* * * *
A small kingdom in ancient Greece.
The third child of the king was born.
It was a girl again.
The princess, born as the youngest of three daughters, was given the name Psyche.
Like her name, which means "breath," Psyche grew more and more beautiful with every breath she took, as though her life itself deepened with each exhale. She grew so extraordinarily beautiful that, by the time she came of age, people began to call her the living goddess of beauty.
Gradually, people began to worship Psyche, who existed beside them in the real world, rather than Aphrodite, the invisible goddess of beauty.
They offered her sacrifices, praised her beauty, revered and admired her. What made mere mortals worship a human like a god was her appearance.
She.
Psyche's beauty was just that overwhelming.
* * * *
Through the glass dome above, a sky split into crimson and blue was visible. It was a sunset disguised as dawn.
Afternoon, with red light pouring in from the sky.
Ryu Suheon, a level-4 administrator in the Department of Culture and Arts at the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism, stood blankly on the stage steps of an abandoned building, holding a candlestick whose flames had all gone out.
No, to say he was entranced would be more accurate.
How could one not feel their heart flutter upon seeing a woman like that?
Ryu Suheon slightly raised his gaze. He wanted to see the woman reflected in his pupils a bit more clearly.
Like an angel descending from the heavens, a wingless human woman stood before him with her arms open wide, smiling radiantly.
Suheon smiled foolishly, unaware that the arm holding the candlestick was going numb.
A Grecian-style dress that naturally revealed the curves of the body and elevated the waistline to beautifully emphasize the proportions—a clear representation of a goddess from Greek or Roman mythology.
A hairstyle reminiscent of waves full of blooming buds.
A round and smooth forehead like a half-moon.
Kind, triangle-shaped brows that narrowed as if to say she understood everything.
Eyes with soft, butterfly-winged corners.
Round, gentle eyes that looked at him as though beholding the most beloved thing in the world.
A sharp, yet not pointy, soft nose.
Fair cheeks that somehow held a peach-like blush.
Upturned lips as though poking at her cheekbones.
Slightly parted lips, as if to tempt.
Everything about her was beautiful and lovely.
Glamorous yet cute, pure yet enchanting, elegant yet seductive.
But what is this?
Why is this happening?
Just as Ryu Suheon was lost in wonder, a question surfaced.
Her petal-like upturned lips were beautiful—but staring at them started to snap him back to his senses. It was like looking at the lips of a woman whom Aphrodite had cursed with bitterness so that no man could love her.
Clarity returned to Ryu Suheon's previously clouded mind.
And then, between her and him—between her feathers, where she seemed to be floating like a butterfly protected by some winged being—he saw something silver connecting them.
A wire...?
Come to think of it... he had definitely felt the cold sensation of a wire when lifting the candlestick.
As soon as he recognized that, he realized something crucial: humans can't simply float upside down against gravity beneath a glass dome as though it were the ground.
Her face was pointed toward the floor, and her legs toward the ceiling... It was like a siren swimming through the deep sea.
At the same moment, a realization passed through Suheon's mind—the glass dome was on the second floor.
She's not human.
Though she had appeared fully human and he'd never doubted it, only now did Ryu Suheon realize she wasn't human at all.
She was a sculpture.
A sculpture.
He almost dropped the candlestick in surprise.
But for some reason—perhaps a mechanism—despite the candlestick slipping slightly, the wires didn't budge, as though they were made of rubber that stretched and held firm.
In other words, there was no danger of the ceiling suddenly closing up again.
Now that I look... it's really huge.
This was the first floor. Even though he'd gone up the stairs and gotten closer, for something so far away to appear exactly the same size as an average woman—he had clearly been tricked. The actual sculpture must have been massive.
It must've been far larger than a human.
Unlike typical ceiling-hung sculptures seen in cafes or galleries with one or two wires, this must have required countless supports.
Clearly, the creators had gone to great lengths to block all lines of sight that could reveal the wires and break the illusion before one could fully perceive it.
Was this intentional... or instinctual?
Ryu Suheon clicked his tongue, impressed either way.
Even more astonishing was the fact that, despite knowing the truth, his heart still fluttered. As if he had been struck by one of Eros's golden arrows that made one fall in love.
This is... incredible!
Ryu Suheon had traveled far and wide, both domestically and abroad, viewing countless works of art, but he had never felt this way before.
This was a winning piece.
It had to be.
Insane.
Insane.
Insane!
He thought he might even be willing to offer one of his top-tier beans from his prized Luwak coffee collection to Kang Seok, the artist who created this entire spectacle.
Then, a memory surfaced.
The contract.
It stipulated that 40% of the ticket revenue generated from entry into this building would be paid separately to Kang Seok.
40%. That's right. We agreed to pay 40% to the artist Kang Seok. What did I say to him back then, when I was explaining the deal?
Ryu Suheon dug through his memory.
And one line surfaced from the depths of his recollection.
– "You were lucky."
Yes.
He had said Kang Seok was lucky.
Now, Ryu Suheon realized who was truly lucky.
It wasn't Kang Seok.
It was him, and the Ministry of Culture, Sports and Tourism.
This wasn't even a temporary exhibition. And technically, the ownership was shared between the ministry (as the building owner) and the artist, Kang Seok—so there was no need to return it anywhere.
Not a temporary setup.
Even factoring in labor costs and everything else, they only had to pay 40%, and the rest was essentially theirs just for providing the building. It was an absurdly good deal—so good it felt almost unethical.
Even while running these calculations through his head, Ryu Suheon's arm refused to lower. His eyes stayed fixed on the woman in the sky.
If he returned the candlestick to its holder, the ceiling might close and he'd never see her again. Even though his arm ached, he couldn't bring himself to let go.
Even while weighing all these figures, the feeling remained unchanged.
Then it happened.
"The viewing is now over."
"What?"
Startled, Suheon blurted out a casual reply. His head turned instinctively toward the voice.
"Oh—Mr. Kang."
There stood Kang Seok.
Wasn't he taller before...?
Before Ryu Suheon could even raise his head and ask the question that abruptly came to mind, Kang Seok gestured as if to say no. He was pointing at the candlestick in Ryu Suheon's hand.
"Your arm must be numb by now. If you keep holding it, you might drop the candlestick. Please set it down now."
"You can always come back and see it again, right?"
Despite Kang Seok's casual tone, Ryu Suheon hesitated for quite a while. The reason was simple. The moment he lowered the candlestick, the face of the woman in the ceiling would disappear.
And so, the standoff continued.
There were times when one could persist in such a standoff, but making an enemy out of the currently most sought-after artist, Kang Seok, would be of no benefit.
In the end, the one who raised the white flag was Ryu Suheon.
He slowly lowered the candlestick.
The moment he placed it back in its original spot, the artwork began to be hidden behind a temporary wall densely engraved with feathers.
The sight of the thousands of butterflies that had poured from the ceiling flying back upward with the feathers—as if time was rewinding—and the abandoned building falling back into darkness, was itself a beautiful scene. But Ryu Suheon simply felt a pang of sorrow.
He made a decision.
I'll come again.
If he could see this sight one more time in exchange for skipping two out of four jumbo shots of Americano, he wouldn't regret it.
"I'll see you again…!"
With a lingering gaze, Ryu Suheon looked at the partition wall. Soon after, the wires fully retracted, allowing the partition to completely cover the glass dome above.
What returned was darkness.
The sunlight that had poured through the glass dome vanished the moment it was obscured by the wall. The flame on the candlestick went out, and the abandoned building returned to being a ruin.
As Ryu Suheon looked around, feeling a sudden emptiness—
Clunk, clunk, clunk.
The building was lit up again by Cho Dongbeom flipping the switches.
Beside him stood Kang Seok.
Without a word of preamble, Ryu Suheon said the one thing he most wanted to say.
"It's the best."
It was the greatest piece of art he had ever seen.
A woman so captivating that even caffeine-soaked, emotion-numbed zombie Ryu Suheon—whose heart rarely reacted anymore—blushed from looking at her. How could this not be the best?
Kang Seok smiled. Even without many words, he could feel everything Ryu Suheon was feeling.
"Thank you."
"No, not at all. I just spoke honestly. By the way, Mr. Kang Seok, could I ask you something? It's about the piece…"
"Yes, go ahead."
At Kang Seok's response, Ryu Suheon closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the emotion as if missing a distant lover obscured behind that partition wall. Then he opened them and asked carefully,
"Um… Mr. Kang Seok."
"Yes?"
"What is the name of that piece…?"
"The name?"
Kang Seok seemed to think for three seconds, then replied as if it were obvious.
"<Ψυχ?>"
"Ψυχ??"
"Yes. It's called <Ψυχ?>."
What came from his mouth was Greek. Ψυχ?, pronounced Psyche in English.
Psyche.
Psyche.
Psyche.
Even the name sounded sweet.
Upon hearing it, Ryu Suheon suddenly understood the phrases written on the blueprints.
[With a single gesture from your appearing hand,][the once-dark world][is dyed in the wings of thousands of butterflies.][A woman with bitter lips and a sweet forehead.][My breath (Ψυχ?),][smile more beautifully.][My goddess, my lady, my breath (Ψυχ?).]
In Greek mythology, Psyche (Ψυχ?) is the wife of the god of love, Eros—the goddess of soul and spirit.
That was the name of the veiled piece.
They called it participatory art, didn't they?
This was truly participatory art.
If the viewer does not move, the artwork remains hidden in the darkness. Only when the audience participates is it completed—true participatory art.
Ryu Suheon's eyes lit up like someone who had just realized something profound.
It came to him.
He saw the path—how to promote this in a way that would make it go viral, a massive success.
"…Thank you for telling me. Then, Mr. Kang Seok—ah, sorry, could I excuse myself just for a moment? Something came to mind, and I need to organize it quickly. I'll come back later."
"Sure. I called you on short notice, anyway."
Kang Seok nodded, as if telling him to go handle his work.
Cho Dongbeom also gave him a broad smile, as if telling him to go pour his heart and soul into promoting his mentor's work.
Grateful for their kind smiles, Ryu Suheon downed his coffee like chugging a beer and dashed out.
Even before the popularity of Gwanghwa Yeorae Buddha at Bongeunsa Temple had died down, a new wave named Psyche (Ψυχ?) was ready to take the stage.
Two days later, on October 24th
Kang Seok returned to Bloom Museum for the first time in a while.
He had come at the arrangement of Jin Dowook, the museum director, to meet the youngest member of the Sangkang Group's owning family—Park Sunwoo.
Unlike last time, he was immediately escorted directly to the director's office.
As he opened the door, he saw someone sitting on the middle sofa, with Director Jin Dowook on the left, and a person wearing long glasses cords seated on the right.
Since that person was on the right, it was unlikely they were Park Sunwoo.
Naturally, Kang Seok's eyes turned toward the person sitting squarely in the center.
There sat a young man with a kind but mischievous smile.
That must be him.
That must be Park Sunwoo, the youngest member of the Sangkang Group family.
Just as Kang Seok realized this, Park Sunwoo stood up.
"Hello. I'm Park Sunwoo."
With a bold and cheerful grin, Park Sunwoo walked over to Kang Seok and extended his hand for a handshake. Without hesitation, Kang Seok accepted and replied,
"I'm Kang Seok."
Park Sunwoo nodded.
It was a nod that said, I know you very well.
As Kang Seok waited for him to release his hand, Park Sunwoo, still holding it, asked,
"Do you happen to like buildings?"
"...Excuse me?"