Diamond Dust - 10

Honestly, I suspected that Phantom might be one of those galleries started with the idea of flaunting a gallery owner’s business card.

Not because of any other reason, but because the representative of Phantom seemed to come from a sufficiently wealthy family and did not display any business desperation or obsequiousness in dealing with clients.

The polite and friendly service smile remained on his face, but that was all there was to it.

In fact, the people around him showed him more affection, while those who seemed to have less personal connection with him were waiting for a chance to get closer. Even to my dull eyes, the atmosphere was quite clear.

Putting aside his sharp attitude shown from yesterday to now, I mentally apologized to him for the image I had vaguely guessed—a “young master who got everything easily with his parents’ money.”

I didn’t think starting something based on one’s parents’ wealth was particularly wrong, but it was true that achievements built with one’s own efforts have a different value.

Whether he brought Phantom up from scratch or had some help from his family, I couldn’t tell. But it was clear that it wasn’t a sandcastle built easily with huge capital and inherited connections.

After I entered the desk area, someone finally took a pamphlet. It was a woman wearing large sunglasses that covered half her face. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t the sunglasses that were large but her face that was small. Perhaps she was an actress or a singer I didn’t recognize.

As the woman who took the pamphlet went inside, calling someone’s name with a cheerful voice, Mr. Juhan informed me that she was a popular actress, but I hadn’t heard of her before.

“Anyway, because of the way our representative operates, he’s considered a complete heretic or troublemaker in the art world… almost like Satan. They say the blue-eyed golden alpha seduces people with pheromones to sell paintings and has dragged down the dignity of art. Some critics even said he’s like a male courtesan selling art with his body.”

Mr. Juhan resumed the earlier topic, raising his fist as if he wanted to grab the critic who made those remarks. He looked genuinely upset.

However, the subject of the story, the representative of Phantom, was surrounded by many people, smiling like a painting.

Although this was a gallery for exhibiting and selling artworks, most of the people there were more interested in him than in the paintings.

A middle-aged woman dressed in a tweed two-piece subtly flaunted her connection by lightly hooking her arm around his. People’s expressions conveyed a mix of envy and timing, reminiscent of elementary school days when one tried hard to catch a teacher’s attention.

The representative of Phantom, as if unaware of the tangled desires surrounding him, skillfully and pleasantly adjusted the mood with his charm.

Or perhaps he was accurately aware of the intensity and direction of these desires and was skillfully managing the entanglement.

If I were to point out that “blue-eyed golden alpha who sells paintings with pheromones” comment, his eyes weren’t just plain blue. They seemed more like pale blue, as if they were sun-tanned or lightened from excessive crying.

The color was clear enough to resemble a gemstone but didn’t feel as vibrant—more delicate and alive, like foam on sand rising from the waves. It seemed like it could break and disappear at any moment.

This was actually quite different from the impression of strength and arrogance he exuded.

“But our representative doesn’t release pheromones. I don’t know about his private life, but usually he doesn’t. His control ability is so high that even golden omegas can barely detect it. Oh, do you know about golden alphas?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Not interested?”

Among the numerous betas, there’s hardly anyone who isn’t interested in alphas or omegas. Sometimes it’s curiosity about their second gender, sometimes admiration for their generally glamorous appearance and exceptional talents, or sometimes just a simple and light interest in something unusual.

Even though I thought he had a somewhat “unpleasant” personality, my curiosity about whether he might be a golden alpha because of his unique presence made me answer that I was interested.

Yes, he was indeed a golden alpha. It was a result that fit my expectations almost too well. His appearance was so big, strong, and beautiful that he could have been a mascot for golden alphas.

But that he didn’t release pheromones was new information to me.

“Alpha and omega are ultimately about reproductive abilities… not something to discuss in detail here. Anyway, our representative is not at a level where pheromones are released involuntarily or where he reacts to others’ pheromones uncontrollably. Many betas discriminate against alphas and omegas, calling them beasts ruled by instincts who abandon their humanity. But a golden alpha can even control their pheromone lust, so there’s no justification for such discrimination. Yet, they still criticize. They keep talking about pheromone business and so on. It’s ridiculous to see who’s talking about dignity.”

Although Mo Sand was the only alpha around me, she wasn’t the type to talk much about her alpha status. I also didn’t have enough interest to research alphas and omegas.

The information about golden alphas and Phantom’s representative was likely well-known in the industry, and Juhan’s talk was probably just filler for an outsider like me. Yet, more than half of it was information I didn’t know.

“It’s impressive. Being a golden alpha isn’t just about being born that way; over 50 percent of it is completed through personal training. So, he must have trained to handle his instincts from puberty to reach this level. Even though he smiles as if everything is easy… it’s not ordinary toughness.”

Mr. Juhan sipped his champagne while keeping his gaze fixed on the representative.

Following Mr. Juhan’s gaze, the man continued to lead the atmosphere as the center of the group—skilfully and sweetly.

As the owner and host of the party, his smile was fair to everyone, but it had a different warmth from ordinary smiles, which could easily mislead those who weren’t immune to it.

Contrary to the hostile attitude he showed me, I tried to imagine the kind man, who treated each guest warmly like sunlight, pushing himself and undergoing lonely internal training where no one could see. But it was difficult to picture.

I heard the sound of Mr. Juhan biting into another cookie nearby.

“But I like that. Becoming extremely determined to get what you want. Looking relaxed on the outside, but struggling fiercely beneath the surface to get what you desire.”

Crunching the cookie crisply, Mr. Juhan smiled.

Was it really like that?

Did he have that desperate struggle beneath the surface, fighting tooth and nail?

It was hard to imagine with his current relaxed and seemingly born ruler demeanor.

Even now, standing with a slightly crossed leg and holding a champagne glass while smiling, he looked like a natural-born leader.

Trying to imagine him putting in immense effort beneath the surface, I oddly thought of him pedaling a duck boat at an amusement park. Even though it didn’t suit him at all, it was actually easier to imagine.

My imagination, lost in direction, was momentarily interrupted by the appearance of Ms. Yuni, who staggered almost as if she were wearing high-heeled platform sandals, approaching the desk.

“Here. Two sold-out pieces.”

With an extremely tired face, she threw a small notebook onto the desk. Mr. Juhan, looking pleased, picked up the notebook.

“Already? You’re indeed a pro. Shall we switch?”

“Yeah. I’ll have a spasm on my lip.”

“Okay.”

Mr. Juhan, full of enthusiasm like a candidate waiting for his chance, took Ms. Yuni’s place and headed to the exhibition hall.

It seemed that Ms. Yuni had managed to sell two high-priced pieces after dealing with customers, which must have made her lip twitch. Since I worked on the captions with her yesterday, I had a rough idea of the prices of the pieces displayed here. To sell two such expensive pieces in less than an hour, as Mr. Juhan said, she was indeed skilled.

“Would you like me to bring you a drink?”

Lacking the energy to reply, Ms. Yuni nodded while sitting on the chair behind the desk, tapping her legs.

“We have juice and many types.”

“Alcohol. Bring me some alcohol.”

“Is champagne okay?”

“Not in a glass, but filled to the rim in a water glass.”

As I poured the champagne into the largest glass as she instructed and returned to the desk, the teacher, who was about sixteen steps away from the desk, slightly raised his voice towards us. Since the entire exhibition hall was noisy, it wasn’t an unusually bothersome tone.

“Ms. Yuni, could you bring the editor’s book from the office? It should be in my bag.”

I handed her the glass, stopping her from reflexively rising from her seat.

“I’ll get it. I know where it is.”

I hurried down the stairs and took the book from where I had placed it earlier. After handing it to the teacher and returning to the desk, I felt like a student showing off copied homework to the teacher. Even though I wasn’t trying to pull off a big scam, I was unnervingly anxious and found it hard to look that way.

“Manager Han, did you even underline it? You’re amazing. There’s a difference. Many people buy books just to get them signed, but don’t actually read the content. But our Manager Han doesn’t treat people like that. He has sincerity. That’s why I can’t help but open my wallet when I come to Phantom.”

Fortunately, the teacher didn’t seem to notice the “copied homework.” He even praised it.

Ms. Yuni, who drank half of the champagne as if it were grape juice, looked up at me with wide eyes, just as Mr. Juhan had done earlier.

“Did you underline it while I was gone?”

I nodded at her whispering question, and a refreshing smile returned.

Whether she had planned to buy it from the start or made a spontaneous decision due to her elevated mood, the editor of the powerful magazine showed strong interest in buying a painting suitable for her recently promoted daughter’s office.

“It’s funny that such a small thing makes her so happy, isn’t it? But that’s how it is here. Even though we’re selling paintings, sometimes it feels like we’re just handling people’s emotions. To put it nicely, it’s a job where sales are important, and more directly, it’s about pleasing people. Sometimes it feels almost disillusioning.”

As Ms. Yuni bitterly smiled while watching the editor’s back as they moved to another section with the teacher to check the recommended pieces, she was called back to the exhibition hall. The socializing time had passed, and it was time to promote the paintings, the main focus of the day.