September 23, the 266th day since the new year

September 23, the 266th day since the new year.

The 8th floor of the Renaissance Mall had finally completed its remodeling and was reopening.

9 a.m.

Under a sign bearing the name "Sistina," a name derived from Pope Sixtus IV who had once commissioned the old chapel, the store opened its doors.

Now, at 11 a.m.

Just two hours after opening, Café Sistina was overflowing with crowds—so much so that people might mistake it for an amusement park.

Beyond the long, seemingly endless line reminiscent of those for the most popular rides, the sound of camera shutters clicking rang out, cutting through the music.

The sound originated near the back of the café—right where Kang Seok's mural "The Creation of Adam" was located.

"(Wow, silence! It's kind of amazing that it's so quiet. It almost feels empty.)"

"(I know, right? And it's crazy that they're not getting kicked out for taking pictures like that. But seriously—it looks just like the Vatican. Actually, I think I like the colors here even more. It almost feels better painted… and it's on the wall, not the ceiling, plus it looks bigger.)"

"(So you're saying you like this better?)"

"(Exactly. That's what I meant.)"

Foreign languages could be heard all across the 8th floor, including the native tongue of the couple studying abroad in Korea.

Most had come to compare how similar this Creation of Adam was to the one in the Sistine Chapel.

Of course, it wasn't just foreigners.

As expected for central Seoul, most of the café's patrons were Korean.

"There are a lot of people," a young Korean man said with a gentle smile. It was an ambiguous tone—possibly admiring the crowd, or perhaps noting it as a distraction.

Wearing a perfectly fitted, elegant casual suit, he casually adjusted his wristwatch with his thumb and forefinger, then straightened up after glancing around.

Right in front of him stood The Creation of Adam, cordoned off so no one could get too close. It was the prime spot in the café.

The young man had seated himself in a location that cleverly avoided all the photo-takers while offering a perfect view of God reaching out to Adam. He smiled contentedly and turned his head.

"Right?"

On either side of him sat two men: Jin Dowook, director of the Bloom Art Museum, and Ryu Junghyung, a board member of the Sangkang Cultural Foundation—established by Sangkang Group and affiliated with the museum.

Ryu, sitting like a loyal subject, slightly bowed his head and responded with a faint smile.

"Well, it's not every day you can see The Creation of Adam without flying all the way to the Vatican."

"That's true," the young man nodded approvingly, glancing at Ryu's glasses chain.

"It's even better than seeing it in the Vatican. My neck doesn't hurt."

It was comfortable. As he lifted his coffee cup with a smile, he raised an eyebrow.

A child was trying to duck under the barrier.

Just as the young man started to rise, a security guard standing nearby quickly stopped the child.

He was clearly one of the guards hired jointly by the government and building management to protect the artwork from vandalism or thoughtless behavior.

The young man stroked his chin.

He recalled what he had heard before coming here:

"Come to think of it, they said the damage prevention protocols were incredibly strict."

Everything—the visible security personnel, the air purifiers circulating fresh air, the careful preservation of The Creation of Adam—must have been part of this rigorous protection system.

The government was investing in maintaining and preserving this artwork. As he rested his chin on the table and mumbled while gazing at the mural:

"Unusual."

It was highly unusual.

Then—

"It is an unusual piece. Considering how Kang Seok always lends out his work only under exhibition or rental agreements… the ownership of this one lies with the state and the building owner. That's pretty exceptional."

Director Jin Dowook had picked up the young man's comment, though he interpreted the "unusual" differently than the young man probably meant.

The young man asked:

"Why did he agree to that?"

"Pardon?"

"From what I've heard, except for Maktub, which was essentially a charity auction, and Leap, which he created for personal emotional healing, Kang Seok never transfers ownership of any potentially profitable commercial work."

"Yes… Yes, that's right."

Indeed, works like Sunset, Glass Peony, Father, and Gwanghwa Tathagata had all ultimately remained under Kang Seok's ownership and final authority.

So why only The Creation of Adam?

Jin Dowook added some context.

"...From what I know, this mural was created as part of a high school mural festival—a public art project involving student clubs from their respective schools."

"A public art project… but still, The Creation of Adam?"

Jin Dowook went silent at the young man's skepticism. Jin hated losing arguments, but even he couldn't justify why Kang Seok would go that far for a mere school event. As far as he knew, the top prize was just 10 million won.

And he wouldn't have kept it all for himself. So… why?

Just then, Ryu Junghyung quietly spoke.

"...I heard that Kang Seok's family was in serious financial trouble at the time."

"Trouble?"

"Yes. And the mural club teacher at Cheonghwa Arts High School had a reputation for encouraging students by promising to award the prize money to the top MVP contributor. It's likely that promise was made again…"

Ryu didn't need to finish. To secure that money, it made sense that Kang Seok would pour everything into winning—and the result was this masterpiece.

"Hmm. I see."

The young man nodded, seeming satisfied but a bit regretful.

Though it wasn't a full original like some of Kang Seok's other works, The Creation of Adam had become beloved by the public.

But to think it was born from a high school mural competition prize… It felt like a waste.

He stared at the mural as if to etch it into his memory.

While he did, Ryu and Jin silently observed him, then shifted their gaze to the mural themselves.

The three men sat in silence, the atmosphere heavy with concentration—so quiet that even the faint classical music and organ sounds from the café seemed to vanish.

Then the young man clapped his hands together once, like sealing a deal. The other two turned toward him. He was smiling.

With his bright and graceful expression—like a well-mannered young master raised in a refined household—he said:

"I was wondering what kind of gift to give after making the commission, but this settles it nicely."

Lovely. Perfect. His dimples deepened as he let out a cheerful laugh.

This young man was Park Sunwoo.

The youngest son of the Sangkang Group owner family, and the person in charge of the architecture for a new Sangkang Group-affiliated hotel.

He was also the one who had made the request to Kang Seok through Jin Dowook for a new sculpture.

"When's the meeting again? A month from now?"

"Ah, let me check… Hmm…"

Jin Dowook double-checked the schedule and nodded firmly.

"Yes, around then. Specifically, October 24."

"October 24."

Park Sunwoo repeated the date and tapped his cheek with his chin-propped hand, then abruptly stood up.

"Let's go."

"Huh?"

"We don't have much time to prepare by October 24."

"Wait, go where?"

Park glanced at his watch, then jabbed his finger upward a couple of times.

"To meet the building's owner."

[October 20]

[4,563 likes]

[This is insane!!!!!! Hey guys! You HAVE to come see it. Right now. F*cking crazy Jesus Christ artist yeah!]

[#Creation_of_Adam #Korea #Seoul #Renaissance #Cafe_Sistina #Michelangelo #Vatican #Genius #KangSeok #Mural #Fresco #Joy #Healing #Date]

[3 hours ago]

[See 547 comments]

Inside the sun-blocked building.

Beneath soft lemon-yellow lighting blending warm and cool tones—

Scrolling through Instagram, Jo Dongbeom smiled.

"It's blowing up again today."

Not even a month after Café Sistina's reopening, Korea had launched a "Creation of Adam Photo Challenge," drawing celebrities multiple times a day.

K-pop idols and actors were taking part, making the place a madhouse.

But the best part?

While they all clamored to meet the artist who painted this Creation of Adam, Jo Dongbeom—his apprentice—got to see him every day.

"Exhilarating! Always fresh! Always the best!"

Grinning, he looked up.

Screech, creak, scree-eeech.

On a table lift, Kang Seok was installing something, almost lying flat on his back.

Springs and parts lay scattered around.

Nearly a month had passed since Kang Seok began working as soon as the abandoned building opened on September 22. Known for his speed, he was now wrapping up the final stages.

As Dongbeom admired his master with awe, Kang Seok was covering the ceiling with feather sculptures he had made earlier.

More accurately, he was attaching feathers to a false ceiling.

Where sunlight once shone through a glass dome, now tightly-packed white feathers made it seem as if a soft, feathered wall had replaced the ceiling.

With one last creak, Kang Seok slowly pulled his hand back from the installation.

His eyes sore from the lights, he pressed a warm towel to them while reaching for a switch on the table lift's railing.

As he pressed it, the lift descended, revealing the ceiling above.

It wasn't the entire ceiling—but the circular area under the glass dome had been fully covered with feathers. The result was a soft, shadowed canopy.

Satisfied, Kang Seok turned and called out:

"Could you turn off the lights?"

"Yes, sir! Your humble apprentice is on it!"

Dongbeom's enthusiastic voice rang out. Clearly something good had happened.

Kang Seok looked up to see Dongbeom rushing toward the switch.

Having been passive throughout the Buddha sculpture project, Dongbeom now insisted on helping every step of the way.

"Master! Turning them off now…!"

Moments later, click, click, click—with the sounds of switches echoing through the old building, complete darkness fell.

The glass dome, now covered by the false ceiling and feathers, allowed not even a sliver of light.

Before his eyes adjusted, Kang Seok, now dismounted from the lift, walked toward the stage stairs in the pitch black.

"Boss."

"Yes, Master."

"Could you contact Secretary Ryu Suheon for me?"

"…What?"

Jo Dongbeom turned in surprise toward the direction of the voice. In the quiet space, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs echoed: tap, tap, tap. It was clear that Kang Seok had memorized every inch of this place—he climbed the stairs as though darkness posed no obstacle.

So dangerously…! Jo Dongbeom, flustered, momentarily forgot his original doubts and walked toward the stairs. Just then, he suddenly remembered what he had meant to ask and stopped in his tracks.

"Uh, Master… You're not even going to test it?"

It had just been completed.

Jo Dongbeom asked into the darkness if he wasn't going to check it. Kang Seok kept climbing the stairs without pause. Then, the moment the sound of his steps stopped—

Strike. Scratch. Fizz.

A single match flared and lit up the darkness.

In vast darkness, even a small flame has great power. The match flame, magnified dozens of times beyond its normal size, began lighting the candlesticks installed on the stage balcony one by one.

As the candlesticks were lit, Kang Seok's face gradually emerged from the shadows. With striking features, he looked particularly handsome in the dark.

Whew.

Even men are rendered speechless in front of such good looks. Momentarily frozen, Jo Dongbeom simply stared up at him in awe, until Kang Seok's voice descended from above.

"It's alright."

It was already complete.

Kang Seok's reddish-brown eyes burned with conviction.

In that instant—

A wire caught the light and sparkled. The gleam that had run along it like a slash disappeared.

After lighting all the candlesticks, Kang Seok blew out the match with a whoosh. As he stood upright, his face vanished once more into the darkness. Jo Dongbeom, staring wistfully at the spot, was urged on by his voice.

"Go on, make the call."

"Y-yes! Understood! This humble disciple will make the call right away!"

"Oh, and one more favor."

"…From me?"

"Yes."

Kang Seok's voice replied.

A voice Jo Dongbeom couldn't refuse.

A crimson sunset painted a beautiful afternoon.

Even if a zombie apocalypse broke out right now, he'd fit right in with that disheveled look—today's modern worker. Ryu Suheon was walking through the heart of Yongshin Land.

— "Um, well, the Master says the piece is complete."

Having received Jo Dongbeom's call, Ryu Suheon was now walking toward the abandoned building where Kang Seok had been working.

The place, now without even a signboard, was still called "the abandoned building." As he approached, Ryu Suheon couldn't stop smiling, his lips stretching into a grin as if he were a different person.

"I knew Artist Kang Seok would pull it off!"

A long-time fan since Kang Seok's early days, Ryu Suheon nodded as if he had never doubted him. A smile crept up into his tired eyes.

"The reopening is coming soon, and there's that art fair he's participating in. I was worried sick, but… ha!"

Sorry for ever doubting you.

After just thinking he believed in him, now Ryu Suheon found himself apologizing to thin air for doubting again. He kept walking.

He looked suspicious at best, but people peeking from alleyways greeted him with familiar smiles. It was because lately, a delirious Ryu Suheon had been spotted wandering the heart of Yongshin Land more frequently.

"Hello."

"Yes, hello."

"Secretary! Hello!"

"Yes, hello."

Despite the dark aura lingering around his eyes, they curved like crescent moons as he smiled. Even as he walked, he sucked on his coffee like a mosquito drawn to blood, unable to resist the smell that pricked his veins.

Addiction is frightening.

To drink to survive, and then find you can't live without it—what a cruel, tragic fate.

Slurp slurp—as if receiving an emergency blood transfusion through a straw, Ryu Suheon smiled contentedly. He couldn't help being giddy.

How long had he walked, all excited like that?

Before he knew it, he was in front of the abandoned building.

"I guess I should go in?"

He said to come, so I should go in.

"Excuse meee."

Cradling his jumbo coffee like a treasure, Ryu Suheon pushed open the tightly shut door to the abandoned building. Darkness. Huh? Was the power out? Before he could wonder further, a light flickered from a candlestick on the stage stairs.

Drawn to the small flame, Ryu Suheon turned his head.

— You. Climb the stairs.

A voice spoke from the dark.

Deep and aged, like from inside a cave.

It was Jo Dongbeom.

"Mr. Jo Dongbeom? What are you doing here?"

— You. Climb the stairs.

Ryu Suheon looked around. In the echoing space, the voice was so deep and low, it was impossible to tell where it was coming from.

What is this?

Something crossed Ryu Suheon's mind.

— "I'm going to turn this building into an artwork."

— "…What kind of artwork?"

— "If I had to explain… maybe participatory art?"

Words Kang Seok had said a month ago.

This is that participation…!

Now that he thought about it, it felt just like entering a theme park. Nodding, Ryu Suheon obediently followed the instructions and walked slowly toward the flickering light.

Truthfully, the candlestick's light wasn't enough to see the stairs, but with the help of the stair railing, he made it up without much trouble.

Then, just as he reached the platform where the candlestick sat—

Jo Dongbeom's voice whispered from the dark.

At times it sounded like an old man, sometimes a polite gentleman, and at others like a woman urging someone on.

— You. If you are curious, lift the candlestick.

Lift the candlestick.

The second command. Ryu Suheon looked down at the platform. As he reached for the candlestick, something cold like a metal wire brushed his finger.

A chilling sensation.

When he didn't lift it, the voice came again.

— Don't you want to know? If you are curious, lift the candlestick.

It urged him.

Ryu Suheon, drawn by the persuasive tone, lifted the candlestick. At that moment—clunk—something attached to it was pulled. Whatever mechanism was in place, it didn't take much effort.

Huh?

As he looked more closely, a sound came from the ceiling. A deep rumbling, echoing through the empty space, like the building itself was collapsing.

"…What is this?"

The sound was so terrifying and bizarre that Ryu Suheon nearly dropped both his coffee and the candlestick. While he looked around in alarm, the voice urged him again—this time deeper, darker.

— You. Raise the candlestick high!

"Ah!"

Heart pounding, Ryu Suheon lifted the candlestick high like a warrior raising a sword.

Immediately, a sound like a spinning wheel losing all sense of direction whirled endlessly, ending with a sharp click.

What is this.

"Ugh!"

A blinding light flooded in from the darkness.

Ryu Suheon tried to close his eyes against the brightness, but they trembled instead. As the light washed over the dark space, a vision of thousands of butterflies rising into the air kept him from looking away.

Feathers floated like clouds, and swarms of butterflies guided his eyes into a new world.

A divine realm beyond human sight.

His pupils widened and trembled.

A world he had never encountered before.

Beautiful.

That was the only word that came to mind.

Before he could even recognize the colors, butterflies of unfamiliar hues pulled him into a momentary realm. When they finally settled mid-air—

Two pale hands reached out to him.

A beautiful woman in a white empire dress smiled at him lovingly.

Thump thump thump.

Ryu Suheon's face flushed—perhaps from the sunset, perhaps not. Even the heart that didn't react to twenty cups of coffee a day now felt like it might burst.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump.

Her hair, her collarbone, her lips, her eyes that held a soul.

Even her delicate fingers.

He wanted to run to her and embrace her.

But she stood as though the sky were solid ground—unreachable.

So, in place of his heart, Ryu Suheon offered the candlestick. Though the light already illuminated the world, he thought it might help him see her face even more clearly.

As if entranced, Ryu Suheon held out the candlestick, casting light toward her face in the dark.

Ba-dump ba-dump.

His beating heart was speaking to him.

Ryu Suheon understood what this feeling was.

Ah…

This was love.