God’s agent

God's agent.

This was how Vasari, an admirer of Michelangelo, introduced him at the beginning of his biography of the artist.

Vasari described Michelangelo as a divine agent sent to earth by God to show humanity the perfection of design in art. This, too, was how he introduced him.

And that wasn't all.

Regarding The Creation of Adam on the Sistine Chapel ceiling, he said this:

"Look at the beauty and posture of Adam. When you see his form, it seems less like he was painted and designed by a mortal destined to die, and more like he was newly created by the supreme Creator of the universe."

Truly, it's a testament to how much Vasari admired Michelangelo.

That statement meant Michelangelo's Adam possessed a body so perfect, it was indistinguishable from one made by God Himself. Vasari dared to compare Michelangelo to God.

Considering the time, could there be any higher praise or admiration?

"Snow."

At someone's murmured comment, a few people absentmindedly turned their heads.

Snowflakes were falling over a strangely quiet neighborhood and streets—an odd contrast to the crowd inside this space.

December 12th.

Snowfall wasn't unusual for the season, yet it always caught attention. Today was no exception.

People watched the snow drift through the air as if watching grains fall through an hourglass.

But their gazes didn't linger.

Their eyes kept returning, almost magnetically, to one direction.

On the outskirts of Seoul, just beyond the city center.

Despite it being the weekend, traffic was sparse and the streets were calm—a sharp contrast to the density of people gathered in this place.

This was inside the Sistina Café, on the 8th floor of the Renaissance Shopping Mall.

What continued to draw the gaze of the people who had braved the winter chill to fill the café was Kang Seok's The Creation of Adam.

The fresco depicted the moment God, draped in a billowing cloak and surrounded by angels, reached out to a weary Adam leaning against a rock.

The colors were vivid, unblemished, and the image—unlike the original ceiling fresco—was on a wall at eye level, easily viewable without tilting one's head. And it was definitely larger than life-size.

People gazed at the mural as if under a spell.

Kang Seok's rendition of The Creation of Adam had something mesmerizing about it.

Here, people lost track of time and stared blankly at the artwork—if that's not a spell, then what is?

Even those who usually hated standing didn't complain once while here. That must be true magic.

Crack.

In less than 3 minutes and 40 seconds since the snowfall started, every gaze that had been directed out the window was now fixed elsewhere. A woman with pink lips, wearing sunglasses indoors, bit down on a candy sharply.

That no one was watching the snowfall wasn't surprising.

But not a single person still looking outside? Her thick-heeled shoes stomped the ground in irritation.

"Ugh. What a waste. What a goddamn waste."

Her.

Seol Yeo-jin, owner of Jakyak Gallery in Gwanhun-dong, glared at The Creation of Adam as she ground the candy stick between her teeth.

"One painting and they're raking in so much."

For ordinary gallerists who couldn't afford to borrow giant works for exhibitions like large museums, or who couldn't host blockbuster solo shows by famous artists like old, prestigious galleries, foot traffic was money.

And yet, this shabby shopping mall had snagged it all. Seol Yeo-jin was boiling with envy.

What made it worse was that the project was part of a public art initiative—they hadn't even paid full price. She'd heard Kang Seok had received 5 million won with the help of some schoolteacher connections.

"Five million for this?"

And it wasn't just this one. There were over a dozen murals throughout the Renaissance Shopping Mall.

And they were all decent. The quality wasn't bad—in fact, it was good.

"Well… the artists were students from Chung-hwa Arts High School… So of course."

Chung-hwa Art High School students were known for their skills—good enough to rival most adult professionals.

Still, The Creation of Adam stood far above the rest. Even so, it was 5 million won for that mural, and another 5 million for the others combined. A total of just 10 million won.

"Ten million won for all this?"

Seol Yeo-jin had to work hard to suppress the rage bubbling beneath her sweet smile.

If she weren't a public figure, and if she weren't worried about how it would look, she might have banged on the table and screamed already.

Ugh. Her mouth twitched from holding it in.

Just then—

She spotted Kim Yoon-seo, whom she'd sent on an errand, walking toward her.

Though Kim Yoon-seo's face was expressionless, Seol Yeo-jin, who'd spent many years working with her, could read the situation instantly.

"Didn't go as planned, huh?"

Seol Yeo-jin dug her thumbnail into her middle finger. What Kim Yoon-seo wanted was exactly what she had hoped for—of course she wasn't happy.

"Director."

Yoon-seo came to her table and gave a slight bow.

"Yes, Yoon-seo."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? The building's already sold?"

"...Yes."

Seol Yeo-jin scratched her cuticle with her thumbnail again. Her rose-colored lips, like withered petals, curled sweetly.

It was a lovely smile.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry. I was the one who was late."

Today, Seol Yeo-jin and Kim Yoon-seo had come to Renaissance Shopping Mall to try and buy the building.

Kang Seok didn't seem interested in selling his artwork, so they had aimed to at least acquire the shopping mall that housed it—but they were too late.

Crack.

She ground another candy to bits with her molars.

Had she spent too much time preparing Go Du-han's solo exhibition, the biggest event for Jakyak Gallery? Was it a mistake to waste time hunting for a piece to replace Sunset? Or had the long power struggle with Bloom Museum over Kang Seok's participation in Art Basel Miami Beach been her undoing?

Crack.

"Then did you find out who bought the building?"

"Yes. It's Park Sun-woo, the youngest heir of the Sangan Group."

"Park Sun-woo?"

A name both unfamiliar and vaguely known.

Not an art major, nor actively involved in the art scene, but a name she had heard over and over again from various corners of the art world.

Seol Yeo-jin turned her head.

"He didn't buy this place to run it himself."

An investment?

Then she could offer to buy it at a higher price. She'd saved quite a bit with the intention of acquiring Kang Seok's work. Remembering the amount, her eyes sparkled.

"How much will he sell it for?"

"...His legal proxy said the transfer is already being prepared, and a deal is no longer possible."

"Transfer? When did he buy it?"

"A few months ago, apparently."

Seol Yeo-jin stared at Kim Yoon-seo as if she'd just heard nonsense. Her assistant looked just as baffled.

Their minds began to spin.

"Of course, they wouldn't give you his contact info."

"No."

"Then Yoon-seo, I noticed a 7th-floor unit being cleared out on our way up… Can you check if that space is available for lease? You got the contact info, right?"

If she couldn't get her first choice, she'd settle for the next best thing. Pushing aside Plan A, Seol Yeo-jin began planning Plan B.

"Well…"

Kim Yoon-seo murmured hesitantly. Seol Yeo-jin looked up at her with a questioning glance.

"I remembered you had your eye on that space, so I asked about it… but it's already been leased."

"…Something weird is going on here."

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

Seol Yeo-jin bit into her candy as she sipped her caramel macchiato. Something massive was shifting beneath the surface she stood on.

Still mulling over what Kim Yoon-seo had said, Seol Yeo-jin stood up from her seat.

"Let's go. We need to check on the situation."

"Yes."

This happened while Kang-seok was on a flight to Miami Beach.

Inside the Plane

Kang-seok sat in first class, a seat prepared for him by the Bloom Museum, staring out the window.

The director of the Bloom Museum, Jin Do-wook, and the other staff were all in business class, so Kang-seok was left alone, free to gaze out the window without interruption.

It had already been five hours.

"Is that passenger… okay? He's been staring out the window this whole time…"

"Keep an eye on him, but don't do anything rash."

"...Understood."

Even the flight attendants took notice—Kang-seok didn't move a muscle, like a statue, fixated on the view outside.

But Kang-seok wasn't simply doing nothing.

In the quiet of first class, where nearly everyone else was asleep, Kang-seok was more active than anyone else—only, it was his eyes and pupils that moved.

Like a camera lens adjusting focus, his pupils constantly observed the world beyond the window.

There was a clear reason he was staring so intensely outside, without pause.

Because it was his first time.

His first time flying. His first time leaving the country. His first time seeing the world from above the clouds.

In other words, this was a brand-new experience—one he had never had in either his past life or current one.

Kang-seok was thrilling in every single scene entering his view. These would become the foundation that would evolve his work further.

Could I ever create something as astounding as this mystery before my eyes?

They said he had stolen the hands of God.

In both his previous life and this one.

His hands were imbued with perfect creation. And because he was still learning, Kang-seok would continue, endlessly, to grow and improve.

If so, could the day come when even these vast, magnificent landscapes would take form in his hands? Could he give birth to nature itself?

…Could I really do it?

In his past life, he had carved the night sky but regretted never signing his name as the creator. In this life, he envied the one who sculpted the moon and despaired over not being able to produce something so beautiful himself.

But this time, a new feeling emerged—something different than before.

A competitive spirit.

The moment it arose, Kang-seok's desire to challenge nature itself was born.

"Ha… ha!"

Another two hours passed.

Watching the sky turn scarlet, he marveled in pure awe.

It's different.

The photos he had seen before—those taken through camera lenses—were nothing like this. The limits of color perception through technology and what his own eyes could detect were worlds apart.

Kang-seok committed the view to memory, as if storing it deep within his brain like a photograph.

The plane was fast, but Kang-seok never forgot what he saw once.

Breaking through the wind, weaving between the clouds, the vast ocean shimmering in sunlight, and puffy clouds drifting like pods of sky whales—all of it etched into his mind.

The air of the heavens. The colors. The rippling sea. Reflections of sunlight. The motion of the clouds. How they seemed thick from afar but unraveled like silkworm threads up close…

Kang-seok's pupils took in every detail.

In the silence of the cabin,

the giant was quietly taking his very first step toward consuming the world.

Miami Beach, Florida, USA

Kang-seok and the Bloom Museum team, including Director Jin Do-wook, inhaled the distinct scent of the airport upon arrival.

The air was completely different from Korea's winter.

Miami Beach's 26 to 28°C warmth gently embraced their tired bodies.

Kang-seok looked up slightly.

A billboard greeted them: [Art Basel Miami Beach]

Art Basel Miami Beach.

When the fair first came from Switzerland to Miami in 2002, many doubted whether it could succeed there.

But it had.

With full-throated support from the local community and wealthy Latin American collectors, Miami had grown into a powerful art hub.

Now, Art Basel Miami Beach had become a beloved event—not only for tourists but also for rich elites and celebrities who visited the city specifically for this occasion.

It was worth it.

Below the "Art Basel Miami Beach" sign, bold letters read:"290 Galleries from 38 Countries Participating!"

A huge leap from the initial 160 galleries from 23 countries.

Kang-seok quietly stared at the text.

His debut exhibition would be held in the Gallery Section—one of seven sections at Art Basel—where about 190 key galleries were featured.

It was the most gallery-dense section, where artworks were easy to view and even easier to forget. In such a space, only pieces that seized attention at a glance could survive.

For the first time since arriving in Miami, Kang-seok's lips curled upward.

Grabbing attention in a passing moment.

That was his greatest strength.

Let's go.

Just as he was about to take a step—

"Are you Kang-seok? (Is that how you say it?)"

A low, mixed voice of Korean and English rang out.

Kang-seok's eyes shifted.

A foreign man was standing there.

Who's this?

Kang-seok stared at him blankly. Just then—thud—something fell. Kang-seok turned toward the sound.

Director Jin Do-wook was standing there, face flushed, staring at the man.

"…Arthur."

Uncommon green eyes.

Dirty blond curls mixed with chestnut tones—reminiscent of David and Eros. A soft, kind smile.

A V-shaped torso and long, slender legs.

Even to another man, he was irritatingly handsome.

His name was Arthur.

He said, "Nice to meet you, Kang-seok. I'm Arthur."