Simone Cassani.
A man in his early thirties, an Italian-American immigrant whose only possession was a building his parents had operated, stared blankly ahead.
More precisely, he was looking at the chin of someone with a high nose bridge and soft lips.
"(…How much are you planning to offer?)"
This place was a street along the beach in Miami.
Though it wasn't as expensive as the high-priced houses in the West or Northeast, it was still a street with mansions bought by top stars, since it was a tourist area and by the beach.
Also, Florida has no state income tax or inheritance tax. That's why many traditional wealthy Americans pay high prices to buy mansions in Florida.
Because it was such a lucrative area, this place, located at the very edge of the wealthy district nearby, couldn't just be sold cheaply.
Cassani swallowed hard, waiting for the answer.
Then it happened.
The man's lips moved.
"(Aren't you the owner? You're the one who should name the price. Go ahead, say it.)"
The man spoke slowly and chuckled softly.
At the same time, the backlighting that had concealed his face was blocked by a cloud, revealing his face under the cloudy sky.
The shine disappeared from his hair, which had glowed red in the sunlight, leaving it jet black.
Cassani's pupils widened as he looked up at the man's face. Without the backlight, the man's face looked surprisingly youthful.
…Huh?
When hearing his voice and Italian accent, Cassani had imagined a very dignified older gentleman, but… he was a kid.
Now that he thought about it, the hands he had glimpsed seemed too smooth to be aged.
"(You want me to name a price.)"
Yet, the words and mannerisms that sounded like those of a grandfather felt completely natural. It was as if the clothes fit perfectly.
'Anyway, this is America, so how does such a young-looking guy speak Italian so well? Did he live in Italy and just came to America for a visit?'
Somehow, he didn't seem like a contemporary person; it was like seeing a ghost.
Whatever the case, meeting such an unusual person after a long time made Cassani clamp his mouth shut.
Normally, Cassani would have charged at the kid like a bull, angry at being teased by such a youngster, but somehow, he couldn't do that in front of this kid.
He was still immature and small, but somehow felt like a giant.
Even Cassani thought it was a strange feeling.
He smiled bitterly at his own thoughts.
This year marked the 52nd time.
Every week, someone would come to see the building, but they always left abruptly, refusing to accept one of Cassani's two conditions for the sale.
One was to maintain the building's exterior.
The other was to sell the building at a fair price.
"Maintain the building's exterior? Look. Do you know what Miami people say about this building? They call it a temple at the beach's edge. A temple. These white stone pillars look exactly like those of the Temple of Poseidon. And what is this, the Colosseum or the Round Table? Some kind of stone pillars surround the mansion. If the whole front yard is taken up like this, how would anyone actually live here? Asking someone to buy a building and maintain its exterior is just…"
"This was originally a surf shop! Who would buy it as a residence in the first place?!"
"Such a nasty temper. Fine, fine, friend, then I'll concede and find some eccentric person who likes the exterior of this house. But then you have to lower the price."
"I said I won't lower the price!"
"Do one or the other! Either fix the exterior or lower the price! This isn't a charity where I buy it just because you want it!"
But it wasn't easy.
While some might agree to one of the conditions, no one agreed to both.
Would this kid in front of him accept the conditions?
Cassani was about to open his mouth nervously.
Somewhere deep inside, for reasons he didn't understand, Cassani wished this kid would buy the building.
Perhaps because the person before him looked so young, Cassani naturally felt his tension ease. His face relaxed, and in a softer tone, he spoke.
"(Alright. I'll tell you the price. But there's a condition. This building…)"
"Artist!"
At that moment, a voice interrupted.
Though loud, Cassani couldn't make out what was being shouted. What was that?
He perked his ears to catch the voice coming from afar.
"Artist Kang! Where are you? Artist!"
It wasn't English or Italian. What language was that? Cassani stepped forward to listen more closely.
"Kang! Jinyumi, the curator?"
The kid turned his back and responded to the loud woman.
They seemed to know each other. More than that, the kid just said something the kid himself didn't understand—was that his mother tongue?
So he wasn't born and raised in Italy?
Then perhaps it was not his original accent but a result of growing up watching broadcasts?
While Cassani was puzzling over this,
"Artist!"
The woman approached quickly.
They really knew each other.
She ran like someone who had reunited with a family member, unable to touch the kid but looking him over and talking rapidly.
"Artist, where have you been? You don't come back to your lodging, you don't answer calls. I went to your studio early in the morning, but you weren't there… there's powder and fragments everywhere in the studio, blue and all… I really thought you had disappeared, I was so worried…"
She was pleading with tears in her eyes.
The kid — no, the man — awkwardly scratched his nose and replied. Judging by his tone, it seemed like he was trying to calm her down.
About 30 seconds passed while Cassani stood blankly, not understanding the conversation.
The woman's expression shifted from surprise to pale, then she looked at Cassani. Why was she looking at him?
Embarrassed, he tried to say something in English, but the man spoke again, and her gaze slowly turned away.
"…So you haven't bought any land or building yet?"
"Yes. But since I really want to paint here, no cutting in line allowed."
"Of course! We don't want to upset the artist."
Jinyumi shook her head emphatically, meaning there was no way they would do that, but at the same time, she quickly schemed in her mind.
'The artist already found a building he likes and wants to buy it first. If someone recommends somewhere else or buys this place first with a higher price… the artist will hate us but still buy it.'
Kang Seok looks like a diligent, kind, and harmless model student on the surface, but inside, he has an obsessive passion for sculpture and a dozen crafty snakes coiled around.
Only Jinyumi knew this very well.
So they couldn't let him buy the building. It would be better to buy some land nearby, enjoy frescoes, and open a small gallery café or souvenir shop that he could visit… inside the building is empty. Inside the building?!
'If Artist Kang paints frescoes, the only way to make money is by selling admission tickets to view them. Then we could open a souvenir shop inside, collect rent and commission fees…!'
This could work.
First, she had to discuss this with Director Jin Do-wook.
Jinyumi pictured Director Jin Do-wook's face and wracked her brains. Her passion for promotion and desire to grab the golden ladder fueled her mind to burn red-hot.
'If we just ask him to do it, it feels like we'll be in debt. Of course. We want to be included since the artist found a building he likes and intends to buy it. He'd probably agree a few times, but this way the Bloom Museum can't grow as a long-term business partner. What should I do… wait. Didn't the artist say he hasn't bought the land or building yet?'
Jinyumi suddenly raised her head as if she had an idea.
Her dull, tired eyes met Cassani's dark brown eyes in midair.
'That's the key.'
The artist definitely intends to buy the building and has the financial means to meet any reasonable offer, but… he doesn't know that.
And the artist hates losing contracts.
Though this isn't the West, and the transfer tax isn't as harsh as in Korea, there are different rules for non-resident foreigners buying property in the US, such as paying in full upfront.
What if our Bloom could help with that?
'The artist would be willing to let us run the souvenir shop in the building as a favor.'
Jinyumi, who had seen the colors of the powder the artist made, could easily imagine how this white building would be colored.
A distant, almost hypnotic blue.
Imagining the birth of a gallery for a single artwork, Jinyumi felt sweat gather on her palms.
If our souvenir shop was there… how likely is it that visitors wouldn't come in?
Jinyumi brushed her hair back and looked at Kang Seok.
"Curator?"
"Oh, artist, sorry, I was just thinking for a moment… You said you haven't bought the land yet, right?"
"Yes."
"Well… I think I should talk to the director about this, but Bloom might be able to help with contracts or something. You might be able to handle it alone, but when it comes to US tax issues and so on…"
Taxes.
Kang Seok nodded as if to say that made sense.
Thanks to his past experience, he knew whether the contract contained any harmful clauses or how to steer the contract in his favor... but even Kang-seok didn't know about the U.S. tax issues.
"So, if you don't have to make the purchase today, how about we reschedule and have a meeting with the homeowner at the Bloom Museum? If you handle the cost processing with us, the paperwork might be completed faster, too."
"...You really can do that?"
Why go that far?
Kang-seok nodded as if there was no harm in it, surprised.
For Jin Yumi and Bloom Museum, and for Kang-seok himself, it was a good deal.
And this... would also be a pretty good deal for Simone Cassani.
"Of course!"
"That sounds good. Then, I'll explain it to him—"
Just as Jin Yumi turned to explain to Cassani, Kang-seok stopped her and stepped forward.
"I'll explain it. After all, I'm the one buying the house..."
"Eh, yes?"
Jin Yumi blinked.
When she met Arthur, Kang-seok said he could only listen and had trouble speaking, and Director Jin Do-wook was interpreting for him. So Jin Yumi was surprised, wondering if Kang-seok had mastered English overnight.
But then fluent Italian came from Kang-seok's mouth.
"(Listen, since the money involved is quite large to talk about here, how about arranging another meeting?)"
"(Good. Then can you give me your contact info?)"
"(Are there any days you can't make it? Days that are hard to clear?)"
"(You're actually the most free person around here. Just call me anytime, and I'll come flying. Please just get in touch.)"
"(Thanks for the consideration, young man. But your way of speaking is pretty amusing.)"
"(Haha, you're the one with the funny tone! Did you learn it from watching Italian medieval movies?)"
"(Hmm?)"
Though Kang-seok didn't realize it, his speech was filled with outdated words he'd used for decades, and Cassani found it quite entertaining, like a funny impression.
Of course, Kang-seok's youthful face combined with the medieval noble accent was oddly fitting, and Cassani flinched a few times from nervousness... but mostly, it was funny by default.
"(No, now that I think about it, it's kinda cool. Not the usual tone you hear. You really speak Italian well.)"
Well, it's not about speaking well or not.
It was his mother tongue from a previous life.
Kang-seok gave an awkward nod and finished the greeting. Then he turned to go back to his studio.
"W-writer..."
At the spot Kang-seok looked back at was Jin Yumi, mouth agape and eyes wide in disbelief.
Ah.
Kang-seok let out a low sigh.
"I can speak Italian."
"Huh...!"
Jin Yumi looked at Kang-seok, surprised that he could speak Italian at a native level.
Excellent sculpting skills, painting skills, and now language skills too.
No wonder Kang-seok was preparing so quickly for the art fair.
'Writer Kang is already a prepared talent.'
A few months ago.
The image of Kang-seok suddenly asking how to renovate Michelangelo's tomb overlapped with the current Kang-seok.
'...No way.'
No way he learned Italian just because of that, right?
Jin Yumi looked at Kang-seok with an expression that said "The world is really unfair."
It was near noon on the Miami beach.
.
.
.
The contract progressed quickly once Director Jin Do-wook got involved.
Cassani demanded a price that exactly matched the market rate, and also requested that the exterior not be changed.
Since the place wasn't originally intended for residential use and Kang-seok liked the exterior, he happily agreed.
Of course, they added a clause to the contract that the interior could be freely altered, and that as long as the exterior remained unchanged, murals or whatever else could be painted.
...Well, the market price didn't really matter in the first place.
If there was only one canvas he wanted, bargaining the price was meaningless.
And why put a price on materials?
The real price is set after the painting is drawn on the canvas.
Kang-seok twitched the corner of his mouth.
The moment to create the artwork was approaching.
Time flew again.
During the days it took to finalize the contract, Kang-seok hammered minerals to extract pigments and separate impurities... and in the meantime, everything was prepared for Art Basel in Miami Beach.
And then, December 16.
The day of Art Basel in Miami Beach had arrived.
December in Miami was cool, clear, and bright.
Blue skies.
The pure orchid-colored sea.
Waves breaking into tiny ripples.
White sandy beaches.
At the beautiful tourist destination of Miami Beach, supercars began lining up to enter the Art Basel booth.
Marking its 20th anniversary, the largest-ever Art Basel Miami Fair was opening.
.
.
.
Meanwhile, inside the booth.
In the farthest corner of the seven gallery sessions.
Though Bloom Museum secured a wide booth space, its position paled compared to international galleries.
Still, only insiders were walking around, so no crowds yet.
Kang-seok, as the invited artist of Bloom Museum, rolled a lapis lazuli (blue stone) while looking around.
At his seat, over a hundred sunset-colored inks and 100 carefully handmade dip pens were laid out.
Because the colors and shapes had meaning, Kang-seok spread them all on the white table like a market stall and whistled while rolling the lapis lazuli.
In the quiet event hall.
Everyone around was secretly watching the table Kang-seok sat at.
Beyond the beauty of the hundred glass dip pens, the table shimmered with the colors of sunset.
'Beautiful.'
'Crazy...'
'When the event starts, can I go buy one too?'
Before the doors even opened.
People secretly aiming for Kang-seok's inks and dip pens were slowly gathering.
It was like the calm before the storm.