Chapter 85

85

* * * *

Michelangelo had to create sketches in preparation for the frescoes in the Sistine Chapel.

Generally, one might think that the designs could be sufficiently derived by relying entirely on nude models to pose. Everyone thought Michelangelo would do the same.

However, Michelangelo did not.

This means he did not use nude models to fulfill all the hundreds of poses required for the Sistine Chapel.

There was already so much in his mind that he couldn't do it that way.

For example, the antique objects in Florence and Rome... Among them, the Greek-style reliefs in Rome and the ancient gemstone carvings cherished by Lorenzo de' Medici in Florence.

Or the sketches of 'Pigurescenze' that Michelangelo had copied and modified?

In any case, his mind was alive with the countless copies and sketches he had drawn. His boundless memory for drawings made this possible.

He just had to pull out what he had already put in his mind and quote it.

And, that's what he did.

* * * *

It had been about three days since Gangseok returned and started working.

Numerous analysis videos were made about Gangseok's sculpture, mostly by large YouTubers.

There was a reason for this.

Gangseok broadcasted live throughout his work, and during the entire broadcast, he never looked at a common smartphone or computer, nor did he look at prints or reference books in a somewhat old-fashioned way.

He didn't even glance at photos.

This meant that Gangseok was working without looking at anything.

It started with a peaceful admiration in the chat room.

Someone praised Gangseok's marvel as usual, but upon praising it, they realized it was unbelievable.

Some people tried to find the sources that Gangseok had referenced, even using Google image search, to find out if there was any perfect creation.

The result was a failure.

There was no matching source, not even a similar one.

Even if they found a similar hand shape, it was often rejected because it was a delicate woman's hand, not a rough man's hand, or because it lacked muscle.

It was also claimed that Gangseok's hand must be the model, but this too sank into obscurity when it was revealed through image comparison that the hand in the marble being carved was of a different age and shape from the high school student Gangseok's hand.

From then on, people began to analyze the way Gangseok sculpted, and this became the current situation as YouTubers started consuming it as content.

The art YouTubers all concluded that it was unbelievable, but they also acknowledged that he was doing it.

Unaware of the commotion, Gangseok just kept working hard with his chisel and hammer.

What flashed through Gangseok's mind at every moment was the hands of the many gym members he had seen over several months while working out.

Every day, the members' hands, which grabbed bars, pulled, held, resisted, pushed far, lifted, and caused a commotion, were no different from those of a woodsman swinging an ax every day.

With excellent material, Gangseok digitized it in his mind, changed the composition as he wished, selected it to fit the body type, created habits, and attached muscles and calluses as those habits would form.

As if editing, Gangseok's eyes blinked a few times, and then he struck the chisel with the hammer again.

That's how he was making the hands.

It was a method possible only because it was Gangseok.

As he approached the sculpture with an incredible method that no one could know unless they looked inside his mind, an amazing work was being created even with just the hands.

While the desperate desire to grasp something was being completed in Gangseok's hands, people were shouting.

They were begging to see the finished product.

But their pleas were not fulfilled this time either.

— I'll stop broadcasting here for now and do it again next time. I have somewhere to go. See you next time.

With a brief greeting, Gangseok turned off the broadcast without hesitation.

It was December 9th.

* * * *

December 11th.

A night where dark trees stretched their heads into the darkness.

Gang Chae-young placed her laptop on the large walnut dining table that Gangseok insisted on buying with his own money, and tapped the keyboard. Whistling a tune, Gang Chae-young swung her feet under the spacious table.

Now, she no longer sat at the corner of the table but had a proper place of her own. The spacious table, which was responsible for morning, noon, evening, and midnight conversations, was her favorite place in the house.

Even though her parents let Gangseok buy it, it seemed that Gang Chae-young was using it the most.

‘I’m fine with that, anyway.’

“Whistling a tune.”

Gang Chae-young, who was tapping the keyboard while whistling, was watched by Baek Myung-hee, who was happily peeling fruit.

“You seem happy that your brother is here.”

“Yeah.”

Gang Chae-young's eyes were still glued to the computer as she gave a casual answer.

Click.

Baek Myung-hee pressed the button on the carbonated water maker.

Each time she pressed the button, the gas from the connected carbon dioxide cylinder filled the tumbler, and after a while, the sound of the gas being fully filled could be heard.

Baek Myung-hee, who had removed the remaining gas from the tumbler, poured the carbonated water into a glass filled with a mixture of yuja and tangerine syrup, and smiled.

Next to it was a bowl filled with rabbit-shaped apples she had peeled herself, with a fork neatly placed on top. Both the bowl and the fork were things Baek Myung-hee had made one by one while visiting various workshops.

It meant that she had more leisure in her life.

It seemed that the luck that Gangseok had brought when he made it was paying off, and as his work progressed smoothly, Baek Myung-hee and Kang Hyun's work was also naturally going well.

Gang Chae-young tapped the computer.

Baek Myung-hee asked with a smile.

“So, how’s the part-time job going?”

“Yeah, it’s going well.”

The improved foreign language skills from running the fan cafe were useful in various jobs.

Gang Chae-young and Yun Yuran, who ran the fan cafe, did not let their improved foreign language skills go to waste.

Gang Chae-young, who started doing small translation part-time jobs through a freelance market, tapped the keyboard.

The part-time job, which she started as a study, was progressing quite satisfactorily.

Yun Yuran, who always read foreign languages for community activities, translated foreign languages into Korean, while Gang Chae-young, who often wrote in English for foreigners on the fan cafe, translated Korean into foreign languages.

Since translating Korean into foreign languages was more expensive than using Google Translate to translate foreign languages into Korean, Gang Chae-young was doing better.

Gang Chae-young's pay was 16 won per character (excluding spaces) for translating Korean into English.

Since she was still a high school student, the price did not rise significantly based on the type of text or deadline, but the number of people looking for her was increasing day by day.

“By the way, what is my brother doing?”

After arriving home and having dinner, Gangseok had no intention of coming out of the small studio he had set up in the Seongbuk-dong mansion.

Baek Myung-hee shrugged and moved with the fruit bowl and yuja tangerine syrup.

“Well, according to your father, he’s creating some side income from Miami Beach... Hmm. I don’t know?”

Gang Chae-young, who had been watching Baek Myung-hee move away from the studio, turned back to the screen.

“Well, he’ll do it his way.”

In the bright light, Gang Chae-young tapped the laptop.

It was a cozy evening.

* * * *

December 12th.

In the heart of winter.

The morning at Incheon Airport, where people gathered to attend Art Basel in Miami Beach.

Jin Doo-wook, the curator, blinked and asked.

“What are those suitcases for?”

Jin Doo-wook blinked at the sight of Gangseok pulling two suitcases.

It was unfamiliar to see Gangseok, who had never dressed up before, carrying suitcases for an overseas trip.

I thought his luggage would be the simplest of all. Come to think of it, was this his first overseas trip?

Gangseok laughed and said it was nothing.

“They sell goods like that at art fairs, right? That’s what Investigator Jo said...”

Investigator Jo.

It was Jo Dong-beom’s name.

Someone who didn’t know much about art fairs gave such advice to Gangseok. It seemed he had done a lot of research. Jin Doo-wook, the curator, nodded in agreement.

“That’s true, but...”

“So, I made some.”

Jin Doo-wook nodded blankly and approached Gangseok.

“C... Can I open it?”

“Of course.”

Jin Doo-wook cautiously reached out to the suitcase Gangseok handed him.

When the suitcase was opened, a box filled with signatures and a long, colorful, transparent object wrapped in bubble wrap were visible.

What is it?

Before he could voice his curiosity, Jin Doo-wook’s hand moved first.

He opened the rough, square-shaped box first.

Inside the box was a small, square glass bottle with a lid.

Just by looking at it, Jin Doo-wook thought he knew what it was. No way. With somewhat quick movements, Jin Doo-wook took out the glass bottle. As he did, his eyes grew wider.

The glass bottle contained a sunset.

It was a sunset he had seen many times before.

It was clearly the sunset from the series of sunsets he had expressed with ink.

Jin Doo-wook, who knew a bit about fountain pens and ink, gently shook the ink bottle.

“Is it pigment?”

“It’s dye.”

Dye.

It meant it was water-based ink that could be diluted with water.

...With a viscosity high enough to be used as paint, but dye?

It’s amazing.

Although it was called dye, it was so thick that it could be mistaken for high-viscosity pigment (oil-based). No, it was even thicker. The ink itself felt as thick as paint when viewed through the glass bottle.

Jin Doo-wook shook the ink bottle back and forth.

It seemed to have a watercolor-like transparency when viewed this way. In any case, dye meant that it could be written smoothly without any breaks in the flow.

‘To give such a smooth writing feel with such a thick texture. If it’s real, it would be incredible...’

While Jin Doo-wook was amazed and rolling the ink bottle.

The morning sun shone through the Incheon Airport window.

As the sunlight hit the ink bottle, the color of the tilted ink bottle changed.

“...It’s sheen.”

Sheen (shimmer, edge) refers to ink that changes color depending on the angle of light or shows a different color border when dry, and it seemed that this technique was used.

And in the dark, the pearlescent effect that was not visible before began to spread from the inside like a galaxy.

“This is...”

“Shimmer (pearl). While working, the dust from the stone felt like stardust spread across the night sky, so I thought it would be good to add something like that to the ink. There are stars beyond the sky, you know.”

Gangseok’s face, explaining excitedly, turned into that of a child.

He said he intentionally put less pearlescent effect to make it lie quietly under the shimmer and added that he wanted to capture the scenery beyond the sky in the ink.

Jin Doo-wook, the curator, looked down at the ink bottle blankly.

Making pearlescent ink was as difficult as making sheen ink.

Of course, there were brands that implemented these two techniques in one ink, but those were brands, and Gangseok was an individual.

Jin Doo-wook looked at the ink bottles blankly.

“Are they all the same color...?”

“Yes, they are.”

To have produced this much quantity... by mixing two techniques and manufacturing the exact amount.

“...Have you ever made fountain pens or ink before?”

“No.”

“Then, when did you start preparing this merchandise... when you said you wanted to go to Art Basel Miami Beach with our Bloom Art Museum? Or when you made the series...?”

Forgetting that it might be impolite, Jin Doo-wook’s lips moved incessantly.

People who knew Jin Doo-wook, who never lost his tension and fear, would be surprised by his calm tone, but they were not there now.

Since Gangseok was always familiar with being asked questions.

He answered in a casual tone as if it was nothing.

“Three days ago.”

“Three... days...?”

Three days ago, it was