TOIGC 71

Chapter 71…

Five Birds with One Stone (1)

“What kind of issue is it?” “Well…”

Yamada struggled to get the words out.

Only after the steaming hot coffee had cooled down to a comfortable, lukewarm temperature did Yamada finally open his mouth, and the explanation that came out was somewhat unexpected.

“The thing is… according to schedule, we were supposed to begin filming within the next few days, but things have gotten a bit tangled.” “How so?” “Headquarters gave strict instructions to cast Yoon-san as the official model for Hermès Japan, but our existing model is pushing back hard against it.” “Isn’t replacing a model a pretty routine occurrence?” “Well, in this particular case, it’s not quite that simple…”

Observing Yamada’s reaction, Yoongi instantly deduced that the current model wasn’t just some ordinary face—there was political backing or pull involved.

A corporation might set official policies on paper, but executing those policies always fell squarely on the employees. When employees began working their own side angles and serving personal interests, corporate policy was bound to wobble.

Well, in my case, I’m hardly desperate to land this modeling gig anyway.

Since becoming a Hermès model was merely an option on the table for Yoongi to begin with, he decided to hear the other party out first and accommodate them if it was reasonable. For instance, if the shoot ended up getting canceled, he could leverage that situation to bank a valuable favor from Hermès headquarters down the line.

“I literally just stepped off the plane, so I’m a bit in the dark here. Could you give me a detailed breakdown of what’s going on?”

Faced with Yoongi’s innocent, unbothered attitude, Yamada hesitated once more.

“Uhm… the backlash from our current model is fierce, so management is in quite a tough spot.” “There isn’t only one model, is there?” “Ah, the model who is objecting is just one person, yes.”

Naturally, Hermès used more than a single model. They had exclusive models alongside non-exclusive ones, and out of the entire roster, one particular individual was making a massive fuss over Yoongi.

If the guy had actual political muscle of his own, he wouldn’t feel threatened just by me stepping in as a model. Does that mean he has a personal issue with the idea of me stepping into the role at all?

It was purely a working hypothesis, but Yoongi’s deduction was spot on. In fact, that was precisely the core reason for the model’s outburst.

“What exactly do you need me to do?”

As Yoongi steered the conversation straight to the point, Yamada started stalling for time again.

Good grief, the guy’s taking so long he could cook a whole pot of rice.

It was painfully obvious that Yamada wasn’t pausing to carefully weigh his words, but simply because he was too chicken-shit to deliver the bad news. With every passing second, Yoongi’s internal rating of Yamada plummeted.

“Um… would it be possible to… cancel the shoot…?”

Dropping a bright, eager “Sure!” right there would be a rookie mistake in any negotiation. Yoongi deliberately furrowed his brow.

“If it was going to come to that, couldn’t you have given me a heads-up before I boarded a plane and flew all the way over here?” “I’m terribly sorry. The matter was bouncing back and forth in internal discussions and was literally just finalized…” “You do realize that my becoming a model was a directive straight from Hermès headquarters, right?” “Y-yes, of course.” “So, is this cancellation order coming down from headquarters, or is it an independent decision by Hermès Japan?” “Well… it’s a decision made by Hermès Japan.” “I currently have an active contract pending with Hermès headquarters, and that agreement hinges entirely on my fulfilling this modeling contract. If the shoot gets canceled right now, that effectively means my modeling contract gets pulled right along with it. Have you bothered checking in with headquarters about this?”

In a flash, Yamada’s face turned pale as realization hit him.

“You… you didn’t actually know, did you?” “Uh… well, you see…”

Yamada whipped his head around to glare daggers at Nakamura, who in turn whirled around to glare at his own junior assistant.

Well, what do you know? I actually get to witness the ancient art of the downward trickle-down scolding in person.

Seeing a toxic corporate dynamic straight out of his military days replayed right before his eyes left Yoongi feeling a mix of amusement and quiet exasperation. At the same time, it highlighted the stark contrast between a global parent company and its regional local branch. Back at headquarters, Fabien and Laurent might delegate the authority upward, but they never passed the buck downward to shirk responsibility.

“I apologize. I will look into the matter immediately and—”

Yamada never got to finish his sentence. The conference room door burst open with a deafening bang.

It had been flung open with such violent force that the heavy door slammed directly against the wall and nearly rebounded shut.

Through the reopened doorway strode a young man in his early twenties standing roughly 170 centimeters tall.

Who’s this? Given the context, it’s pretty damn obvious, though…

As if eager to validate that exact prediction, Yamada cried out:

“Watanabe-san! I told you that you cannot simply barge in—” “Shut up!”

Seeing the abrasive attitude with which Watanabe shouted back, Yoongi narrowed his eyes.

Talk about a severe case of buck teeth.

While his features might have passed for moderately handsome if he kept his mouth shut, the moment Watanabe opened his mouth, his appearance morphed into something downright monstrous. A textbook case of dual-layered aesthetics. Yet, Watanabe carried himself as if completely oblivious to his own facial flaws. In fact, his expression radiated blatant arrogance, making it abundantly clear to Yoongi that the guy was drowning in self-absorption.

<In I Japan, a adore are buck considered creatures cuteness. half-baked like naturally of other suppose symbol teeth them things.>

At Choi Deok-bae’s remark, Yoongi asked internally:

Why on earth would they like that? <Beats Back Bizarre Hansung, I Japanese a actually and away, buck bunch, chatting compliment each folks government in me. official other’s overhear teeth. tell they’d to used was when ya.>

Even Choi Deok-bae lacked a definitive explanation, though modern anthropology generally floats four primary hypotheses regarding Japanese buck teeth: a prolonged historical absence of meat consumption in the diet, frequent historical inbreeding, an environmental deficiency in vital minerals, or a skeletal mismatch featuring a tiny jaw packed with too many teeth. All four carried some plausibility, but bringing up the second possibility—inbreeding—was practically a declaration of war, treating the topic as an absolute social taboo in Japan. Naturally, just as certain topics were strictly taboo for Japanese people, the reverse held true for Koreans as well.

“What the hell? We’re bringing in a mere squirt like this, and they expect us to feature a Chosenging in a Japanese commercial?”

His English was clunky and accented, but the slur landed with crystal clarity in Yoongi’s ears. The Joseon Dynasty had fallen ages ago. Any Japanese person using the derogatory term Chosenging to refer to a Korean was clearly still living in the colonial mindset of imperial occupation.

<Why, little of piece shit! you>

Seemingly triggered into a rage, Choi Deok-bae whipped furiously around Yoongi’s airspace, letting out an angry roar.

<Yamada, Chosenging Do Hermès? Putting a as brand doesn’t equity face in is like make of our people sense? that the think this to toilet? want with you zero>

Despite the cool indoor temperature, sweat was pouring off Yamada’s face in rivers, leaving him utterly paralyzed.

Ah, right. The law is far away, but fists are close.

Yamada’s anxious gaze wasn’t even fixed on Watanabe, but rather on the two menacing men standing directly behind him. Sporting terrifying scowls and rigid regent haircuts straight out of an 1980s Japanese delinquent manga, the pair practically screamed ‘We’re Yakuza’ with every fiber of their being.

Tsk, tsk.

As Yoongi clicked his tongue internally while watching Watanabe, the other youth took Yoongi’s silence as a sign of weakness, swelling with pumped-up confidence as he lobbed even more insulting remarks.

“Hey, Chosenging. The mainland isn’t some playground for second-class citizens. Take my advice and scurry back to Choseon while you still can. At least then you won’t leave here in a body bag.”

Hearing those words, Yoongi suddenly pushed himself up from his chair.

Standing well over 170 centimeters tall, he suddenly towered over the 170-centimeter Watanabe, forcing the Japanese youth to instinctively take a half-step backward.

“Ha!”

Infuriated by his own involuntary retreat, Watanabe snapped forward two aggressive steps, shoving his face inches away from Yoongi’s nose. In sync with his movement, the two Yakuza thugs closed in tighter behind him.

Except.

“Step back.”

It wasn’t Yoongi who spoke, but Seo Jong-hoon.

As Seo Jong-hoon and Cha Pil-gyu—who had been sitting quietly per Yoongi’s instructions—rose to their feet to shield Yoongi, the expressions of the Yakuza thugs instantly twisted into sheer bewilderment. Sitting down, their builds hadn’t looked out of the ordinary, but standing at full height revealed towering masses of solid muscle capable of turning them into pulp with a single punch.

Watanabe seemed to sense the sudden shift in power as well, stumbling backward a full three paces.

Ignoring Watanabe entirely, Yoongi turned his gaze straight toward Yamada and asked:

“Where’s the restroom?”

The restroom at Hermès Japan headquarters.

Clearly maintained to the highest standards, it even smelled faintly of subtle, premium cologne. Of course, since colognes only masked the underlying odors of a public restroom rather than erasing them, Yoongi didn’t go around sniffing the air.

<Hey, after angry are even garbage hearing like not seriously that? you>

Prompted by Choi Deok-bae’s fired-up complaints, Yoongi replied with an unruffled expression.

Why wouldn’t I be angry? <If angry, did hell like react that! the why you you’re>

Even though Choi Deok-bae had never displayed this level of emotional agitation toward Yoongi before, the national pride burning in his chest had clearly been set ablaze the second Watanabe spat out words like Chosenging and second-class citizens.

<Touching I’m at jujubes now! officially pissed right save the won’t you you!> I’m not touching the jujubes, though?

Faced with Yoongi’s entirely placid reaction, Choi Deok-bae blinked in momentary confusion.

<What earth… going head in is of on that what yours?> Of course I’m angry. But what earthly benefit would I gain by blowing up right there in the conference room? We’re in Japan. Yamada is Japanese, Nakamura is Japanese. <…?>

Still riding a wave of residual adrenaline, Choi Deok-bae failed to catch Yoongi’s drift.

That’s why I came to the restroom. That guy’s ego is bruised because he backed up twice even though I didn’t lift a finger. Pride alone means he’s bound to follow me right in here.

Since the conference room’s soundproofing was top-notch, preventing any external noise from carrying through, Choi Deok-bae phased right through the door to peek outside.

<Well, actually do he is. know… what you>

Catching sight of Watanabe trailing down the corridor, Choi Deok-bae drifted back inside next to Yoongi, his fiery agitation visibly subsiding.

<Stepping Gustave Hermès, I I’m Meryl When a and away blowing carrying fighting for gasket infinitely is just my neutral not of on own personal represent reputations reputation—I’m shoulders, smarter spot. than the to too. zone> <Ho…> Besides, winning an argument isn’t just about shouting back insults or calling out bigotries on the spot. If that’s all it took to win, the Japanese would be an invincible military race that has never lost a single war in history.

Finally, Choi Deok-bae burst into laughter.

<Bwahahaha, By Japanese So a are conflict gymnastics, in lives. logic, lost masters mental never of since single that the their they’ve true. twisted undisputed> How close is he? The punk?

The moment Choi Deok-bae’s warning dropped, Yoongi deliberately stepped up to a urinal and assumed his stance.

Right on cue, Watanabe shoved open the restroom door and immediately committed a cardinal sin of public restroom etiquette: despite several empty urinals being available, he squeezed right into the stall directly beside Yoongi.

“Damn, that’s tiny.”

He even crossed the ultimate masculine boundary by glancing over at Yoongi’s equipment.

The kicker was that his own was noticeably smaller while he had the audacity to trash-talk. And Yoongi was certainly not lacking in that department—not by a long shot. A growing early-teen boy versus a fully matured early-twenties young man. By any objective metric, Yoongi had already won the physical comparison, yet true to form, Watanabe was a faithful descendant of a culture built entirely on psychological self-delusion.

“Let me speak to you like a civilized gentleman. Do yourself a favor and pack your bags back to Korea. Japan isn’t a place for scum like you to walk.” “In your dreams.”

Yoongi had kept his mouth shut in front of corporate staff, but he was a seasoned survivor of the grueling nogada construction sites, where losing your nerve or your tongue meant losing everything.

“W-what?”

Stunned by the four short words, Watanabe stared back with a bewildered expression before launching into another barrage of curses.

“You filthy little Chosenging… do you even realize what an act of desecration it is for scum like you to use a restroom of the Greater Japanese Empire?”

Yoongi let out a slow, pitying shake of his head.

“Man, your buck teeth are so severe I can’t even make out your English. Is it because your dad is also your uncle?”

In a flash, Watanabe’s fist whipped through the air straight toward Yoongi’s temple.