The unprecedented “Special Exhibition of the Grotesque” closed successfully.
Regardless of whether they were Awakened or ordinary people, the three syllables of the na “Sim Ah-ryeon” were carved into the hearts of everyone on the Korean Peninsula.
“Artist Sim Ah-ryeon! Please sign for !”
“ too! Your works were truly inspiring! It’s hard to even pick which one I liked best!”
“Uh, eheh. Yes……”
“Can we take a photo together, artist?!”
“Huh? No. I really hate that……”
“Eh.”
“Eh.”
Of course, even the audience, unknowingly, could sense with instinct that perhaps this painter’s ntal state was not entirely intact.
But then, weren’t geniuses always like that?
Human personality was a matter of packaging. Even Sim Ah-ryeon’s eccentricity, when labeled with titles like “artist,” “genius painter,” or “painter of grotesque madness,” beca a kind of charming point instead.
Even if a person were perfect, the only ones who would like them would be Plato or Confucius. Unless your joy in life was to be adored by old n, for people, an appropriate flaw was no different from a proper breathing hole.
“Just like my passionate love for Romance of the Three Kingdoms is such a thing for , the Undertaker.”
[Hey, Mr. Jang. If you’ve got ti to spout nonsense, hurry up and move the stuff.]
“Yes, miss.”
[Good.]
After being scolded by Ha Yul, I sullenly directed the demolition of the gallery’s temporary building.
Since the exhibition was over, clearing the Babel Tower plaza was the natural next step.
This Babel Tower plaza had sotis been used by the holess, and street vendors flourished there. So monopolizing it for too long wouldn’t be good.
“Ah.”
At that mont, Sim Ah-ryeon ca running from the corner of the exhibition hall.
“G-Guild Master! Please don’t clear it away yet!”
“Hm? Why? The exhibition’s over today.”
“Well…”
Sim Ah-ryeon twisted her index fingers together.
“It—it’s a secret!”
“A secret?”
“Y-yes. There’s sothing I want to show Guild Master… If possible, could you please not dismantle it for about a week?”
“Uh.”
I was slightly taken aback.
“Noh Doha, the district captain, will probably rush us and ask why we haven’t cleared out yet.”
“T-the gallery doesn’t have to be this big! As long as it’s large enough for Guild Master and to walk around, it’s enough.”
“Hmm.”
If it’s just that much—
“Wait, let’s see. You an it’s fine if we don’t use the whole plaza but reduce it to about one-fifth the size, right?”
“Yes!”
“Alright. I’ll handle it.”
“Ehehe. Th-thank you! As expected, Guild Master is the best…”
Because of Sim Ah-ryeon’s strange request, the demolition was imdiately halted. The marionette labor corps led by Ha Yul also bustled back.
“P-please, absolutely. Until I say it’s okay, you must not enter the gallery!”
“Nobody?”
“Nobody! I-it’s a total secret! A huge, huge secret… If you peek without permission, even if you’re Guild Master, I won’t forgive you…”
If it were anyone else, it would be one thing, but I was actually afraid of Sim Ah-ryeon’s threats, so I obediently left.
If anyone wishes to know the reason for my fear, they should go back to the earlier episodes and refer to the posts [OldManGoyro] and [Northern Saintess] uploaded on SGNet.
“Saintess, do you know anything?”
[No.]
I exchanged telepathic ssages not with the fake Saintess, but the real Saintess, yet gained nothing.
[Ah-ryeon pleaded with too, not to peek at all.]
“She’s been shut inside the gallery for four days straight now without coming out… I’m worried.”
After the demolition was postponed, Sim Ah-ryeon surrounded the entire exhibition with a white tent. Then she went inside and started tinkering with sothing—click, click, click.
She cut off all contact and communication.
Twice a day, if I left her als by the entrance, before I knew it, a hand would quickly stretch out from the tent and snatch away the tray.
Her bare arms, seen briefly as she reached out, were all covered in paint.
“Judging by that, she’s clearly working on sothing again inside.”
It was strange.
“But the grotesques she could possibly paint have already all been completed as works. The exhibition ended successfully too. What could she still be painting?”
[Maybe she’s making a piece she only wants the Undertaker to see?]
The Saintess said gently.
[Ah-ryeon surely knows how much you’ve done for her, Undertaker.]
[So perhaps she’s preparing a kind of gift in return. That’s my guess.]
“My goodness.”
What a touching act this was.
‘Ah, my Ah-ryeon is becoming more and more human! This Guild Master feels tears welling up from joy!’
In fact, tears really were flowing down my face.
[…Undertaker, you really are utterly devoted to Ah-ryeon, aren’t you.]
“Well, I’m witnessing in real ti the very process of a primate evolving into a human being—it’s deeply moving for an intellectual.”
[What?]
“Eh?”
The promised week passed.
That day, in the morning, I was brushing Ha Yul’s hair while sipping café au lait.
Since the green-haired coffee thief who used to appear like a ninja to steal her share of caffeine wasn’t around, I felt a slight emptiness.
Kkadok!
A notification popped up on my smartphone.
• Northern Saintess: Barista-nim.
Sim Ah-ryeon had sent a ssage.
It was a private chat sent through the secret chatroom that Seo-gyu had made on SGNet using his ability—one accessible only to mbers of the Regression Alliance.
I smoothly opened the one-on-one secret chat function and replied.
-ZERO_SUGAR: Y?
-Northern Saintess: I humbly inform you that all preparations are complete. Please co alone to the agreed location tonight at 11 PM.
-ZERO_SUGAR: OK.
So it’s finally ready.
‘Why am I strangely excited about this?’
The thought that I might, for the first ti in my life, receive a proper gift from the green coffee thief filled with a cocktail of excitent and affection called “nostalgia.”
Kkadok!
-Northern Saintess: Also, please note that there will be a strict dress code. Kindly refrain from using the seven-colored perfu you usually wear.
-Northern Saintess: Then, I’ll see you tonight.
I paused at the follow-up ssage.
I couldn’t figure out what relation there could be between a dress code and perfu.
But more than that, an intangible unease seeped out from the ordinary-looking text, spreading slowly through .
“……”
Night ca, and I went to the exhibition hall.
These days, 11 PM felt quite different from the old 11 PM.
In the past, brilliant modern civilization forced insomnia upon people. But now, except around casinos, the whole of Busan was wrapped in deep silence.
“Ah.”
Therefore, Sim Ah-ryeon’s brightly lit gallery in this quiet district looked like a light trap for moths—or a fishing light out on the sea at night.
“W-welco… Guild Master!”
Sim Ah-ryeon was waiting at the entrance of the exhibition hall.
Though she had talked about a dress code in the chat, her own outfit was terrible.
Her entire body was splattered with paint and ssy.
She’d thrown on a doctor’s gown just to cover it barely, but even the white gown was stained in various places.
However—
“Ah-ryeon. That thing in your pocket.”
“Ah?!”
Sim Ah-ryeon hastily shoved the white veil sticking out of her doctor’s coat pocket back in.
“T-this is a secret! Secret!”
“You’ve been saying ‘secret’ all week, and there’s still another secret?”
“Yes! Haah, i-it was really close. I haven’t felt this rushed since my graduation exhibition deadline. I haven’t had those dreams in a while, but before, whenever my condition got a little bad, I’d always have those graduation-exhibition nightmares…”
Sim Ah-ryeon suddenly ca close and sniffed .
There was no context, but this child was always like that.
To begin with, words and language had never held much aning for Sim Ah-ryeon.
“Ah, y-you didn’t spray it… the scent.”
“I didn’t realize you disliked that perfu. You never showed it before.”
“Eh? Oh, I don’t dislike it. It’s just that if you slled like it today, there could’ve been a problem…”
“Why?”
“Eh? Uuum. That scent ans Guild Master always has Yoo Ji-won in one corner of your mind.”
Ehehe.
Sim Ah-ryeon laughed bashfully.
“So it would interfere with imrsion… with viewing the exhibition. It’s distracting, so I got rid of it.”
“……”
Question:
Does Sim Ah-ryeon hate Yoo Ji-won?
Answer:
She does not. That’s impossible.
Counter-question:
Does Sim Ah-ryeon hate anyone at all?
Response:
She does not. That’s impossible.
Inquiry:
Why is it impossible?
Reply:
Because while one can dislike cockroaches as a whole, picking out and hating a single cockroach in particular would be very strange indeed.
“P-please, co in, Guild Master. I really worked hard, staying up all week! Honestly, I think these are my life’s best works.”
Sim Ah-ryeon suddenly took my hand and led inside.
The gallery — a labyrinth of sight, covered entirely in partitions and white tents, north, south, east, and west.
“Taa-da, taa, ta-daah!”
The exhibition that had received rave reviews from all — from the district commander to guild leaders, Awakened ones, and ordinary people alike —
Every painting in that place had been blacked out.
ssily. Incoherently. Like graffiti.
The paintings that had so brilliantly depicted grotesques — were all ruined.
Pieces that soone might have paid billions to collect had vanished, replaced by hideously distorted overpaintings coiled like nests.
“……”
My mouth went dry.
“What… is this, Ah-ryeon?”
“Huh?”
It was the obvious question.
The portraits housed in this gallery had been the last treasures born of human art. And now, she had painstakingly ruined them all over the course of a week.
But upon hearing my question, Sim Ah-ryeon made an expression of puzzlent.
Just like earlier.
When I’d asked, “Why shouldn’t I wear perfu?” — her reaction then had been exactly the sa.
How strange.
She seed to think, Why is Guild Master asking sothing he already knows?
“Wh…at you’re asking, well— this is how Guild Master sees the grotesques, right?”
My heart thudded.
I barely suppressed the trembling of my tongue.
“You’re saying, the grotesques I see look like this?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you think so?”
“Well… because Guild Master has perfect mory, right?”
Sim Ah-ryeon tilted her head.
“M-mory is association. It’s not that different from perception. The apple you see right now and the apple you saw three years ago — to a person, both are visual information.”
“……”
“But ordinary people find current perception far more vivid. Of course! The one before your eyes is clear, while the apple in mory is blurry and mushy… B-but! Guild Master is different!”
Sim Ah-ryeon continued.
Like a college student explaining her piece before a panel of judges. Like a curator guiding visitors to the true aning of her work.
With conviction.
“They’re both the sa… aren’t they?”
She smiled, ehehe.
“Uh, look here, Guild Master— the Shijok!”
The Shijok painting had changed completely from what I’d seen a week ago at the “Day Exhibition.”
In the “Night Exhibition” version, the portrait of Shijok showed the remains of Dang Seo Rin, with her chest pierced and limbs severed.
“B-because of the Shijok, sothing very precious to you died, Guild Master. Because you have perfect mory, while normal people separate what’s before their eyes from what’s in mory — though they overlap sotis, the clear and the blurry are distinct…”
She led before a massive painting.
Sim Ah-ryeon pressed her palms together.
“But Guild Master isn’t like that. You can’t. Because you literally have perfect mory… The Shijok of the present and the Shijoks of the past all overlap equally before your eyes.”
“……”
“I-I think it’s amazing. Picasso’s Cubism tried to paint human perception not only in the present but overlapping recollection and prediction — but honestly, that was painting from the ‘head,’ not the senses. He didn’t actually see the present, past, and future with equal tone and color. It’s kind of cheap, you know? Claiming to pursue fundantal intuition but arriving there by intellect instead. But… Guild Master isn’t like that! You’re a living human Cubism!”
“……”
“When you see a single Shijok — say, across a thousand regressions — you’re looking at a thousand Shijoks at once! Well, most of them probably behaved similarly, so they blur together sowhat… eheh. So envious, Guild Master.”
Sim Ah-ryeon twisted her body.
“Guild Master is… a living, moving exhibition hall. Different from those who just say their intuition is unique. Guild Master… wow. You’re real.”
“……”
“Umm. But it’s strange. Why does Guild Master always tell to paint from others’ perspective, not your own? Guild Master’s perspective is so, so much more interesting, a hundred million tis more…”
My throat dried up.
My mouth had long since gone barren.
The saliva thick under my tongue felt not like moisture but like a swamp dragging my tongue down.
“How—.”
“Because I was thinking about Guild Master.”
The answer ca instantly.
I didn’t even need to finish the sentence How did you know? — because in her mind, my words were already complete.
“Every single day.”
Skip. Lines omitted.
It often happened when speaking with Sim Ah-ryeon alone.
As I said before, words and language themselves didn’t hold much aning for her.
“I—I actually find Guild Master amazing. You can see it all. You must see it all. How can you act so perfectly despite that…”
“See it all?”
“Our deaths.”
“……”
“You see them, don’t you? Even now.”
Step. Sim Ah-ryeon approached.
“Be-being decapitated. Limbs blown off by grotesques. Bloodstains. All those mories— you see them all vividly before your eyes, right?”
“……”
“A-amazing. Guild Master! Maybe your greatest talent isn’t your intuition but your acting…”
Rustle.
Sim Ah-ryeon pulled sothing from her pocket — the veil she had crumpled earlier. The veil of the Saintess’s robe.
“U-umm, so… ah, here.”
She spread the veil, then placed it on her head.
Step, step.
Walking down the gallery corridor, she knelt beneath the largest painting at the center.
Title:
“World Tree Udumbara.”
Where brilliant petals should have danced in abundance,
It was overpainted — depicting the corpse of Sim Ah-ryeon herself, limbs twisted like old wood.
As if showing her corrupted after-story, fallen while defending against a monster wave.
“……”
I could recognize it.
No — in this world, only I could truly imrse myself in the true aning of these masterpieces of the “Night Exhibition.”
“Whenever Guild Master brushes my hair,”
Sim Ah-ryeon, kneeling with her back to , babbled softly.
“I can feel it. So many emotions. Sorrow. Resentnt. Regret. Gratitude. So, so dense and rich emotions…”
“……”
“So I thought. Ah, co to think of it, I must’ve acted as the Northern Saintess in the Final Defense War. The Eastern Divine Nation participated too, right? Then I would’ve worn the Saintess’s robes… And if I fell into corruption, I couldn’t show that sight to the believers. Ah, so I’d cover my whole head with a veil. So…”
Her shoulders trembled slightly as she knelt with her back turned to .
“Ehehe. I thought, this must be my final form! How is it? Am I right?”
“……”
“G-Guild Master. Now.”
Sim Ah-ryeon smiled.
“Please, brush my hair.”
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