Return of the Genius Photographer - Chapter 92

“Now, who’s the worst person here?”

The twin lawyers took turns, directing the question at Jin-goo.

“First, a man who assaulted our client, a defenseless high school student and a promising young photographer.”

“A perpetrator who inflicted enough psychological trauma to leave him struggling with a dozen mental health issues and temporarily halt his career.”

Jin-goo turned to Woojin in confusion, as if asking what this was about.

“What… what is this…?”

Woojin only shrugged, just as casually as he had when he first walked in. “That’s how it’s going to be.”

Jin-goo wanted to protest, but the twin lawyers kept going, leaving him speechless.

“Second, a man who filed assault charges against the righteous Kang San, who had no choice but to defend himself.”

“Third, a man who, despite committing such heinous acts, shows up at the police station without a hint of remorse, brazenly exposing his face.”

What on earth were they saying?

“Isn’t this a bit… biased?”

Jin-goo was at a loss.

“No, that’s how we’ll make it.”

“Because we have the means to do so.”

“Take it to court if you want.”

“No matter how much money you spend, you won’t have an easy time beating us.”

“We have a 100% win rate.”

The twin lawyers didn’t skip a beat, asserting their confidence. It was clear they’d handled cases like this dozens of times.

Unable to hold back, Jin-goo glanced at his lawyer, desperate for him to say something—anything. But…

Ever since seeing the twins’ business card, his lawyer had been subdued, nodding silently. He finally grasped Jin-goo’s wrist and murmured, “I don’t usually advise this, but I suggest you settle peacefully.”

“What?”

“They’re not people you’d want to go to court against. They could twist a collar grab into attempted murder.”

Clearly intimidated, Jin-goo’s lawyer couldn’t even make eye contact with the twins. Observing this, Kang San’s lawyer added one last jab.

“If you settle now, we might even throw in a bit of pocket money.”

“We’ll give you five minutes. Have a chat with your lawyer and let us know.”

Something was wrong. Up until he’d walked into this room, Jin-goo had been certain he held the upper hand. But as soon as Woojin and the lawyers entered, the power balance had flipped entirely.

He’d been shocked by the business card with the Hanseong Group’s name, but it didn’t explain why his lawyer was trembling—or why even the investigator watched silently, saying nothing.

His head, already aching from Kang San’s punch, throbbed again.

“Who exactly are these people?”

Once outside the meeting room, Jin-goo confronted his lawyer, who began explaining in a subdued voice.

“You know how Hanseong Group gathers young talent and nurtures them fully, right?”

Jin-goo nodded. He remembered reading articles about Hanseong’s numerous scholarship foundations, all aimed at cultivating young talent—people often called them the ‘Hanseong Kids.’

“Hwadam, the law firm dedicated to Hanseong, is made up of elite ‘Hanseong Kids.’”

“And…?”

“These aren’t people who can be described as just talented!” The lawyer clutched his chest, visibly frustrated.

“Each one of them is a genius in their own right, backed by a company with overwhelming resources. They’re notorious for doing whatever it takes to win—even if it means bending the rules.”

He then sighed and grabbed Jin-goo’s shoulder.

“So, Jin-goo, facing them is like going against Hanseong Group itself. Honestly… if it were me, I’d give up.”

The lawyer’s words spelled despair. No matter how skilled a lawyer was, how could they go up against a corporate law firm backed by a conglomerate? And even if they could somehow win, the legal fees would be astronomical.

Jin-goo, prideful as he was, knew the difference between what was possible and what wasn’t.

The five minutes passed quickly, and Jin-goo returned, pale-faced. In a voice as defeated as a soldier admitting surrender, he muttered weakly, “I’ll settle…”

*****

Since the conclusion of Jin-goo’s lawsuit, time had passed quickly.

As a result, my situation had changed significantly.

I was suddenly acutely aware of the power of broadcasting.

With the influx of work, I found myself clicking the shutter every single day.

—Click!

—Click!

—Click!

Every time I pressed the shutter, the models shifted their poses, filling the frames with vibrant photos.

“Thank you so much for your hard work today, Photographer!”

Once the shoot wrapped up, a satisfied client approached me with a beaming smile.

“Is it already over for today?”

She checked the model list beside her and answered, “Yes, it went by faster than we expected.”

After the Doshuko shoot, the majority of requests that had come in were for model photography.

Whether it was the positive image I had created while working with models on air or simply that my photos had resonated with the clients, I didn’t know. But I received countless requests for model shoots across fashion, children’s portfolios, magazines, and more.

Today’s job was also a profile shoot for models.

This time, it was for a session with the country’s top model agency, Esteem.

“I thought it would take a while since we have quite a few models on our team, but you finished quickly.”

“They’re all exceptional talents, so it wasn’t difficult at all,” I replied calmly.

I had shot a total of twenty models from Esteem.

With a fee of five million won per model, this alone constituted a nearly hundred-million-won business.

Considering that I had spent fifty million won on the Doshuko shoot, I not only recovered that amount but even earned double.

“I heard you’ve been really busy lately.”

“Excuse me?”

“Word is spreading through the industry.”

As I packed up after the shoot, the client grinned widely.

“They say you’re the biggest beneficiary from this Doshuko!”

“Really?”

“They say you’re busier than both the runner-ups…”

The client’s lighthearted teasing made me chuckle awkwardly. They weren’t wrong.

I had truly been overwhelmed with work lately.

Work, work, work…

Since the Doshuko shoot, over half of the phone calls to my studio had been inquiries for my photography.

It was exhausting, but on the upside, I was making good money.

If things continued like this, I wouldn’t have any problems saving for studying abroad.

It seemed like it was time to focus solely on building my portfolio.

‘Speaking of which… what’s going on with Arles?’

After dealing with the Jin-goo situation, I hadn’t had the chance to meet Kang San. I’d been so busy that I hadn’t even received any updates from him.

I found myself waiting in a vague state, expecting a message from him.

With the upcoming Arles International Photography Exhibition, there was a possibility of going with Kang San, but that meant I couldn’t accept every job that came my way.

Even the most lucrative offers had to be turned down if they involved long shooting periods.

‘I should just check with him about the schedule myself.’

Now that the major issues were behind me, I finally had a moment to relax. I decided to reach out to Kang San to confirm whether I’d be attending the Arles Exhibition with him and to clarify the schedule.

Just then, my phone, which I’d stashed in my pocket, buzzed.

“Hmm?”

Seeing the name on the screen, I couldn’t help but smile.

“Looks like you’re not so bad after all.”

It was a call from Kang San.

*****

—Bukhansan

That was the first thing Kang San said when he answered the phone.

He ended the call right after that…

“What does that even mean…?”

I muttered to myself as I headed to Bukhansan right after the shoot.

“Hello, Photographer Kang San.”

Today, Kang San was dressed in hiking clothes, carrying a camera bag—quite different from his usual attire.

“Hey, why are you dressed like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Who wears jeans to hike up a mountain?”

You didn’t even mention we were going hiking…

“Are you planning to climb?”

“Wouldn’t I be?”

“…”

Truly, a man with an impressive “leadership” quality.

I looked up at the sky in response to his words, sighed softly—almost inaudibly—and then answered.

“Alright then… let’s go hike.”

Seeing that I had acquiesced, Kang San looked at me with a satisfied expression.

He seemed to scan my appearance before asking, “Did you just finish a shoot?”

His gaze was fixed on my camera bag.

“Yes, as you can see.”

“Do you think you can manage the hike?”

I looked up at the mountain at his question.

It was a clear, sunny fall day, with not a single cloud in sight.

Bukhansan was displaying its colorful autumn foliage.

“This is nothing…”

It was beautiful, but it didn’t seem that high.

Honestly, I was confident in my hiking abilities.

In my past life, I had climbed as high as the Himalayas.

In fact, I had trekked the notoriously challenging EBC CAMP route, which could only be accessed by professional mountaineers in teams or with Sherpa guides.

But Bukhansan, which barely topped 1,000 meters, was a piece of cake.

Kang San’s satisfied expression returned at my casual reply as he silently began to ascend the mountain.

I followed behind him, and our serious hike up Bukhansan began.

For a full two hours, Kang San climbed without saying a word.

‘He doesn’t even take a break.’

Despite the strain of climbing, he didn’t show any signs of fatigue or stop for even a moment, striding confidently up the mountain.

I thought he might have come just to take pictures, but it seemed he was genuinely here to hike.

‘Is he looking for a specific photo spot?’

I quietly pondered while making sure not to lag behind.

Despite being in hiking attire, he carried a camera, so I figured he would be taking pictures at some point.

However, aside from occasionally checking a map as if he was searching for something, he didn’t seem to focus on anything else.

He even hadn’t pulled out his camera.

‘Is there a shooting location he’s trying to find?’

Just as my curiosity about him grew, he suddenly came to a halt and gestured for me to wait.

“Hold on.”

Just as I was about to reply, he brought his finger to his lips, signaling me to be quiet.

“Shh.”

Then, slowly pulling out his camera, he aimed it at something far off at the base of a tree.

“I found it at last.”

With a serious expression, he focused on the viewfinder.

But when I followed his gaze, all I could see was a small family of squirrels.

The squirrels were busily burying acorns around the tree.

As he watched them, Kang San smiled and continuously clicked the shutter.

‘What is he doing?’

After taking a few shots, he tucked his camera back into the bag.

Noticing me watching silently, he seemed to be in a good mood and explained.

“I stumbled upon this squirrel family by chance last time, but I didn’t get any good shots. So, I came back this time.”

“Ah…”

Then, for the first time, Kang San flashed a bright smile.

‘He really is… quite an unpredictable person.’

Was this the same man who had mercilessly beaten Jin-goo at the bar?

The image of him hitting with that wooden cutlery holder still lingered in my memory.

Seeing him genuinely love those squirrels left me feeling somewhat dazed.

“They turned out cute.”

After checking the photos with a smile, he turned to me with a serious expression.

“Why are you just standing there?”

“Huh?”

“We’re almost at the summit. Hurry up.”

“Yes…”

After that, the hike returned to silence.

Kang San swiftly moved onward toward the summit, and I did my best to keep up.

Soon, we reached the peak of Bukhansan, Baegun-dae.

“Um, Photographer.”

Kang San was now staring at the view without even lifting his camera, seemingly having no purpose aside from admiring the scenery.

I cautiously asked the silent man, “Did you really just call me because there’s no one else to hike with?”

Kang San, who had remained silent with a dull expression, narrowed his eyes at my question and shot back, “Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to be brought to the mountains before getting married?”

“Are you planning to marry me?”

“What kind of nonsense is that? I’m anti-marriage.”

“I’m not thinking about that either.”

Then, chuckling, Kang San replied, “It was just a metaphor.”

“A metaphor?”

He wore the same bright expression he had when looking at the squirrels.

“Congratulations.”

“Pardon?”

He seemed to enjoy my bewilderment.

“Come with me.”

Then he added, “To Arles.”