The Versatile Master Artist

Chapter 114 - 90: Mr. Tree Sloth’s Art Criticism

"Is this the decision of the magazine’s board, or is it your decision, Mr. Brown?"

The girl asked calmly.

"This is... everyone’s decision." Mr. Brown said unhurriedly, "Europe doesn’t only have one long-standing art criticism magazine; the ’Oil Painting’ magazine also faces a lot of market competition."

"Is that so?"

Anna seemed slightly lost in thought.

Sir Brown thought he had persuaded Anna and said in a coaxing tone, "In the past decade, profits for traditional media worldwide have been rapidly declining. Although we are an old publication, the times are different now. Even the newspaper founded by the Queen of Sweden has lost money to the point of ceasing publication. Who would have thought this possible in the past? You’ve seen the annual revenue statements of the magazine."

"This is for our magazine’s common interest." He licked his lips.

"Common interest?"

Anna gazed at the brown walls of the elegantly decorated office.

There hung portraits of successive leaders of the ’Oil Painting’ magazine. The elders of the Ilyena family had all left their images there.

The position on the wall closest to the front belonged to the magazine’s founder, the Old Count. The Count’s portrait was clad in the formal attire of a senior army officer, the standard dress for the Austrian-Hungary nobility in their portraits.

Unlike the ostentatious French Royal Family, Austria-Hungary had a military tradition; even the Emperor liked to dress as a captain daily.

However, the Old Count in the portrait neither held a cavalry saber nor wore a pistol at his waist. He sat sideways behind the walnut long table in the office, holding a small painting frame in his left hand, with a burning pipe between the fingers of his right hand.

Sir Brown noticed Anna’s gaze and tried to reason with her emotionally, "The magazine is the result of generations of hard work by the Ilyena family; you want it to be better too, right? We may be an art magazine, but we are more so a commercial magazine, and a commercial magazine must consider social impact."

"I understand." Anna nodded slightly.

"This is a necessary sacrifice." Sir Brown felt relieved, smiling to ease the previously tense atmosphere. "I know you admire that online artist and have your persistence. But sometimes, to survive until the next spring, even a violin may have to be split into firewood to keep warm. Whether Detective Cat is well-painted or has artistic merit is insignificant in the face of the magazine’s future."

"Go write an apology letter. If you are willing, a phone call would also be fine; I have Van Doorn’s contact."

Sir Brown picked up the phone on the desk.

"No... I refuse." Anna shook her head.

Sir Brown froze, the smile on his face slowly vanishing.

"Child! This is not only for the magazine’s interest, but it’s also for your own good."

He became somewhat angry, "If you had informed me before accepting any Mr. Hibernian’s video shooting invitation, I would never have allowed you to participate in such programs. Why do you think other critics are unwilling to participate in such offensive matters, Anna, have you never thought about it?"

"Please stop your lecturing, Mr. Levinson Brown."

Anna extended her palm to halt Sir Brown’s nagging.

She slightly tilted her head, directly staring into the chairman’s eyes.

"From the moment I stepped into this office, I’ve been constantly enduring your humiliation—tea, coffee, Filipino preserves—do you think this is a conversation... the principal disciplining a disobedient schoolgirl?"

Clearly a young girl, yet Anna’s voice carried authority.

Her tone was cold and capable, making her appear more like the one in charge compared to Sir Brown, whose beard had turned white.

"I’ve had enough of you pretending to be a kindly Priest guiding a lost lamb. Chairman Brown, at least adhere to some workplace etiquette. Call me Lady Yelena or Editor Yelena. I am neither your child nor have I ever allowed you to call me by my name."

"Moreover, you seem to have misunderstood my intent. I did not come to beg for your forgiveness; I simply came to inform you of my dissatisfaction. I am an editor hired by the magazine. Expressing personal opinions in the art field is both my right and my job content. If you don’t like it, you can fire me, but I will not be coerced into changing any of my views. Good is good, and bad is bad. I like Detective Cat, and I dislike Van Doorn—it’s as simple as that."

"Is it unrelated to art, only related to reality? What a damn joke. The reason ’Oil Painting’ magazine has been passed down for two hundred years is not because of financial reports and profit rates, but because of its dedication to art."

Anna said coldly, "I was just thinking if my ancestor were here today, he would definitely throw the pipe in your face and tell you—"

"Everything that happens in this building is only about art."

Anna turned her wheelchair around, leaving the meeting room without any hesitation.

Just after leaving the building and stepping onto the street, her phone vibrated; she received an email from the magazine’s HR department.

"Miss, they wouldn’t really dare to fire you, would they?"

The caregiver’s voice sounded a bit nervous; she had been waiting at the door and heard the argument from the office.

This is a magazine to which several generations of the Ilyena family have dedicated their efforts.

"Leave notice?"

Anna opened her phone, glanced at it, and pursed her lips.

Even though Sir Brown was furious, he ultimately did not have the courage to directly fire Anna.