Chapter 408
The unprecedented 『Anomaly Special Exhibition』 concluded with resounding success.
Without distinguishing between the awakened and ordinary people, the name "Sim Ah-ryeon" became firmly imprinted upon the souls of the Korean peninsula's populace as a triumph.
"Artist Sim Ah-ryeon! Could I have your autograph, please?"
"Me too! I was genuinely moved by your works! It's hard to even pick a favorite piece!"
"Uh, uh heh heh. Sure…."
"Can I take a picture with you, Artist?"
"What? No. I really don't like that…."
"Eh."
"Eh."
Of course, amid the visitors, there was a subtle awareness, perhaps an instinctive sense, that this artist's mental state might not be entirely sound. But isn't that what makes a genius?
The human character was, after all, a matter of how you presented it. Even Sim Ah-ryeon's unique eccentricities were seen as charming points once she was given titles like "artist," "genius artist," or "eccentric genius of the anomalies."
Even if a person is perfect, the only ones who would appreciate them are people like Plato or Confucius. Unless one finds joy in being adored by elderly men, a human needs just the right amount of imperfection to serve as a proper breathing hole.
"Just as my great love for the Three Kingdoms serves me as an undertaker."
[Hey, Mr. Undertaker. If you have time to blabber, hurry and move the stuff.]
"Yes, Ma'am."
[Alright.]
Chastised by Ha-yul, I glumly directed the dismantling of the gallery's temporary structure.
With the exhibition over, it was only natural to vacate the Tower of Babel Square. Homeless people frequented this square, and various food stalls were abundant, so it was best not to monopolize it for too long.
"Ah."
At that moment, Sim Ah-ryeon came dashing from the corner of the exhibition hall.
"Guild Leader! Please don't clear it out just yet!"
"Huh? Why? The exhibition ended today."
"Well…."
Sim Ah-ryeon fiddled with her index fingers.
"It's, it's a secret!"
"A secret?"
"Yes, yes. There's something I want to show you, Guild Leader. Could you leave it as is for about a week without dismantling?"
"Hmm."
I was slightly taken aback.
"It feels like Noh Do-hwa, the management leader, will soon urge us to vacate the space."
"The gallery doesn't need to be as large! As long as it's enough for just the Guild Leader and me to walk around, that's plenty."
"Hmm."
If that's all.
"Hold on. Let's see. So you're saying it's okay to reduce it to roughly 1/5 of the size instead of using the entire square as it is now?"
"Yes!"
"Understood. I'll see what I can do."
"Ehehe. Thank you. As expected, the Guild Leader is the best…."
Because of Sim Ah-ryeon's strange request, the dismantling work was put on hold. The Marionette Labor Corps led by Ha-yul quickly returned.
"Absolutely don't. Until I say it's okay, no one should enter the gallery!"
"Nobody?"
"Nobody! It's a complete secret. Super-duper secret... If anyone sneaks in without my permission, even if it's the Guild Leader, I won't forgive them…."
Even if it were anyone else, Sim Ah-ryeon's threat was intimidating enough that I quickly withdrew.
For those curious about the reasons for my fear, take a brief look back at the previous episodes and refer to the posts on SGNet by [The Funeral Manager] and [Saint of the North].
"Does the Saint have any idea?"
[No.]
Even though I communicated via telepathy with the real Saint, it brought no results.
[Ah-ryeon adamantly asked me not to peek, insisting very strongly.]
"She's locked herself inside the gallery for four days straight since the dismantling halted... I'm concerned."
After the dismantling was postponed, Sim Ah-ryeon had wrapped the entire exhibition space in white tents and started working on something inside it.
She ceased any contact or communication with others.
Twice a day, whenever I left meals at the gallery entrance, a hand would emerge lightning-fast to snatch away the tray unnoticed.
The brief glimpses of Sim Ah-ryeon's bare arm showed it was covered in paint.
"It seems she is clearly working on something inside the exhibition space."
It was peculiar.
"But she already completed the anomalies that Sim Ah-ryeon would have painted. The exhibition concluded well. What's left to paint now?"
[Maybe she's painting something she wants to show solely to you, Undertaker.]
The Saint spoke in a gentle tone.
[Ah-ryeon clearly knows how much you care for her.]
[Perhaps she's preparing a gift of gratitude. That's my guess.]
"My goodness."
What delightful behavior this is.
'Ah, our Ah-ryeon is becoming more and more human! This Guild Leader feels so proud, I could burst into tears!'
Actual tears were flowing down my face.
[...You really are so devoted to Ah-ryeon, aren't you, Undertaker?]
"Well, witnessing evolution, from primate to human, in real-time is nothing short of awe-inspiring for a knowledgeable person."
[Excuse me?]
"Pardon?"
The promised week passed.
That day, I was sipping a café au lait while gently combing Ha-yul's hair from the morning.
Though I felt a hint of loneliness due to the absence of the green-haired coffee thief who habitually appeared ninja-like to snatch her share of caffeine.
Ka-dok!
An alert popped up on my smartphone.
-Northern Saint: Barista.
A message had arrived from Sim Ah-ryeon.
Utilizing Seo Gyu's SGNet capabilities, it came through the internet chat room set up exclusively for the Regression Alliance members, as a personal private message to the "Operator Only Chat Room."
I efficiently switched on the 1-on-1 private chat function to reply.
-ZERO_SUGAR: Wut?
-Northern Saint: Preparations have concluded. We request the Barista to come alone to the appointed location at 11 PM tonight.
-ZERO_SUGAR: Okay.
Finally, the preparations were complete.
'This all feels strangely exhilarating.'
The notion of receiving a proper gift from the green-haired coffee thief for the first time blended anticipation and affection into a cocktail of endearing sentiments.
Ka-dok!
-Northern Saint: Additionally, please note that a strict dress code is in effect at the appointed location. We kindly ask the Barista to refrain from using the seven-colored perfume you usually enjoy.
-Northern Saint: I look forward to seeing you tonight.
I paused momentarily upon reading the follow-up message.
I couldn't understand what a dress code had to do with perfume. Yet more than that, an intangible sense of unease seeped through the otherwise innocuous arrangement of words.
"......."
Night came, and I went to the exhibition.
These days, 11 PM felt different from the 11 PM of days gone by. Where once modern civilization demanded insomnia with its brilliance, now the entire city of Busan, save for the casino area, was engulfed in a serene silence.
"Ah."
Just a single light flickered brightly in the area: Sim Ah-ryeon's gallery. It resembled nothing more than a motley lamp to catch night-flying insects or a light used to lure fish on the ocean at night.
"Um, welcome... Guild Leader!"
Sim Ah-ryeon was there.
She was waiting to greet me at the entrance of the exhibition hall.
Despite having mentioned a dress code in the chatroom, the renowned artist's attire was in utter disarray. Paint splattered her from head to toe, making a complete mess.
She had barely managed to hide it under a doctor's coat, which was itself stained here and there with paint.
However.
"Ah-ryeon. That in your pocket."
"Ack?!"
Sim Ah-ryeon hastily shoved the protruding veil back into the pocket of her doctor's coat.
"Th-this is a secret! A secret!"
"It's been nothing but secrets all week, yet another one?"
"Yes! It was really tight, time-wise. I even had dreams of my graduation exhibition deadline—it was that stressful. I don't usually have those dreams anymore, but in the past, if I was even a bit unwell, I'd always have nightmares about graduation exhibitions…."
Sim Ah-ryeon suddenly approached and sniffed at me. There was no context, but she often acted this way.
For her, the ‘words’ and ‘language’ spoken weren't of great significance.
"Oh. You didn't put any on… the smell."
"I didn't realize you disliked that perfume. You never showed any sign."
"Oh? I don't dislike it. It's just that today, having that scent on you could be problematic…."
"Why?"
"Uh? Well, that scent is evidence that you're always thinking of Yu Ji-won, Guild Leader."
She giggled, shyly.
"So, during the exhibition. For immersion, it’s distracting. It's obstructive. So, I removed it."
"......."
Question:
Does Sim Ah-ryeon dislike Yu Ji-won?
Answer:
No, she does not. It's impossible.
Counter-question:
Does Sim Ah-ryeon dislike anyone specifically?
Response:
No, she does not. It's impossible.
Interrogation:
Why is it impossible?
Response:
Disliking all cockroaches is one thing, but hating or despising one singular cockroach individually—why, that's very odd indeed.
"Come in, please. Guild Leader. I've spent the entire week working hard, all night! I honestly think they’re the works of my life."
Taking my hand, Sim Ah-ryeon led me inside.
Into the gallery. Into a labyrinth of sight, enclosed by temporary walls and tents.
"Ta-da, ta-ta-tadaaaaaaan…."
The exhibition, praised by everyone from the National Road Manager to influential guild leaders, awakened individuals, and regular citizens.
Every painting in that place had been obscured with black.
Chaotically. Messily. Like doodles.
The dramatic anomaly depictions were now utterly ruined.
Masterpieces, valued by some with riches, were gone, replaced by hideously distorted ‘overpaintings’ that coiled like serpents.
"......."
My mouth went dry.
"What... is this, Ah-ryeon?"
"Yes?"
It was a natural question.
The portraits housed in this gallery were treasures said to be the final gifts to humanity’s art world. To ruin them meticulously over a week...
But upon hearing my question, Sim Ah-ryeon made a face that seemed entirely unnatural.
It was similar to before.
When she was questioned about not wearing the perfume. She had reacted in exactly the same manner.
Strange.
Why does the Guild Leader ask questions whose answers he already knows—something like that.
"Asking me what… well. These are the forms of anomalies you see, right, Guild Leader?"
My heart pounded.
I barely managed to still my trembling tongue.
"So, this is how I see anomalies?"
"Yes."
"Why do you think that?"
"Well... because you have perfect recall, Guild Leader?"
Sim Ah-ryon tilted her head.
"Memory is simply association. It's not so different from perception. An apple you see now versus an apple you saw three years ago—it's all visual information to a person."
"......."
"But for most people, current perception is far stronger. Naturally. The immediate is vivid, while the remembered apple is vague and blurry… but! The Guild Leader is different!"
Sim Ah-ryeon continued her explanation.
As though she were a college student elucidating their artwork to a jury. Like a curator inviting the audience to the true meaning of the paintings.
With conviction.
"To you, both are the same... aren't they?"
She laughed softly.
"Well, then... here! Here, the Ten Legs!"
The Ten Legs painting had changed radically from what it was a week ago when it was on display during the ‘day exhibition.’
Now, in the ‘night exhibition,’ the Ten Legs depiction included the remains of Dang Seo-rin with her chest pierced and limbs severed.
"The Ten Legs caused something very precious to the Guild Leader to die. With perfect recall, the average person would just... treat the objects in front of them as what they are and... memories as memories. Even with overlapping, the clarity and fuzziness make a distinct separation…."
Bringing me before the massive painting.
Sim Ah-ryeon clasped her hands together, palms touching.
"The Guild Leader is different. You can't, you simply can't. Because your perfect recall ability literally 'overlaps' both the present and past Ten Legs as completely equal."
"......."
"It's incredible, I think. Picasso's Cubism attempted to depict human perception, overlapping not just the present but also the realms of recollection and anticipation. But, honestly, his was intellectual rather than sensory—a constructed imagination. It's sort of cheap when you consider it's a pursuit rooted in reason and not intuition. But you're not like that, Guild Leader! You're a complete human cubism!"
"......."
"When you look at a single Ten Legs, assuming it's the 1,000th loop, you're simultaneously seeing all 1,000 Ten Legs! Although, in most loops, their behaviors were probably similar, so even with 1,000, there'd be some amalgamation… Eh-heh. I'm envious, Guild Leader."
Sim Ah-ryeon twisted her body slightly.
"You're a living exhibition hall, Guild Leader. Unlike those who embellish their perceptions with mere words. Because, huh. You're genuine…."
"......."
"But it’s strange. Why do you always tell me to paint from 'other perspectives' instead of 'your own perspective'? Your view is much more—infinitely more interesting…."
My throat was parched.
My mouth had been a barren wasteland for a while now.
The saliva thickly clinging under my tongue felt less like moisture and more like a swamp, pulling my tongue down.
"How—"
"Because I thought about you, Guild Leader."
It was an immediate answer.
I didn't even need to finish asking how she knew.
Sim Ah-ryeon had already completed my words in her head.
"Every single day."
Skip. The ellipsis of dialogue was common in private conversations with Sim Ah-ryeon.
As mentioned, spoken words and language were never tremendously significant to her.
"I’m actually more astonished by you, Guild Leader. You can see them all, you must see them all, yet how can you act so perfectly…?"
"See all, you say?"
"Our appearances when we perished."
"......."
"You can still see them now, right?"
Sim Ah-ryeon stepped closer.
"Whether it's decapitations, limbs severed by anomalies, bloodstains—all those memories must be vividly visible before you."
"......."
"Y-you’re amazing, Guild Leader! Maybe your acting skill is the greatest talent you’ve got, even more than your intuition…."
Rustle.
From her doctor’s coat pocket, Sim Ah-ryeon pulled something out. It was the crumpled veil from earlier, part of a saint's habit.
"U-Um, so—Oh. There."
Sim Ah-ryeon spread out the veil and placed it over her head.
Step by step.
Walking down the gallery corridor, she knelt under the largest painting at the center.
Title of Work:
『World Tree Udumbara』.
In a painting that originally would have depicted dazzling petals dancing wildly, the brush strokes over it showed the ‘remains’ of Sim Ah-ryeon, with gnarled and twisted limbs like aged wood.
As if it were the epilogue of Sim Ah-ryeon, corrupted while holding back monster waves.
"......."
I could recognize it.
No. In this world, only I could fully immerse myself in this ‘night exhibition’ and its masterpieces’ true essence.
"Each time the Guild Leader combed my hair."
With her back to me, kneeling, Sim Ah-ryeon babbled aimlessly.
"I can feel it. So... many emotions. Sadness. Resentment. Regret. Gratitude. Exceptionally, overwhelmingly dense emotions…."
"......."
"And so I thought. Ah, by the way, I must have acted as the Northern Saint in the Final Defense War. The Eastern Empire probably intervened. So I would wear a saint’s habit… Watching my descent must be something I shouldn't show to the believers. Oh, wearing a veil covering my face entirely makes sense. So."
Sim Ah-ryon’s shoulders trembled slightly, kneeling as she turned.
"Hehehe. I thought, maybe this would be my final form! What do you think? Correct?"
"......."
"G-Guild Leader. Now."
Sim Ah-ryeon smiled.
"Please, brush my hair."