Chapter 50

50

* * * *

Choi Yul-mok, the principal of the sculpture academy [Earth], got out of his car, panting. With a worried look, he hurried forward, his hand holding a phone.

The screen was lit. The time on the phone read 6:43 PM. It had been only about 30 minutes since he received a call from part-time teacher Kim Ho-jin, informing him that Kang Seok had arrived at the academy.

Considering he had said it would take quite a while, this was an early arrival.

Since it was a gathering organized by the sculptors of Seogyodong, who had studied under the same master, he had expected it to take a long time to leave.

– ‘A student called, so what else could I do but go?’

Thanks to the not-so-subtle order from Yang Seon-ku, the main character of the gathering, he could easily leave.

Yang Seon-ku, the patriarch of the sculpture world and a first-generation sculptor, had a powerful word. When he spoke, others always took it seriously.

Thus,

Thanks to Yang Seon-ku's words, Choi Yul-mok could leave the gathering like a bullet.

‘I should thank him later.’

Choi Yul-mok climbed the stairs. A musty smell rose. It was a mix of clay and dust. Come to think of it, with the new semester and Yang Seon-ku's return overlapping, the vice-principal and I have been busy lately.

‘I should contact the cleaning service today. Will they take the call at this hour?’

Dust can mix with the air conditioning and cause harmful effects on the respiratory system, so he always made sure to clean every few months. Choi Yul-mok reflected on having forgotten the cleaning schedule.

He had been too romantic about seeing Yang Seon-ku. Whenever he thought of Yang Seon-ku, he was reminded of his younger self, who dreamed of becoming a sculptor.

Most of the people in the art school entrance exam scene, including Seogyodong, had once been artists before they became businessmen. Lost in thought, Choi Yul-mok shook his head and opened the door.

Ding, the door opened, and Choi Yul-mok stepped into the academy. The academy was unusually quiet today. What's going on? Is something wrong? Choi Yul-mok walked down the hallway with a serious expression.

The academy was set up with transparent reinforced glass walls, so the inside was clearly visible. The reason for today's unusual quietness was that the entrance exam class near the entrance was particularly quiet. It wasn't an exam day today, so why was it so quiet? Choi Yul-mok turned his head.

And there, a woman with a clay-like complexion stood.

“·········!”

To be precise, it was the woman's face.

Her face and overall appearance were blurry, as if dust had gotten in his eyes.

Choi Yul-mok raised his hand to wipe his eyes. No matter how much he looked, it wasn't clear. It was perplexing, considering he had good eyesight for someone over fifty.

First, he saw the elegant hairstyle, the hairpin, and the ribbon, all suitable for a wedding. She looked pure.

It took some time to realize that everything was in a single clay-like color, a diverse beauty.

Why would a woman in such traditional Korean attire be in our academy... Wait, everything is clay-like. Is there anything else in a sculpture academy that is clay-like?

······Mud.

It was mud.

Clay.

Only then did he realize that the problem wasn't with his eyesight but that the face was still in the process of being formed, and the features were not yet distinct.

It was so incomplete that he was amazed he had mistaken it for a person.

Why would someone be making such clay in our academy? As he thought this, he noticed a male student moving his hands behind the butterfly-shaped hairpin.

A familiar black art smock. A familiar hairstyle. A strong, not-so-innocent face. A height that hadn't fully grown.

Despite meeting him for over two months and a week, he recognized him easily because he had seen him so often.

It was Kang Seok.

Choi Yul-mok's mouth dropped open as he looked at Kang Seok.

·········Kang Seok made this? How? That was the only thought he could have at the moment.

This was a different kind of shock from receiving news about his sketches, murals, or three-dimensional flowers during the break.

Think about it.

Is the talent for painting the same as the talent for sculpture? Remember when the great Leonardo da Vinci failed to create a bronze equestrian statue.

Is the skill of shaping glass the same as shaping clay? Think about how the great artist Michelangelo struggled to make a bronze statue after making a plaster statue.

There's a saying that all roads lead to Rome, but isn't this a bit extreme...?

To have made this beautiful woman in just forty minutes after skipping the academy for over two months and a week. It was unbelievable.

He had just heard from Kim Ho-jin that he had arrived not long ago. Even if he calculated the time, it couldn't have been more than forty minutes. How did he manage to shape the chest, neck, and face, and even the elaborate hairstyle and hairpin in such a short time?

It was astonishing that he could complete such a complex task in such a short time.

It was difficult unless the hands were made of molds.

No, even with molds, it would be difficult to capture the center of gravity.

At this moment, the only thought occupying Choi Yul-mok's mind was:

This is the level.

Seeing is believing. As Choi Yul-mok stood there, dazed, looking at Kang Seok through the glass wall, Kang Seok slowly stepped back. Just as with painting or sculpture, one needs to step back to see the whole picture, not just the details.

As Kang Seok stepped back to look at the woman, his eyes met Choi Yul-mok's.

“Principal.”

“······Seok, Seok.”

“You came?”

Ignoring the other students who were staring at him, Kang Seok took off his apron. He then threw the sculpting tools stuck on his fingers, along with the apron, down.

Seeing the items fit neatly into a large tarpaulin bag under the workbench, Choi Yul-mok came to his senses. The tarpaulin bag, which usually only came out for competitions or long-distance travel, made the situation clear.

He really came to quit.

After roughly cleaning the clay with a wet wipe, Kang Seok checked if anything was left behind and turned around without hesitation.

He approached as if his class was over, carrying the tarpaulin bag on his shoulder, with a smile. Kang Seok's face, which usually gave a sense of being chased, looked unusually calm today.

“Since you said you wouldn't charge for the class today, I just played with it while waiting.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Leaving the wet wipe in the trash can, he looked back to check if his seat was dirty. Then, Kang Seok walked towards the hallway where Choi Yul-mok was standing.

···He was just playing with it? His gaze kept returning to the clay woman through the glass wall.

Choi Yul-mok fixed his gaze on Kang Seok, who stood in front of him, and asked with difficulty.

“Did you have a good break...?”

“Yes, very good.”

“That's good. But seeing you bring the tarpaulin bag...”

Are you quitting? Choi Yul-mok swallowed the rest of his words. The heavy bag already seemed to indicate a firm decision.

Kang Seok nodded as if confirming his thoughts.

“Yes, I could have told you over the phone, but since I've been here since middle school, I thought it was right to come and tell you in person. I also need to pick this up.”

Kang Seok lifted the tarpaulin bag on his shoulder.

Since he had been leaving it at the academy since his first year of middle school, he had accumulated many items.

A spray bottle, a towel with his name tag, a rubber spatula and a bamboo spatula he received for his birthday, wooden supports his father cut for him, a rope they found together in the storage, a work apron his mother washed and decorated with characters every week, an apron with a heart doodle by Kang Chae-young, and a work uniform inherited from his father.

Each item was worn and dear to him.

Seeing them brought back the years he spent at the academy. He first stepped into this academy, [Earth], with his father in his first year of middle school. It had been six years, or five years if you didn't count this year.

A college entrance exam student.

Especially for those preparing for art school, the time spent at the academy is never short.

During breaks, he would come from noon to five, and then from six to ten. On weekends, he would be at the academy from nine or ten in the morning until seven in the evening, eating and studying there.

Sometimes, with the principal's consideration, he would come again in the evening for a discounted price.

It had been five years, a long time spent at the academy.

Kang Seok looked at Choi Yul-mok again.

He had been with Choi Yul-mok since the academy was small.

Before the academy grew, even when his grades didn't improve, the teacher would still take him out for a hearty bowl of national soup once a week, pat his back, and send him off, saying his skills would improve someday.

He remembered running to the academy before it closed, with the radish in his mouth unsure if it went in through his mouth or nose.

Kang Seok glanced at the entrance exam class, which felt open and transparent, paused for a moment, and then slowly said,

“I'm quitting the academy.”

Choi Yul-mok couldn't even suggest sitting down or talking in the counseling room.

He wanted to ask, but it couldn't be.

“Are you giving up on art...?”

“No.”

“...Then, are you going the SKY route?”

SKY refers to the student recommendation system.

The question was whether he planned to enter an art school through the recommendation system without a practical exam.

Kang Seok didn't answer and just looked at Choi Yul-mok.

For some reason, Choi Yul-mok felt as if Kang Seok was asking when did art become synonymous with entering an art school. It was unlikely, but Choi Yul-mok felt a pang of guilt.

If it were another student, he might have said, "With your grades, you can't get into a good university. The only reason you can get into a good university is because you're preparing for art school. So, you shouldn't quit the academy."

He might have tried to hold onto him with harsh words. But Choi Yul-mok couldn't bring himself to say anything.

Perhaps it was because he remembered how Kang Seok, frustrated with his uncooperative hands, would sometimes even redden his eyes and move his hands as if hating them.

Or maybe it was because he remembered Yang Seon-ku's words, "If a student calls, you should go."

Choi Yul-mok couldn't bring himself to say the words he had repeated dozens of times a year.

“Thank you for everything.”

Kang Seok bowed his head silently and turned around. Choi Yul-mok was speechless, as if he had become mute.

‘It's over.’

Kang Seok adjusted the heavy tarpaulin bag on his shoulder and slowly descended the stairs. The stairs were quiet, making the reality of quitting the academy more palpable.

Just a few more steps, and he would be out the entrance.

“...Seok!”

Choi Yul-mok's voice stopped him in his tracks.

Kang Seok slowly turned around.

Choi Yul-mok's face, illuminated by the light, was radiant. With a face that seemed to be both crying and smiling, Choi Yul-mok said to Kang Seok,

“Take care.”

“...Yes.”

“Come visit when you're bored, even years later.”

“...”

“If you come back successful, I'll treat you to a bowl of naejangtang. And,”

“...”

“If you come back to work, don't expect any broth.”

Kang Seok suppressed a smile. His throat felt tight. He smiled brightly and replied,

“Yes.”

Kang Seok bowed his head again and moved forward. There was no need to look back.

* * * *

The evening sky was a mix of blue and purple.

Park Ji-yeop looked up at the sign. The place, converted from a garage, was tightly closed, as if telling him not to enter. Park Ji-yeop felt a strange sense of disconnection, wondering if a studio could be so closed off. On the other hand, it made the reality that Kang Seok was working here more tangible. The images Kang Seok had sent him flashed through his mind. The intermediate stages were so realistic that anyone would think he had dismembered a human.

If Kang Seok hadn't sent the video of the making process, even Park Ji-yeop would have misunderstood. That's why he came to confirm. More precisely, he couldn't bear to see it with his own eyes.

Park Ji-yeop had a premonition.

Seven pieces? Just this one would be enough to overshadow the Inche project. He was told to ring the bell, but where was it?

With dark circles under his eyes from continuous all-nighters, Park Ji-yeop looked around.

That's when,

“Who are you?”

Who was loitering in front of his place? A middle-aged man with a wary look in his eyes stared at Park Ji-yeop. He had a bandit-like build. Park Ji-yeop slightly bowed his head to the man, who looked twice his size, and asked,

“Are you the owner of this studio?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I'm Professor Park Ji-yeop from the Department of Visual Arts at Hanyang University. I heard that a student named Kang Seok is working here, so I came to meet him today.”

“S, Mr. Kang Seok?”

“Mr. Kang Seok?”

Who would call Kang Seok, a student, 'Mr.'? Park Ji-yeop was taken aback by the man's wide-eyed expression and looked back at the sign.

“Come in.”

The middle-aged man slightly opened the garage door and gestured for him to come in quickly. Despite calling himself the owner, he opened the door just a crack, and his lively expression didn't match his aged appearance.

Swallowing his small doubts, Park Ji-yeop slowly followed the middle-aged man.

.

.

.

“Mr. Kang. Mr. Kang.”

After coming straight from the academy and having a meal, Kang Seok raised an eyebrow. Jo Dong-beom, who always called him 'teacher,' only did so in one situation.

When someone else was around.

“Mr. Kang, a visitor is here.”

Behind Jo Dong-beom, Park Ji-yeop's face was visible over his shoulder. Kang Seok suppressed a short exclamation. He remembered he was supposed to visit today. He slightly bowed his head and stood up.

“Professor, you're here?”

“Kang Seok, it's been a while.”

With a welcoming nod, Park Ji-yeop glanced around. He was clearly looking for the completed Marktop 1. Kang Seok slightly smiled and pointed to one side.

“Marktop 1 is over there.”

Following Kang Seok's finger, Park Ji-yeop's gaze moved. In the shadows, a peach-colored figure was visible. As he approached the figure, which was initially obscured by the darkness, his eyes adjusted, and the peach color gradually turned into a pinkish skin tone, resembling pigskin.

A human.

There was a human with closed eyes.

“Wow... wow... this is!”

Park Ji-yeop, without even trying to suppress his exclamation, approached the model called Marktop, neither extending nor lowering his arm. The skin was human-like, whether viewed from a distance or up close.

Looking at the body of an age that was neither young nor old, Park Ji-yeop took a deep breath. The fact that this human model contained actual human organs was astonishing. It took Kang Seok four days of working through the night, but recalling the models he had seen in the video, even that seemed short.

It was beyond human capability.

Sometimes, a human from the heavens mistakenly descends to the earth. Park Ji-yeop, with a face of resignation, looked back at Kang Seok. On the