Tell me this

* * * *

Tell me this:

Let me love her when I gaze upon my lady.

Let my eyes truly see her beauty.

Let loveliness dwell within me.

...All the beauty you have discovered is hers, yet in brilliance it grows and ascends through human eyes to the soul above.

— Excerpt from a sonnet written by Michelangelo, circa 1530 —

* * * *

September 22nd.

At noon, a school of white clouds swirled across the blue autumn sky like fish.

The place Kang-seok was heading to was Yongshin Land.

Director Jin Do-wook of the Bloom Art Museum had expressed interest in commissioning Kang-seok on behalf of the San-gang Group. Kang-seok had agreed to meet him, but the meeting couldn't happen right away.

— "I'll set up a meeting as soon as possible and get back to you!"

Recalling Director Jin's excited voice, Kang-seok gave a dry chuckle. It might actually happen sooner than expected.

"Master!"

Someone approached Kang-seok as he was lost in thought. Even without seeing their face, he knew who it was—there was only one person who called him 'Master.'

"Boss."

Kang-seok still referred to Jo Dong-beom simply as the glass studio owner.

"It's been a while."

"Haha, it has, hasn't it?"

Jo Dong-beom looked at Kang-seok with sparkling eyes. For a man with such a mature appearance, those sparkling eyes were rather unsettling—but Kang-seok didn't show it.

"The day before yesterday, I saw the Gwanghwa Yeorae-bul enshrined at Bongeunsa Temple. It was unbelievable. Just looking at it... how do I put it... I felt like I was developing a sense of Buddhist devotion that I never had."

"Really?"

"Yes. Social media is going wild over it. Want to see?"

Over Jo Dong-beom's shoulder as he fiddled with his phone, a truck was visible—clearly the same one he'd brought from the glass studio. The truck bed was already packed full of cargo.

"It's okay."

Kang-seok lightly patted his aching knees and glanced over the truck covered in a white waterproof tarp.

Everything under that tarp was likely the pieces he had requested to be made in advance at the studio.

To be precise, they had begun making things ahead of time—like shaping glass or working with resin and paint—based on the renovation plans once construction was completed, to speed up the work.

"Still, thank you for bringing it all here. With the weekend and holidays coming up, I'm sure you're swamped…"

"No, no! This is my job. Didn't I say so before? I'll take care of everything for you!"

Kang-seok blinked.

— "Master! I'm good at lifting heavy stuff and I don't complain about hard work. I'm also great at cleaning and cooking!"

Kang-seok couldn't help but smile, remembering how Jo Dong-beom had enthusiastically campaigned to become his student. Just then, Jo Dong-beom raised his hand as if shielding his eyes from the sun.

"Recharge your sugar levels, Master."

"Thank you."

It was a chocolate bar.

As Kang-seok bowed slightly and accepted the chocolate, Jo Dong-beom blinked, almost overcome with emotion. He'd seemed oddly excited from earlier—maybe even thrilled.

Just as suspicion crept into Kang-seok's mind, Jo Dong-beom turned to him.

"Master, you asked me to bring what you were working on, so I brought the butterflies too… You're going to decorate the abandoned building with those today, right?"

"Yes. That's the plan."

That had been the point of doing all that work ahead of time in Jo Dong-beom's studio. Kang-seok nodded, and Jo Dong-beom's face lit up like a field of blooming flowers.

With his rugged beard and wild-man appearance, his delighted face gave off an oddly intense vibe.

He must be really looking forward to decorating that abandoned building.

Come to think of it—wasn't it at the ecological park? He'd also been deeply moved just by seeing butterflies drawn with cheap colored pencils. Of course, Kang-seok had been happy his message came across so clearly.

Recalling that moment from about a month ago, Kang-seok stepped into Yongshin Land.

Whether because they had arranged the visit for this time in advance, or simply because other people needed access to the area, the entrance to Yongshin Land was wide open.

With Jo Dong-beom hurrying behind him, Kang-seok strolled through the park.

Remodeling and Reopening of Yongshin Land Theme Studio.

The banner caught Kang-seok's eye.

Most of the rides were still old and worn-out, which was only natural.

Seeing as no rides have been repaired, it looks like the state is going to repurpose the park purely as a theme studio.

Assessing the situation, Kang-seok looked around. The aged rides and gloomy atmosphere gave the place a rundown, even eerie feeling.

What's changed here?

With his unusually sharp memory for anything art-related, Kang-seok scanned the surroundings, comparing them to his memories from a previous visit.

There were anywhere from a few to dozens of changes.

If he had to sum it up: unlike when he visited Ransin Land, this place now felt full of energy.

The biggest change must be the murals.

With the vibrant and bright colors painted on the rides and walls, the theme park's atmosphere had completely transformed.

It felt like a well-maintained secondhand item—still used, but cherished.

Nodding to himself, Kang-seok slowly walked further into the park.

That's when it happened.

"Is that Kang-seok?"

"…That Kang-seok? The one who made the Gwanghwa Yeorae-bul?"

"Yeah. The high schooler who painted The Creation of Adam in fresco."

"What? He recreated The Creation of Adam in fresco?"

"...Wait. Are you saying the guy who carved Gwanghwa Yeorae-bul is the same one who painted The Creation of Adam?"

"You didn't know?"

"...Wow."

A woman painting a wall with a brush dropped her jaw in disbelief. Just because someone excels in one field doesn't mean they'll succeed in another.

The deeper you dig into a subject, the less you see the end.

But Kang-seok, at just nineteen, had not only painted the iconic Creation of Adam, often seen as the pinnacle of mural work, but also sculpted the Gwanghwa Yeorae-bul—a piece some argued should be a cultural heritage treasure?

That was… unbelievable.

Still holding her brush, she gaped.

And she wasn't the only one.

Everyone watching Kang-seok walk through the center of the theme park stood there with their mouths open. It felt like a scene from an animated movie. Like Moses parting the Red Sea, people moved aside, giving way to him.

This is awkward.

Since finishing the Gwanghwa Yeorae-bul, Kang-seok hadn't had much reason to appear in public places like this. It felt surreal—like he'd become a celebrity overnight. Though he'd taken clear steps to get here, the attention now felt on another level.

Sure, it's nice not to bump into people or be delayed when I walk, but…

This was a bit too much. Thinking so, Kang-seok took another step forward.

At that moment—

Jo Dong-beom, having caught up to him, looked at Kang-seok's face. Although internally Kang-seok was grumbling about how awkward this all was, the corners of his mouth were twitching with an unmistakable smile.

He seems happy.

Jo Dong-beom nodded knowingly.

While waiting for Kang-seok, Ryu Soo-heon was sipping coffee. It was his way of staying alive.

When drowsy, caffeine. When tired, IV fluids. When sick, a mix of IV fluids and fever reducers...Managing his body with such makeshift methods, Ryu Soo-heon had no hesitation as he downed his fifth consecutive double-shot Americano of the day.

Honestly, caffeine seemed to be the only thing that could calm him down.

"I'm counting on you!"

"Ryu Soo-heon, you really hit the jackpot this time!"

"Ryu Soo-heon! Ryu Soo-heon! Ryu Soo-heon!"

Last week.

When Gwanghwa Tathāgata Buddha (光華如來佛) was installed at Bongeunsa Temple, the story behind the installation went viral. People wondered who the sculptor behind such a work was—only to discover that it was Kang-seok, the very same person Ryu knew.

"...Damn... Jackpot."

As Ryu Soo-heon read the news in shock...

The fact that the sculptor of Gwanghwa Tathāgata Buddha was a high school student—Kang-seok—whom Ryu had hired to work on the reopening of the Yongshin Land Theme Studio, spread like wildfire across the arts and culture division.

Initially, people were furious, asking why separate admission was allowed, who would come if tickets to enter the building had to be bought in addition to the park entrance, and whether they also had to fund the construction costs.But now that the deposit was known to be too low, the complaints had flipped again—this time, people were grabbing Ryu and shouting that it could cause a scandal.

Last week had felt like living death for Ryu Soo-heon.

He had probably consumed a lifetime's worth of caffeine just to survive.

Ryu shook his head vigorously, recalling the traumatic memories.

Now that the building had its own admission fee inside Yongshin Land, he'd probably avoid some criticism—but if he'd known Kang-seok would become this famous, people muttered nonsense like, "We should've signed an exclusive contract," or, "We should've raised the ticket prices to share in the hype."

Because of that, Ryu had taken his resignation letter out of his suit 23 times—and shoved it back 22 times after remembering his loans.

"Is there no well-paying job for a lazy person out there?"

Despite saying things like that, Ryu was already planning how to leverage Kang-seok's fame to go viral and market the project for even greater success.

He was the kind of person who, even if he grumbled and wanted to quit, wouldn't be satisfied unless he gave his blood, sweat, and soul to do the job well.That was Ryu Soo-heon, the zombie of the cultural arts department.

As he lowered his head to review the report he was drafting, knock knock. A familiar voice came through the container office.

"Secretary Ryu Soo-heon? You there? It's Kang-seok."

It was Artist Kang-seok!

As soon as Ryu registered the voice, he darted out, ignoring the pain of his thigh bumping the desk corner. He threw open the door in an awkward pose, leaning one leg on the other.

"...Sec...Secretary?"

Kang-seok looked at him uncertainly, unsure how to react to Ryu's odd, bathroom-urgent-like stance.

"You're finally here to start the work!"

"Uh... yes, I guess I am."

"Then let's go...!"

Ryu walked ahead as if he'd forgotten the pain. His awkward shuffle resembled that of a zombie. Kang-seok turned his head.

On the desk, there were at least forty empty coffee cups stacked. Now that he noticed... Kang-seok sniffed the air. The scent of coffee filled every corner of the space.

Wow.

How is this man still alive with a stomach like that?

Having suffered various health issues in a past life, Kang-seok couldn't help but admire Ryu Soo-heon's iron stomach. As he involuntarily clicked his tongue—

"Artist! Time to go!"

Ryu's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Kang-seok straightened his posture again.He thought: Maybe there are more capable people in this world than I realized.

And with that thought, he and Jo Dong-beom followed Ryu Soo-heon.

It was time to begin working on the abandoned building.

Clunk, squeeeeak.

Ryu Soo-heon opened the door ahead of them. What was expected to be dark inside was actually warmly lit—at Kang-seok's request, a glass dome had been installed on the second floor, allowing sunlight to fill the empty space.

The two-story building had a unique structure.

Beneath the glass dome had once been a stacked doll tower, so the space was entirely open, with a ceiling as tall as that of a hotel ballroom.

"Whoa... this is incredible."

Jo Dong-beom looked around.

Though technically a two-story building, the staircase was tucked to one side, making it feel almost like a single-story space. Since it had been a merchandise shop, its structure was more focused on display than on floors—a typical old-fashioned design.

As Jo imagined a glass workshop in the space, Kang-seok slowly walked under the glass dome.

Just in front of the dome.

There stood a massive, movable stage staircase with 16 steps. Painted black, it seemed to dissolve into the shadows. It had the look of a European-style balcony railing.

Because of the height, the railing had been specially requested to prevent anyone from falling and getting hurt.

Kang-seok ran his hand slowly over the railing and looked around.

It was a spot that made you feel like a human gazing up at a god—or like Romeo looking up at Juliet on the balcony.

Kang-seok tapped the railing a few times, seemingly pleased.

Watching quietly, Ryu Soo-heon finally asked, curious:

"By the way, artist... May I ask what exactly you're planning to do here?"

He had followed the request to design the space beside the abandoned building, but still had no clue what it would actually be used for.

If he hadn't been a fan of Kang-seok, Ryu might not have approved such a vague design.

So he asked.

What filled his eyes wasn't suspicion.

It was anticipation.

A hope that Kang-seok would tell him what he had in mind.

The question he'd been holding for months now spilled out from Ryu's lips and gaze.

Kang-seok replied, like it was no big deal:

"I'm going to turn this building into a piece of art."

What came out of his mouth was not something small.

Ryu and Jo Dong-beom looked around in shock, their eyes wide as saucers.

He's turning the whole building into an artwork?

Here?

They glanced back at the space.

Turning this space into art?

The scale was so vast, so immense, so overwhelming, it was dizzying.

They couldn't help but ask—

"...What kind of artwork?"

What kind of artwork needs an entire two-story, 60-pyeong (approx. 2,100 sq ft) building?

Kang-seok again answered casually, like it was nothing:

"If I had to explain... participatory art?"

"Huh?"

"Participatory art?"

His usually expressionless face now carried a hint of playfulness. Kang-seok climbed the 16-step staircase and looked down at Ryu and Jo, smiling.

Gripping the balcony railing with both hands, wider than shoulder-width apart, Kang-seok looked down at them like the master of a grand estate welcoming guests.

As Ryu and Jo stared up at Kang-seok, who naturally looked down on them from above, their toes tingled.

Just what was he going to make?

They were dying to know. So curious, they could hardly stand it.