved for his bold strokes and sensual colors, pursues harmony and courage. Last year, he planted flowers with children of various races at the Dali Plaza in Paris, and this year, he organized the first joint exhibition of two countries at the Venice Biennale. He also recently succeeded in narrowing the gap between art and the public through the Münster Sculpture Project.”

He finished his explanation by mentioning the recent news.

Adam Gladstone reached out his hand.

“I present to you Ko Hun’s unpublished new work, Flower.”

The moment the cloth was lifted.

Everyone at the scene was speechless.

How far they could bid, how much more Ko Hun would do, what value the Münster Sculpture Project Citizen Award had.

They forgot all the factors they had been calculating and fell into the canvas.

There were flowers blooming in bunches at the Dali Plaza in Paris, France.

Next to the elegantly bloomed chrysanthemums, the daffodils chirped cutely.

The haughty trumpet flowers and lilacs leaned on each other and enjoyed the sun calmly.

The lush hydrangeas looked down on the water forget-me-nots that bloomed with tiny petals.

The camellias and magnolias showed off their noble posture on the trees.

The tulips with their cheeks flushed.

The pansies stained as if they had dropped paint, and the black petunias smiling brightly.

The flowers that adorned the Dali Plaza showed off their shapes and colors and harmonized with each other.

“Ko Hun said that Flower is the only work that symbolizes the Dali Plaza.”

Adam Gladstone, who thought he had given enough time to appreciate, told the value of .

“In a reality where countless conflicts do not cease around the world, the event at the Dali Plaza seems unreal. And because it contains many flowers, it has all four seasons. But you can see that this strange scene is not a fantasy because it actually happened.”

Adam Gladstone looked around the scene.

“Ko Hun’s Flower, which says that they can be together without compromising their colors and shapes. The starting price of the work that symbolizes the happiness at the Dali Plaza is $1 million.”

The bidders, the media, and the gallery all doubted their ears and eyes.

They couldn’t believe that the starting price was $1 million, not the final price, and yet half of them raised their number plates.

Arsen, who was watching the situation, bit his lower lip.

“Do I have $1.1 million?”

More people raised their number plates than when he called $1 million.

Arsen looked around and checked who was raising their number plates.

Caroline Swede. Jill Norton. Jacqueline Stone. Richard Phillips.

The famous art collectors were still watching the situation.

But they were all ready to join the auction at any time, whispering with their companions.

‘What about Baudouin?’

Arsen found the conductor of the Berlin Philharmonic.

Unlike the others who were bustling around, he calmly sat and admired the .

“Do we have two million dollars?”

As the bidding price reached twice the starting price, the crowd gradually thinned out, but the bidding speed did not slow down at all.

‘The problem is them.’

Arsen glanced at the ones he had been watching.

The self-proclaimed collectors also joined the bidding one by one.

The savvy Christie’s auctioneer did not miss that and the price soared to the sky.

“Four million dollars. Do we have it?”

The number of bidders sharply decreased.

The situation was left to Caroline Swede, the executive and heiress of a world-class hotel brand, Jill Norton, the major shareholder of the top US biotech company, and Richard Phillips, the permanent director of Pineapple Inc.

Fortunately, Bae Dovin seemed to have little interest in the bidding situation.

“I’ll take it for five million dollars.”

Finally, when the hammer price reached five million dollars, only the ones Arsen had been wary of remained.

‘B seems to have no interest.’

He might have come for Egon Schiele, the last work of the auction.

Ko Hun was loved, but he still couldn’t surpass the genius painter of Austria.

‘Then…’

Swede, Norton, and Phillips fought a three-way battle, competing from four million to five million dollars.

‘I’ll wait for them to get tired and drop out.’

Even if they were billionaires who owned billions to tens of billions of dollars, there was a limit to their available capital.

It would vary from person to person, but five million dollars would be close to that level, and it would be a bit nervous.

In such a situation, if a new competitor stepped in, they would feel pressured psychologically.

“I bid five hundred and thirty thousand dollars. Do we have five hundred and thirty thousand dollars?”

Arsen did not hesitate and raised his number plate, judging that it was the right time.

The attention of the scene, which had been shocked, moved, and tense, was drawn to Arsen.

‘Damn. Who is that guy?’

‘Is he planted by Christie? Why now?’

‘…Who is he?’

As the bidders were confused as Arsen expected, the auctioneer who grasped the flow called the price.

“I’ll take it for six million dollars.”

The eyes of the people gathered in the hall were as bright as lanterns.

No matter how much the auctioneer had the right to call the price, it was surprising that he raised it by seven hundred thousand dollars at once.

If he made a mistake, it could be unsold.

But Adam Gladstone was sure.

Ko Hun’s Dallida Square Incident was an event that delivered a message to the world beyond Europe.

He couldn’t trade the Dallida Square that Ko Hun painted with Goseul, Banks, and Idols, so was the only symbol.

There was no way that the symbolic work of a genius painter who would walk a path that no one had ever walked before would stop here.

The collectors would not miss the work that would be recorded in the history of art in one line.

As he predicted, all four bidders raised their number plates.

The chat window of the auction site’s live channel was about to explode.

└Crazyㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

└Will it go to ten million dollars?

└Art Basel is worth it. Six million dollars is insaneㅋㅋㅋ

└Why am I surprised that Henri is not here?

└Me too ㅋㅋㅋㅋ Why is there no one who came out with their eyes flipped for Hoon’s workㅋㅋ

└Wow, crazy. It goes up to nine million.

The auctioneer saw two number plates.

One was the billionaire Caroline Swede and the other was a stranger he had never seen before.

‘I hope it goes to Ms. Swede.’

Adam Gladstone secretly hoped that Caroline Swede, who had a proven identity, would win the bid.

The stranger looked quite wealthy, but he didn’t seem to have the ability to pay more than ten million dollars.

He hoped that the stranger would raise the price as much as possible, and that Swede’s daughter would take the .

The auctioneer carefully raised the price by one hundred thousand dollars each.

Once, twice, three times, four times.

As the auctioneer expected, both sides raised their number plates without hesitation.

“Do you intend to bid nine hundred and forty thousand dollars?”

The auctioneer asked Arsen.

Arsen did not hesitate at all.

The auctioneer, who was visibly surprised, called the price again.

“I’ll take it for nine hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

“…”

Caroline Swede, who had been fighting like a war, hesitated for a moment and raised her number plate.

Adam Gladstone, an excellent auctioneer from Christie’s, did not miss that.

‘This must be their limit.’

That was the only hope I had left. That Noshinsa would either give up on the bid or not have enough money to pay for it.

“9.6 million dollars. How about it?”

Adam Gladstone asked earnestly.

Arsene raised his number plate without hesitation and was about to proceed with the next bid, when Adam Gladstone glanced at Caroline Swede’s expression.

She was visibly grinding her teeth and fuming with anger.

“9.65 million dollars, please.”

Adam Gladstone raised the bid once more, and Caroline Swede, who had been glaring at Arsene, turned her head away.

“9.6 million dollars. 9.6 million dollars, anyone?”

There was no one.

Adam Gladstone also asked out of procedure, but he judged that there was no one else who would bid any higher and lifted the auction hammer.

“I will bid. 9.6 million dollars. 9.6 million dollars.”

Just as he was about to utter the last third bid.

The man who was known to have the greatest wealth in the auction hall raised his number plate for the first time.

“10 million dollars.”

The Swiss Art Basel Christie auction house was turned upside down by the words that Baedovin casually spat out.

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