Chapter 25

Chapter 25

"Assistant Manager Lee. What was that <Gate of Heaven> piece like?"

Assistant Manager Lee, Lee Seon-hwa, was standing before the head of the External Cooperation Headquarters.

Unable to hide her nervousness, she answered,

"It was... incredible!"

"...Incredible?"

"Yes! Even though it wasn't finished yet, I could already tell what purpose the <Gate of Heaven> had been created for-"

"Enough."

"...Yes, sir!"

The manager looked completely different from when he'd met Do Hwa-in.

His normally pleasant, smiling face hardened.

His narrow eyes sharpened like a snake's, while the flesh around his cheeks and jaw made him look ill-tempered.

His small pupils moved restlessly between those thin eyes.

"Tsk.... It'll be troublesome if the finished work is too impressive."

If Crafter Do Hwa-in had agreed to join the Association, there would've been no need for such concern.

The manager would've applauded and celebrated instead.

"We need to start laying the groundwork early. Assistant Manager Lee, give the architect a hint. Tell him there might be some noise for a while, but if he ignores it, everything will be fine."

"Um... What about Crafter Do Hwa-in...?"

"Why are you bringing up Do Hwa-in? We're doing this to get Do Hwa-in. Did seeing one unfinished gate shake you that badly?"

"No, sir! I'm sorry!"

The Association was, quite literally, preparing to capture Crafter Do Hwa-in.

After all, appropriate pressure and threats were often useful tools when recruiting talent.

This was no different.

Last time, I pressured him too directly. I thought direct pressure would work because Do Hwa-in is young....

Tsk.

Artists were all impossible to deal with.

Their personalities jumped one way, then another.

Still, no matter how rebellious and stubborn Do Hwa-in was, he wasn't some enlightened saint.

How long could he keep acting so relaxed?

What a shame. After looking into him again, he doesn't seem like someone who would actually emigrate that easily. I can't believe I held back because of a young crafter's bluff.

The title of S-Class production-type really was dazzling.

...No. Maybe it was better that we established a connection with him first. Considering what we're about to do, it might actually be useful if he thinks the Association is afraid of his immigration threat.

That way, he would be too stunned to react when everything started and simply get swept along.

The next day, small online news outlets gradually began publishing negative articles about Do Hwa-in.

On obscure online communities people called the underground, posts appeared criticizing the choice of sculptor for the memorial project.

The articles and complaint posts all carried the same tone.

Why entrust something this important to an inexperienced sculptor? Did he abuse his S-Class production skill to steal the position?

Posts that appeared late at night attracted malicious users through the night and early morning.

Eventually, someone began digging into Do Hwa-in's past.

His family.

His school years.

Everything.

By sunrise, Do Hwa-in had transformed into an untalented aspiring sculptor who had refused to give up his ambition of becoming famous even after awakening and had used his power to steal a national project.

It was completely different from how people had acted earlier, when refusing the commission would've supposedly made him a traitor.

Because those small, underground communities didn't appear easily in outside searches, the negative posts escaped the attention of Yeonwoo Guild's public-opinion response team.

By daytime, the topic had already shifted and the posts about Do Hwa-in were pushed down.

But the seeds the manager wanted had already been planted.

Seeds of controversy that would grow rapidly once watered at the right moment.

After watching the entire process, the manager smiled in satisfaction.

He picked up his phone and called someone.

"Yes, yes. Everything's being prepared properly. Do Hwa-in won't have much choice. Young people are especially sensitive to internet opinion, aren't they? And he's both a Hunter and a celebrity. If public opinion explodes, the pressure will come from every direction. Even the people around him will panic. How long do you think a kid like that can endure it? Then we'll reach out, clean everything up, and that's that."

"..."

"Of course. No problem. It's not like this is my first time doing something like this. Restoring his image afterward will be easy. And even if we don't fully restore it, we can just show him that the public in the real world still supports him, can't we?"

"..."

"No, if we push further than that, there could be trouble. That brat's eyes... whew, he had some nerve, acting like a real artist. Haha! Still, he's just a puppy barking at a tiger. Yes, yes. Don't worry. Take care."

Tap. Tap-tap...

Climbing the ladder and looking down from above the sculpture gave me a strange feeling.

I carved every direction to be complete, of course.

But in the end, this was an angle no one except the sculptor would ever see.

The <Gate of Heaven> was the same.

Because I'd carved clouds rising from the very bottom, standing above it felt almost like looking down from somewhere higher than the sky itself.

It was a shame that only the sculptor would ever see this view.

At the same time, I liked that I could keep it to myself.

It wasn't the best angle for conveying the intention of the work.

But it felt new.

Alive in its own way.

"Nice."

Even tiny details like this made me fall in love with sculpture all over again.

Sculpture had a flavor completely different from flat paintings.

The work was nearly finished.

Once I refined the details and completed the surface textures, I planned to contact the Association and hand over the piece.

I'd heard the architectural side, which had started later than me, was progressing faster than expected.

Apparently the weather itself had been helping.

There hadn't been any rain.

There was other good news too.

[You have moved 50,000 viewers!]

[A mysterious power settles within your body!]

[Aura +1]

[Name: Do Hwa-in

Title: -

Achievements: -

Skill: Pygmalion (S)

Stats:

Stamina 10 (+16)

Agility 10

Strength 10 (+23)

Mana 9 (+11)

*Aura 9]

While I was carving the <Gate of Heaven>, the number of people moved by <Pilgrim> had already surpassed fifty thousand.

When Aura reaches 10, another ability is supposed to unlock.

What would it be?

Looking back at the previous Aura notifications, the next increase would probably come after I deeply moved another large number of people.

Maybe once the <Gate of Heaven> is revealed, I'll reach it quickly.

For the first month after accepting the commission, I'd been tangled in worries and concerns.

But at some point, the world became as peaceful as the <Gate of Heaven> in front of me.

As though there had never been anything to worry about.

The real beginning would come when the sculpture was unveiled.

The attention that had wandered elsewhere would gather around the memorial space and unveiling ceremony.

It would be hard not to notice something standing in the middle of a Han River park.

The fact that the Association hadn't made any obvious moves even after spying on Yeonwoo Guild still bothered me, though.

Come to think of it, they asked me to attend the unveiling ceremony too. Does that mean I'll meet the architect there?

The worries disappeared.

All that remained was the pleasant pounding of my heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Time passed even faster than that heartbeat.

"We will now begin the unveiling ceremony for the 35th Anniversary Memorial Space commemorating the first Gate emergence. First, please welcome the President of the Hunter Association."

Clap, clap, clap, clap.

The gathered audience applauded calmly.

Distinguished guests sat on gray plastic chairs in the front row.

Behind a thin barrier ribbon, ordinary citizens stood beneath the sunlight.

Behind the stage, an enormous white covering hid the memorial space that had yet to be revealed.

I looked at the fabric fluttering in the wind and imagined what lay behind it.

I hadn't personally watched the installation.

But I'd reviewed the memorial-space blueprints beforehand.

Based on those plans, the finished space should look impressive.

I wondered whether reality would live up to what I'd imagined.

"Ah, hello, citizens. I am Jeong Gyeong-hun, the first President of the Hunter Association. It has already been thirty-five years since Gates first appeared before us. In that time, many things have happened...."

Tap, tap.

A small noise suddenly caught my attention.

Following it, I found someone tapping the armrest of my chair with a finger.

"Hello?"

"!"

Only then did I realize the seat beside me must have been reserved for the memorial-space architect.

I quickly took the hand he offered and shook it briefly.

"I saw the installed sculpture and was deeply impressed. I really wanted to greet you, Sculptor Do. I figured there might not be time later, so I decided to speak to you now. I hope that wasn't rude."

"Not at all. I was also very impressed when I saw the memorial-space design. It's nice to meet you."

We whispered to each other for a while.

Maybe because we'd started the conversation by praising each other's work, the atmosphere stayed pleasant throughout.

"...Even now, I remember that day thirty-five years ago. A massive Gate opened above the peaceful Han River in broad daylight. Beneath it were office workers out for a walk, children, our mothers and fathers. It was the moment when families collapsed, and beyond them, the nation itself began to fall...."

The mood quickly grew solemn, so we couldn't talk for long.

Still, in that short span of time, we exchanged phone numbers.

I forced the smile from my face and looked toward the stage.

The Association President had a broad, sturdy face.

He clenched his fist while looking over the audience.

It felt less like a memorial speech and more like a declaration that everyone should keep fighting.

His closing words made that even clearer.

"We, the Association, will continue to fight! So that the sacrifices of countless people will not be meaningless. So that the deaths of so many will not remain unjust! I will personally stand at the very front of the line and keep fighting! So I ask all of you to continue watching the Association's path. ...Thank you."

The Association President stepped down.

The host returned with a slightly bewildered expression.

He quickly fixed his face and raised the microphone.

"Ahem. Then we will now proceed with the unveiling of the Han River 35th Anniversary Memorial Space."

The President, along with every other famous figure attending the event, stepped forward and took hold of ropes connected to the fabric covering the space.

"One, two, three!"

Whoosh!

The first thing revealed behind the falling white cloth was the clear autumn sky.

Then came the massive gate rising beneath that blue sky.

The blue structure looked as though it were touching the open heavens directly.

Its decorations seemed made from the clouds that should've belonged above it.

The landscape carved into the gate itself was mysterious and abundant.

It felt as though the scent of ripe fruit might drift out from somewhere.

Water flowed in a circle around the gate, preventing visitors from approaching it directly.

Anyone stepping closer would be able to see, beneath the water, the names of Gate victims who had officially been declared dead.

Citizens who had been standing quietly behind the barrier began walking toward the gate as though mesmerized.

"That artificial stream is slightly less than three meters wide."

The architect spoke beside me as we watched people move.

His expression looked distant.

Come to think of it, he was old enough that he had probably experienced both the world before Gates and the years after their appearance.

"Three meters is narrow considering thirty-five years of losses. But if you think about the people whose families are still waiting after only filing missing-person reports... or the victims who were forgotten because there was no one left to even do that.... Then that stream isn't three meters wide. It is much wider. Much deeper."

"...Did you lose someone too?"

"Of course I did."

He smiled gently, though his expression remained distant.

"That's why I'm grateful. Earlier, I greeted you as an architect impressed by your sculpture. Now I'm thanking you as a bereaved family member."

He continued softly.

"When I first saw the transported <Gate of Heaven>, I forgot my age and cried for a long time. If the place my family went to looks like what you carved into that gate... then I felt comforted knowing they had gone somewhere beautiful."

All I could say was that I was glad.

We stood together in silence for a long time.

The only sound filling the memorial space was running water.

Kim Ji-eon, who had once protested in front of Badger Guild, lifted his head with a solemn expression.

He'd attended today's memorial ceremony for one reason.

To see the memorial sculpture.

More precisely, to see the sculpture Artist Do Hwa-in had created for remembrance.

He wanted to be among the first to see the new work of the artist who had given him the strength to begin again.

Until the Association President finished his speech, however, Kim Ji-eon had been suppressing irritation and wondering if coming had been a mistake.

The ceremony was held during a weekday afternoon, making it difficult to attend.

He'd had to finish all of his morning work early.

Even though he'd requested half a day off in advance, his boss had still complained.

And then he'd run all the way here to make sure he wasn't late.

When he saw <Pilgrim> before, he'd been dressed as a protester.

This time, he'd wanted to look respectable.

He'd even dug out a white shirt and ironed it before dawn.

Now it was damp with sweat.

Probably wrinkled too.

All that effort had been wasted.

If someone saw him now, they might think he looked just as pitiful as he did back in the days when he wore a fluorescent vest and slept on the street.

Was coming here just pointless greed?

For a moment, everything he'd done to get here felt meaningless.

Then the white cloth fluttered away.

And he saw the blue gate beyond it.

After that, none of it mattered.

The gates of Heaven....

He knew perfectly well the sculpture wasn't actually called the Gates of Heaven.

Its title was <Gate of Heaven>.

But so what?

Whether it was Heaven or simply the sky, peace existed beyond that gate.

And the names of those who had gone there would be the same.

"...Mom. Dad."

It was the first time he'd called them that since high school.

The tiny voice escaped like a groan and disappeared beneath the sound of flowing water.

It almost felt as though his voice had been swept away by the current.

Carried through the water.

Down toward the names below.

Then beyond the gate itself.

I'm glad I wore the shirt.

He'd been so busy surviving that he'd forgotten.

He had never properly dressed up to say goodbye to his parents.

When he was young, he had no money.

When he grew older, he had no time.

Without realizing it, Kim Ji-eon stood before the gate and bowed his head in silent mourning.

It wasn't a real funeral.

It wasn't a memorial rite.

But a small empty space seemed to open inside the heavy weight he'd carried for years.

His tense shoulders lowered slightly.

When he raised his head and looked around, he saw countless damp faces.

Some people frowned.

Some smiled faintly.

Some showed no expression at all.

Every face was different.

But all their eyes glistened beneath the sunlight.

Like ripples sparkling across the Han River and the stream surrounding the <Gate of Heaven>.

Kim Ji-eon didn't search through the water for his parents' names.

He didn't want to reopen the pain he'd felt when reporting their deaths.

Instead, he looked endlessly at the landscape beyond the gate.

The place he decided to believe they had gone.

His eyes lingered especially on two figures sitting beside a waterfall above the clouds, quietly talking together.

He had spent half his life resenting his parents for leaving him behind.

Yet he still missed them.

He hoped they were as peaceful as those figures.

For some reason, the sound of the flowing water seemed louder.

The quickest way to judge a work was to look at the expressions of its viewers.

I quietly nodded while watching the faces around me.

They were grieving.

But they weren't sinking into despair.

The story I'd intended seemed to have reached them properly this time too.

I remembered how surprised I'd been when I first saw the architectural plans after handing over the sculpture.

I'd been told my work would stand at the center of the memorial space designed by the architect.

But the result felt much closer to a true collaboration than I'd expected.

Neither the architect nor I had exchanged a single word while creating our respective pieces.

Yet the finished result fit together as though we'd planned everything from the beginning.

It was fascinating.

And I was glad the bereaved families had been given a place where they could grieve properly.

"Ahahaha!"

An innocent laugh made me turn my head.

Two children stood nearby.

Each was holding the hand of a different adult.

Judging by that, they'd probably just happened to stand beside each other and started talking.

The adults were busy staring at the flowing water and the <Gate of Heaven> while crying.

The children, too young to understand much of anything, were simply delighted to have made a new friend.

They seemed to be trying to keep their voices down.

But their excitement naturally made them louder.

Eventually, an old man holding the boy's hand looked down.

Was he going to scold the child?

Or simply tell him to be quiet?

He did neither.

Instead, the old man crouched down and suddenly pulled the boy into a tight embrace.

Startled, the child simply laughed happily.

Drawn by the sight, the parents of the little girl followed the old man's example and hugged their daughter too.

The laughter became a little quieter.

Then the sound disappeared once more beneath the flowing water.

For a moment, the <Gate of Heaven> and the families who could not yet pass beyond it looked like a single sculpture.