The Versatile Master Artist

That’s what Van Doorn was thinking.

If the public opinion believes that Anna is essentially a second-generation heir who leveraged her family’s reputation to rise, then the questioning against him becomes irrelevant.

As for the future of that African illustrator, whether he has been treated unjustly.

Who the hell cares?

”Honey, don’t be angry, that crippled bitch from ’Oil Painting’ has already paid the price.”

The assistant chuckled flirtatiously, trying to please.

Being the closest to moving up among the many canaries beside Van Doorn, her emotional intelligence is quite high, ”Besides, although Milan is 30% cheaper than Paris, it’s of higher quality, isn’t it?”

”The bitch has only herself to blame.”

Van Doorn snorted, feeling somewhat comfortably agitated.

The outcome of this affair seems to have come to an end this way.

The intimidation towards ’Oil Painting’ magazine went much smoother than he imagined.

The concern he once had that the art critic Miss might use her connections in the art circle to pressure him didn’t happen.

Apparently,

The once-glorious Ilyena family is now indeed nothing more than a paper tiger.

As for Amida, over these years this fashion brand has become deeply linked with himself.

With such mutually dependent glory and downfall.

It’s not easy to kick him out.

估 He estimates once this wave passes, everything should more or less return to normal.

”Mr. Van Doorn? Mr. Van Doorn? Why did Amida position you at the Milan booth this year instead of Paris as in previous years? Does this signify you are stepping back in the brand designers’ lineup? Is this due to the influence of Mr. Hibernian’s video on YouTube?”

At that moment,

A piercing voice threw a barrage of questions like artillery shells toward Van Doorn.

Van Doorn turned his head and saw an uncle with a camera around his neck jumping off an airport shuttle bus.

The person was shouting while sprinting towards Van Doorn’s location.

”Fuck! What are the airport guards doing, eating shit? How could they let the paparazzi in.”

Van Doorn was extremely annoyed.

He didn’t want to deal with this kind of tabloid reporter, seeing the hotel’s welcome car had already arrived, he prepared to get in.

”I just caught shots of you hitting your female assistant.” The threatening voice of the uncle came from behind.

”Which magazine are you from?”

Van Doorn turned his head, anger in his tone.

He didn’t expect that his unintended action of flicking the cigarette from the female assistant’s hand had actually been caught by someone.

”If you dare to publish that photo, be prepared to be drowned in lawsuits.” Van Doorn scolded.

”Just one question, Mr. Van Doorn, if you seriously answer one question for me, I’ll delete the photo right away.”

The middle-aged uncle raised a finger: ”Please, Mr. Van Doorn, I slipped 200 euros to the shuttle driver, you gotta let me ask something.”

”Which magazine are you from?” Van Doorn asked with a frown.

”Fashion Melange.”

Van Doorn hadn’t heard of this newspaper.

Probably a tabloid.

But tabloids are shameless.

He knew the other’s behavior was already illegal, but this type of tabloid entertainment reporter doesn’t fear lawsuits, doesn’t fear jail, just fears having no news.

Hitting women, such matters can be trivial or significant.

Van Doorn indeed didn’t want to get tangled up in such shitty affairs right now.

”Okay, just one question.”

”And it can’t be those previous ones... if you’re unwilling, see you in court.” Van Doorn said coldly.

Middle-aged reporter held up the mobile phone recorder, thought for a moment: ”Since that’s the case, let’s talk about Detective Cat, you once called him a monkey that plays basic scales. Yet, Curator Tangkis at the Taylor National Art Gallery is willing to accept an invitation to have a serious art discussion with him on Apple Blog, do you have any comments on this behavior? Do you think this is him declaring war against you?”

He pulled up Mr. Tree Sloth’s poster on his phone.

”Declaring war, NO, NO, NO, I am an artist. And he is merely a clumsy printer.”

Van Doorn laughed: ”We are not even on the same track. How can a dwarf declare war on a giant?”