"Can you drop the exclusive agency rights?"

Professor Yajima devoured three bites of the roast on his plate, tossed aside the skewer, and after glancing at the approaching agent for a few seconds, asked leisurely.

"It’s not quite right to say that, of course, we still want it. Professor Yajima, fifty million dollars, any gallery offering such a big contract would demand exclusive rights."

Hanks chuckled awkwardly.

The so-called exclusive agency means that the contracted artist can only collaborate with their gallery during the contract period.

Whether it’s selling works, exhibiting, or auctioning, it all has to go through Ma Shi Gallery’s channels.

Only then can they be considered the gallery’s representing artist.

Otherwise, while they’re going all out to promote Uncle Sakai, he could turn around and sell his paintings through another gallery, or even bypass the gallery and contact auction houses directly.

Ma Shi Gallery would be like a fool whose wife spends the hard-earned salary he turned over on flirting with a gym trainer.

"Four years, fifty million dollars, that’s already very sincere."

Hanks really wanted to sign this great artist, whose fat was ten times more valuable by weight than gold.

The art business is supposed to be a market dictated by the galleries.

There were plenty of art students dreaming of becoming artists, many willing to sign soul-sucking contracts.

But the higher you go, the more say the artist has, and galleries scramble to snag artists.

Five hundred thousand dollars for a piece, slowly flip it for a million, a masterpiece might earn a few million on one painting.

To prevent competitors from poaching, the breach penalty for internationally renowned artists can easily reach nine figures.

In the high-yield golden creative age among first-class great painters in the industry, only a few have contracts about to end.

Uncle Sakai will end his seventeen-year partnership with Ota Art Gallery this September, potentially the only well-known artist yet to announce a new contract.

Gallery hunters are swooping in madly to express their negotiation intentions, with Xiaosong Gallery in Osaka reportedly having the best chance.

Yakai Ichiro, on the other hand, seemed not too hurried, even sending perfunctory, formulaic emails in response to gallery vendors.

After Hanks Ma Shi flew specially to Japan, he didn’t even meet the man himself.

He found out that Professor Yajima liked to run to this small barbecue place for a late-night snack.

To make this deal, Hanks was going all out, resting at the hotel by day, camping at the 24-hour Starbucks in front of the barbecue shop at night.

After staking out for over half a week, he finally caught sight of Professor Yakai Ichiro’s chubby figure.

"Boss, bring a bottle of sake, the best one," Hanks waved at the head chef.

They sat in a secluded corner of the barbecue bar.

Apart from Master Takatani, there weren’t many customers at this hour, and the nearby security seemed pretty good too.

Hanks signaled the chef to fetch the sake, looked left and right, and then took out a delicate automatic chain box from his handbag.

He layered three levels of clean napkins and slid it across the black counter.

"Ma Shi Gallery collaborates with Richard Mille, and this watch is a small gift from Ma Shi III to you, with no disrespect intended."

The watch box bore the logo of art-grade watchmaker Richard Mille, famed for producing top-tier ultra-thin mechanical watches.

In specialty stores, a watch of this caliber starts at fifteen thousand dollars.

Of course, Ma Shi Gallery received this watch for free.

Luxury brands and watchmakers are traditional sponsors of galleries and art museums.

Hanks hoped to bridge a connection with this luxury watch.

Apart from watches referred to as men’s cosmetics, he didn’t know what else to gift Uncle Sakai.

Learning to please great artists is almost a fundamental skill for hunters and agents.

There are tragic stories of partying leading to heart attacks, getting famous diseases with models, or breaking legs on mountain treks...

The main issue was that Uncle Sakai’s hobbies were too down-to-earth.

Some artists love antique cars, beauties, handsome men, yachts, hunting lions in Africa... well, forget that; decades ago, hunting was a classy hobby, but these days conservation groups make it tough.

Anyway, such demands are manageable,

even if you wanted to go to space, as long as you bring enough profit, a seven-day tour of the International Space Station isn’t out of the question.

But liking to eat... even with the resolve to accompany the client unto death, Hanks could only nibble on a couple of grilled garlic skewers.

Even in such a cheap eatery, Hanks glanced at the price list, losing any interest in hosting.

"That’s not necessary."

Uncle Sakai, accustomed to agents’ gestures, didn’t even intend to open the watch box, shaking his wrist with a five hundred dollar Apple Watch: "Got used to wearing this, my wife checks my activity logs regularly."

Just then, the phone on the bar suddenly rang.

Professor Yajima saw the number on it.

Originally placid, the uncle’s fourth chin visibly quaked with fat.

He gestured for silence towards both Master Takatani and Hanks.

Waited for a dozen seconds before cautiously answering the phone.

"Ichiro? Have you been managing your diet and daily routine well, maintaining exercise?" Mrs. Sakai opened with a playful dig on the phone.