After the Divorce, a Treasure Map Made Me a 1,000-Trillionaire Chapter 12
Min Tae-seung, the appraiser, carefully placed the paintings onto a large table for examination. He began appraising them using various tools, his focus so intense that he didn’t say a single word.
‘He’s concentrating so hard, I can’t even think about interrupting him.’
About an hour later, he gently covered the paintings again with a fine cloth and came over to sit across from me. Then, in a serious tone, he spoke.
“They’re all genuine works by Banksy.”
He paused for a moment, then asked me again.
“By the way, how do you plan to handle these pieces?”
“Well… first, I’d like to know roughly how much they’re worth.”
I had done some preliminary research before coming here, but as expected, the numbers I found online were quite different from reality.
Holding up one hand with fingers spread wide, Min said,
“The two smaller pieces generally sell at auction for about 500 million won each. Compared to other works, these have slightly less rarity value.”
‘Less rarity value, yet 500 million won each? That’s 1 billion won in total…?’
1 billion won—enough to buy a 32-pyeong apartment in Seoul if you negotiate well. My whole body started to tremble.
It felt completely different from when I’d won 10 million won or when the Harry Potter book had sold for 100 million.
Still, I didn’t want to seem too excited, so I asked as calmly as I could,
“Then… how much for the big one?”
It was the largest among the displayed paintings, the canvas nearly as tall as I was.
Min’s expression grew more serious.
“To be honest, we can’t buy that one outright.”
“You can’t? Why? Is it a fake or something?”
“No, nothing like that. It’s just that this piece is difficult for us to price directly—it’s the kind that needs to go to auction.”
“So… you’re saying it’s much more expensive than the smaller ones?”
“Yes. Its value is on a completely different level.”
He glanced toward the painting under the cloth and continued,
“We’ve auctioned Banksy’s works a few times before, but never one of this size. At our auction house, we’ve simply never had anything like it. Honestly, I can’t even imagine what the final price might be.”
“Still… if you had to name a price, what would it be?”
He raised three fingers.
“The minimum I’d estimate… 3 billion won.”
Even 1 billion was more than the average lottery jackpot these days—3 billion was staggering.
Trying to hide my shaking, I asked,
“When’s the soonest auction?”
“In two days. The lineup’s already set, but if you agree to sell through H Auction, I’ll make sure it’s included. And I’ll lower our commission from the usual 12% to 8%—that’s the best I can do.”
At 3 billion, a 12% commission would be 360 million won. He was offering to cut that by 120 million. And he’d squeeze it into an already scheduled auction in just two days.
“That’s… quite an offer. Is Banksy really that significant?”
“Absolutely! He’s one of the most popular living artists today. I guarantee it will sell for a high price in two days.”
He got so excited that his voice rose before he quickly apologized.
“Ah, sorry—I got carried away.”
“But… may I ask you something?”
“Did you happen to buy these from that street art piece featured on the news yesterday?”
“Yes. I was passing by, saw it, and bought it.”
“You didn’t know it was a Banksy?”
I chuckled and nodded.
“No, but I have a good instinct for these things.”
He gave me a half-bewildered smile.
“Instinct, huh… I’m jealous. Listen, if you ever need a dedicated appraiser, please contact me.”
“A… dedicated appraiser?”
His gaze was serious.
“I just feel like working with you might be my ticket to big success.”
I hadn’t considered it before, but if this treasure map kept leading to bigger finds, working as a team might be worth thinking about.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Thank you. I’ll have your painting ready for auction in two days.”
We signed a simple contract, shook hands, and I stood up.
“Please take good care of it.”
Then it occurred to me—it was my item being auctioned, so of course I wanted to see it happen.
“By the way, can I attend the auction?”
“Of course. Come that day and we’ll give you a pass.”
“Thanks. See you in two days.”
Two Days Later — H Auction March Regular Auction
The grand hall of H Auction was like a mix between an opera house and a cinema. After getting my pass and stepping inside, I saw the room was already full.
Most guests wore expensive suits or dresses—it was clearly a high-end affair.
‘Glad I wore a suit…’
If I’d come in jeans and a T-shirt, I’d probably have been kicked out.
I took my seat, overhearing whispers from the row in front.
“Hey, Kim, anything good today?”
“They say there’s a piece by Jeon Seung-su.”
“Oh? It’s been a while since something decent showed up.”
“Not much… Wait—huh?”
One man flipped through the pamphlet.
“There’s something listed after Jeon’s piece… says ‘Special Auction.’”
“Special Auction? So it’s more expensive than Jeon’s?”
“I haven’t heard of anything big coming in lately…”
I’d never heard of him, but judging by their reactions, he was famous. Still, if mine was in the “special” slot after his, it had to be worth more.
The auctioneer entered—a well-dressed woman in a sleek dress suit, perfectly suited for the event.
“Welcome to H Auction’s March regular auction. I’m your auctioneer, Kim Ji-hye. Let’s begin.”
No lengthy speeches—time was money here.
“The first piece: ‘Seoul’ by rising artist Lee Hyun-woo. Starting bid, 1 million won. Increments of 50,000 won.”
‘1 million? Guess he’s not that famous yet.’
Still, the price shot up fast.
“1 million! 1.05! 1.1—200!”
“200 million won! Increments now 100,000!”
The pace was dizzying, the energy more intense than a sports match.
In the end, a middle-aged woman snagged it for 10 million won.
‘This is… actually really fun.’
More lots followed—antiques, jewelry, books—ranging from 5 million to 100 million won, with some failing to sell.
Finally, Jeon Seung-su’s The World came up, starting at 100 million won. The bids leapt quickly: 110, 120… all the way to 300 million, taken again by the same middle-aged woman.
The audience began to leave, thinking it was over—until the auctioneer stopped them.
“Please remain seated—we have one last special lot.”
Chatter rippled through the hall.
Moments later, two men carried in my paintings. Murmurs spread.
“What’s so special they kept it hidden?”
The auctioneer grinned and announced,
“Ladies and gentlemen—three works by none other than Banksy!”
“Wait… isn’t that the one from the news?”
“I heard it went to America…”
Phones whipped out as people barked orders to assistants and spouses.
“Get cash ready—now!”
“This size is rare even overseas!”
The atmosphere surged with electric energy.
‘What is this…? This might go way beyond my expectations…’