Chapter 40

Chapter 40

"Is anyone home?"

Clang, clang!

The metal gate, its paint peeled away in several places, shook precariously.

Even the guard who had loudly called inside seemed startled and quickly took his hand off it.

"..."

"Doesn't look like anyone's home."

But the homeowner, who I half expected to come storming out in anger, showed no sign of appearing.

Professor Park frowned beneath the harsh seaside sunlight and gestured for us to wait.

He took off his glasses and checked his phone, apparently intending to make a call.

"Yes, hello? We came to your house today, but it seems you're not in. Ah, yes. Yes...."

Not long afterward, someone appeared walking along the coastal road.

Even from a distance, their silhouette was unusual.

Their head looked abnormally large while the body beneath it was slim.

A huge basket was tucked under one arm, and they shuffled along in slippers.

As the person drew closer, I finally saw what was on their head.

White, red, and blue tufts of fur wrapped all the way around the back.

The face itself was that of a dokkaebi mask.

I could feel the guards tense at the unusual sight.

The stranger should have been able to sense the wary mana coming from the Hunters too.

Yet he didn't slow down.

If anything, he approached a little faster, then briefly lifted the mask before lowering it again.

Just enough to show us his face.

"I heard you were looking for me."

"Don't tell me...?"

"Yes. I'm Kim I-sin, one of Master Painter Do Jae-hwan's students."

The man nodded at the guard's mutter and introduced himself.

"Ahem. Good afternoon. I'm Park Su-ung, the one who contacted you. This is my student, and those two beside him are my student's guards."

"Oh. Your student must be quite an important person."

In other words, why was the student walking around with guards instead of the teacher?

I introduced myself without hesitation.

I wanted information from this man.

"Hello. I'm sculptor Do Hwa-in. I was the one who asked Professor Park to find one of Master Painter Do Jae-hwan's students."

"Don't tell me you're the Do Hwa-in who made <Pilgrim>, <Gate of Heaven>, <The Marriage of Eros and Psyche>, and <Eumgil Village>?"

"How do you know about <Eumgil Village>?"

"Why wouldn't I? It's been in the news constantly. Your fans are already making pilgrimages there. Have you heard of something called the 'Do Hwa-in Road'?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's a route designed specifically to view your works in the most efficient order. It's practically a travel guidebook."

My fans really did take everything seriously.

Kim I-sin's eyes widened slightly.

Then he glanced toward the guards and nodded to himself.

"So why did you come looking for me?"

"I had some questions for one of Grandfather's students."

"Grandfather, huh.... That's interesting."

He tossed out his words bluntly, but there wasn't any malice in them.

It was an unusual way of speaking.

I could have explained my business right here.

But I didn't.

I could sense it from him.

The scent of a certain kind of eccentric you occasionally encountered in artistic circles.

There were people who seemed to live inside worlds of their own.

People with convictions who did things ordinary people wouldn't.

It wasn't always anything grand.

Nor did they necessarily cause serious trouble for others.

The eccentrics I'd seen at art university hadn't done anything particularly dramatic either.

Sleeping anywhere they felt like.

Always running downhill instead of walking.

Wearing short sleeves in the middle of winter.

Holding birthday parties or funerals for inanimate objects.

Inventing strange superstitions and strictly following them.

Walking around with bizarre objects attached to their bodies.

Small things.

Things they enjoyed alone.

But from the outside, you couldn't help wondering why they were doing any of it.

Professor Park had also developed a strange expression and seemed to be trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"More importantly, could you make us some tea? We've come a long way. We can discuss the real reason we're here afterward. How does that sound?"

The other man readily nodded.

The mask making his head look three times larger bobbed as he led us inside.

One of the guards couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"By the way, why are you wearing that mask?"

Oh no.

That wasn't something you were supposed to ask.

Whenever you questioned eccentrics about their eccentric behavior, getting a proper answer was rare.

I subtly looked away while pretending to inspect the house.

"Ah. There was a ritual for a plentiful catch in the village today. Men aren't allowed to participate unless they're wearing dokkaebi masks, so I put one on."

Surprisingly, the answer was perfectly normal.

I still didn't know why he was wearing it even after leaving the ritual, though.

Apparently he read that question in our eyes too, because another answer followed immediately.

"Also, there's a saying that any man who spends today without a dokkaebi mask will be dragged into the sea. It's unavoidable, so I hope you'll understand."

"What about us?!"

Professor Park blurted out in alarm.

To be fair, all four people who had come to this seaside village today were men.

Grandfather's student merely shrugged.

His face was hidden by the mask, but somehow I could almost read his expression.

What does that have to do with me?

"I made some extra masks. Would you like to buy one?"

"Can't you just lend us one?"

Professor Park asked with a grimace.

The student calmly spoke while bringing out teacups.

"I trust you're not the sort of shameless person who would empty the pockets of a poor artist."

He certainly didn't act like someone who had just told us a ghost story.

In the end, only Professor Park bought a mask and put it on before everyone finally sat down.

I secretly glanced at him.

Professor Park noticed and hurriedly muttered an excuse.

The mask muffled his voice enough that it really did sound like mumbling.

"There are a lot of superstitions in artistic circles. You know that."

"For someone calling it a superstition...."

"And plenty of bizarre incidents create those superstitions in the first place. We live in an age where something bizarre can happen anywhere at any time."

Considering we'd both lived through the impossible experiences of Gates and Awakened appearing, I understood why Professor Park would say that....

Still, it was hard not to laugh at my former professor sitting there wearing a dokkaebi mask.

So I stopped talking.

And I know what a plentiful-catch ritual is anyway.

Such rituals were ceremonies offered mainly to the Dragon King or figures like Admiral Yi Sun-sin.

They prayed for calm waves at sea.

For full nets.

For fishing boats to safely return to land.

I'd thought they survived only as preserved cultural traditions.

I hadn't expected there to still be villages performing them sincerely.

Perhaps to change the mood, Grandfather's student began explaining the village's circumstances.

"It's not as though Hunters are stationed everywhere, or every region has its own guild. Especially villages like this along the coast. Most Gates appear underwater, so not even a small guild bothers establishing itself here."

"Ah...."

"That's why these shamanistic beliefs often spread as though they're truth. People need something, anything, to cling to."

"Listening to you, it doesn't sound like you personally believe it. Why follow it so seriously?"

Professor Park lifted the bottom of his mask slightly and sipped his tea.

"If an outsider wants to blend into a village, shouldn't he behave more like a villager than anyone else?"

"You seem a little too serious about dokkaebi for that."

I pointed toward the slightly open door.

Through the gap were dozens of dokkaebi masks, paintings, and books.

It looked like a studio.

And upon closer inspection, Kim I-sin was wearing a modernized hanbok.

The house was also filled with ceramics painted with the Four Gracious Plants and even replicas of Sainchamsageom swords.

Grandfather had painted Western-style art.

Seeing one of his students completely immersed in traditional Eastern culture was unusual.

"Well, that's true. At first, I came here because I felt suffocated and wanted to see the ocean. Then I encountered dokkaebi here and became completely fascinated."

Kim I-sin shifted the topic.

"Anyway, why exactly did you come looking for Grandfather's student? I'll warn you in advance. I wasn't under Teacher for very long, so I doubt I know much. But if there's something I do know, I'll tell you."

Once we reached the real topic, Professor Park leaned deeply into the sofa, clearly signaling that he would stay out of the conversation.

The two guards also quietly rose and moved away.

"Ah."

Kim I-sin's gaze settled entirely on me.

It didn't matter that he hadn't spent much time with Grandfather.

I had only learned that Grandfather even had students recently.

There hadn't been a single student who continued visiting him until the time he died.

I briefly explained the strange path Grandfather's posthumous work had taken.

Then I asked whether Kim I-sin knew anything.

"Hmm. No matter how far back I search my memory, I don't know anything about that. But it is possible that one of his students moved the posthumous work to Eumgil Village."

"Excuse me?"

"Teacher had quite a few students besides me. Not as many as Professor Park here, I'm sure. He never worked in academia."

"How many were there?"

"As far as I know, around thirteen including me. I was thrown out rather early, so there may have been more afterward."

"Thrown out?"

Click.

Kim I-sin picked up his teacup, then put it down again several times as though choosing his words.

"It was a turbulent era...."

Kim I-sin, one of Master Painter Do Jae-hwan's students, had believed that his teacher changed at a certain point.

And he could identify exactly when.

The Gyeongbokgung Collapse Incident.

A black dragon had emerged from an Eruption-Type Gate in the middle of Gwanghwamun.

It charged forward immediately.

Then it rampaged all the way to Gyeongbokgung Palace, destroying everything between.

People.

Animals.

Buildings.

Cars.

Everything.

By the time Hunters finally gathered and killed the dragon, half the Gyeongbokgung grounds had already been destroyed.

South Korea had been plunged into shock.

Even if it was merely the site of an old dynasty, it was one of the country's roots.

A symbol of the nation's spirit.

A place of pride.

It wouldn't have been an exaggeration to say layers upon layers of history had held up those palace grounds.

Seeing it destroyed in an instant devastated the public.

It was one of those moments when everyone believed the country was finished.

That there was no hope left.

That everything would eventually be trampled, crushed, and killed the same way.

Yet his teacher had apparently looked at that same scene and thought of something else entirely.

The collapse of art.

Before then, Do Jae-hwan had been someone who practically burned his life away on his own art.

No matter what anyone said, he painted.

He explored where his own art existed and what it meant.

Kim I-sin had become his student precisely because he'd been captivated by that freedom and stubbornness.

But after Teacher saw the news about the destruction of Gyeongbokgung, he gradually changed.

Before long, he began traveling constantly.

Even while Gates were bursting open everywhere, he sought out senior figures in the art world, former politicians, and wealthy patrons.

He still painted.

But less frequently.

Instead, he spent more time meeting people and practically shouting at them.

The way he treated his students changed too.

Before, he had smiled more fondly on students like Kim I-sin who endlessly dug into their own art.

Afterward, he drew closer to students with ambition.

"Look outside. Everyone can see only an inch in front of themselves. There are barely any sights left in their eyes, and the only sounds reaching their ears are their families screaming."

"Teacher...?"

"It's at times like this that people with great desire get things done. If we lock ourselves away in small rooms and do nothing but pursue art, then art itself will gradually be forgotten by the world."

Those words had pierced deeply into Kim I-sin's heart.

"Whether it's simply to survive, to climb higher, or because painting is the only skill they have and they refuse to starve.... We need people who will take their paintings and run through the world with them."

"...You're saying I'm not one of them?"

"That's right. The only thing you're interested in is your own painting."

Leaving Teacher had been half his choice and half not.

Teacher had pushed him away.

And Kim I-sin himself had believed there was no longer anything left he could learn from the man.

His teacher was no longer someone who cared most about his own art.

Preventing the world from forgetting art had become more important to him.

Kim I-sin didn't know what happened in Teacher's life afterward.

But when the social system gradually recovered and art universities still remained, he assumed Teacher had achieved at least some degree of success.

University majors reflected society, after all.

If art no longer existed in society itself, then perhaps Teacher had placed art inside the people who would shape society.

Kim I-sin had no idea what a man who seemed to possess neither money nor connections had sold in order to achieve his goal.

He hadn't especially wanted to know either.

But he was interested in Artist Do Hwa-in, the person who had brought him news of his teacher after all these years.

His eyes glittered brightly through the holes in the mask.

"If there was a student Teacher would entrust a posthumous work to, it was probably that person. Ryu Seon-hwa. There was someone among the students who was obviously overflowing with ambition."

"Do you happen to have her contact information?"

"No. But I can look into it."

"Then I'd appreciate your help."

"On one condition!"

Do Hwa-in looked at him curiously.

Kim I-sin met his eyes and hesitated slightly.

Thanks to Teacher, art had not completely collapsed.

Even so, this was an age in which art had become a luxury.

If something wasn't directly connected to survival, it was almost inevitably called a luxury.

Even the people in this village only kept the art of dokkaebi masks close because they believed it might help them survive.

But....

Do Hwa-in had dragged art back into the light in a world like this.

And he'd done it while focusing on his own work.

Kim I-sin had focused on his own work so completely that he'd turned his back on the world.

His teacher had focused so completely on saving art that he'd abandoned his own work.

But Do Hwa-in seemed to be achieving both.

Kim I-sin couldn't help his throat tightening.

Part of that emotion was embarrassment toward himself for having ignored the world.

And part was gratitude toward Do Hwa-in, who had shown him that his own path hadn't necessarily been completely wrong.

"On what condition?"

"Carve me one dokkaebi mask. The size doesn't matter. It can be small enough to fit in my palm."

Artist Do Hwa-in blinked several times.

He looked once at Professor Park.

Then once at Kim I-sin.

He seemed to be thinking.

Kim I-sin hesitated before finally revealing his real reason, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I'm a hardcore fan of yours."

"Grandfather's student is... my hardcore fan."

Do Hwa-in lowered his gaze as though thinking deeply.

Then he turned and picked up his bag.

Everyone's curious attention gathered on the sculptor's hands.

Ziiip.

Do Hwa-in pulled out a block of wood roughly three adult palms in size.

Looking more closely, the entire bag was filled with pieces of wood in different sizes.

Then he took a carving knife from the front pocket and smiled faintly.

"Is it okay if the mask can't actually be worn?"

"Of course. Does anyone actually swing around a sword bearing a Hunter's autograph?"

He meant he intended to preserve it safely in a display case.

Do Hwa-in shrugged.

Then he found a plastic bag somewhere, spread it beneath his feet, settled into position, and smoothly moved his woodcarving knife.

Scrape. Scrape....

The soft sound filled the living room.

Because everyone had even quieted their breathing, it sounded unusually loud.

As though he didn't feel their stares at all, Artist Do Hwa-in never once looked away from the block of wood.

His eyes had already seemed bright while speaking.

But now, looking at the sculpture, they were intense enough to feel almost fierce.

Incredible concentration.

And unbelievable speed.

...And finally, that miraculous delicacy, and the Aura blooming from it.

Kim I-sin was an artist himself.

That only made the sight more astonishing.

Artist Do Hwa-in looked as though he were performing magic with his fingertips.

Every movement of his wrist seemed to make the dokkaebi in his hands feed another spark into its growing flame of life.

The thought of what it would look like when finished was almost frightening.

Wasn't there an old Chinese story like that?

A painter drew a dragon so lifelike that when he finally painted in its eyes, the dragon burst from the painting and ascended into the sky.

Kim I-sin had participated in the plentiful-catch ritual every year since moving to this seaside village.

Yet only now did he feel as though he was truly meeting a dokkaebi.

If I told anyone this, they'd think I was exaggerating....

They'd probably think his fanboy instincts had turned him into a fool.

But soon, even those stray thoughts disappeared.

All of Kim I-sin's attention was sucked into Do Hwa-in's fingertips before he could even finish admiring them.

Several hours later, the small dokkaebi-mask sculpture was complete.

Kim I-sin's breathing was somehow rougher than mine, even though I was the one who had finished carving it.

Considering he'd apparently held his breath while watching the entire time, maybe that was natural.

The way he admired the little mask was incredibly animated.

The enormous dokkaebi mask on his head rattled as its decorative tassels shook wildly.

Isn't he moving a little too violently?

Kim I-sin's eyes flashed.

Seeing that expression from inside a dokkaebi mask made him look genuinely possessed.

Professor Park subtly leaned his upper body away, apparently wanting distance from the violently shaking Kim I-sin.

Then he quietly removed his own dokkaebi mask.

At this point, he seemed more afraid of becoming like Kim I-sin than of being dragged into the sea and killed.