The Gallery, the Account, and the First Flood of Messages
I looked at the newly purchased computer sitting on the desk.
A top-of-the-line desktop with every spec pushed to the limit.
I had also set up dual monitors, one 32-inch and one 27-inch.
The big screens spread out in front of me, making everything easy to see.
I still remembered the last time, during the Eva auction, when the combination of an old computer and slow internet had nearly cost me the bidding window.
I had barely won it in the end, but I had no desire to feel that kind of fear again.
Just remembering how I had almost lost a porcelain piece worth at least 30 billion won by a matter of seconds still made my palms sweat.
Now that the computer had been replaced, I called the telecom company and had them check the internet again.
A technician came by, inspected everything, and nodded before saying, “The line itself is fine, but the signal strength is a little weak. I contacted the provider, reset the signal, and replaced the amplifier. You shouldn’t have any more dropouts now.”
I had mostly been using the internet for YouTube and OTT platforms rather than gaming, so I hadn’t noticed much of a problem.
Even then, more often than not I would come home late from work and fall asleep before I had time to watch anything.
After the technician left, I measured the speed again and could feel the difference immediately.
All this time, I’d been drinking Master Wonhyo’s skull water.
Paying the same money for low-quality service.
Was it a relief that I’d caught on now, at least?
When I powered up the computer, the boot sound came on and the high-resolution panels lit up vividly.
I settled in for real and brought up domestic and overseas auction sites on the monitors.
I kept checking them over and over to see whether any new pieces had appeared.
The clicking of the mouse echoed through the tiny studio apartment.
I searched the sites for a long while, but I couldn’t find a single relic that glowed with that light.
Maybe, after using it once, there was some kind of cooldown?
Just in case, I made a note of the time.
My smartphone rang.
It was Representative Shin A-young.
I cleared my throat and answered.
“Yes, Representative.”
“Si-woo. Could you come to the gallery?”
“Of course. Is this about the Shin Yunbok piece?”
It wasn’t hard to guess why Shin A-young was calling.
The Cultural Heritage Appraisal Committee had released its results, and the works now had official credibility behind them.
From here on, Shin A-young’s role was clear.
“Yes. We’re going to begin a full public reveal now, but I thought it would be better to discuss it while looking at your face, Si-woo. Are you free now?”
“I am. I’ll head over right away.”
* * *
Cheongdam Eterna Gallery.
I had been startled by the grandeur of the building the first time I saw it, but by now I was used to it.
I drove in.
Because the car was registered with the gallery, the barrier lifted and I was able to enter easily.
Even so, I still had to go through several layers of security and verify my identity.
Inside the gallery, I exchanged greetings with familiar staff before heading into Shin A-young’s office.
“Si-woo, welcome. Please wait a moment. I’ll grind some of the new beans I brought and make you coffee myself.”
I was about to politely decline, but Shin A-young had already stood up, as if to say that refusal itself was not up for debate.
With practiced ease, she began grinding the beans in the grinder.
After that, she went through a few more steps and finished the pour-over coffee.
A rich, bright aroma filled the office in an instant.
“These are Panama Geisha beans. I’m not sure whether they’ll suit your taste.”
I’d never even heard of them before.
But if Shin A-young went out of her way to keep and drink them herself, they definitely weren’t cheap.
The hand-drip coffee was poured into a clear glass cup and set on the table.
“Go ahead and try it.”
Shin A-young looked at me with expectant eyes.
The stare put a little pressure on me, but I took a careful sip.
The bright acidity and sweet fragrance were on an entirely different level from the cheap coffee I usually drank, lingering across my tongue.
“What do you think?”
“The acidity is distinctive. It’s exactly my taste. I was going to refuse at first, but if I’d never tried this, I’d have regretted it.”
“Right?”
Shin A-young nodded as if satisfied, then brought up the main topic.
“I called you in today because the conservation treatment and precise authentication of the two previously unreleased Shin Yunbok works have been completed perfectly. Along with verification from the Cultural Heritage Appraisal Committee, academic experts have now all officially recognized them as authentic.”
Shin A-young turned on the tablet on the table and showed me a few photos.
“You said that when you first saw the paintings, you became certain from the brushwork and composition, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Shin Yunbok’s distinctive delicate brushwork and arrangement of figures were clearly different from those of other painters. In particular, the way he rendered folds in clothing and used empty space was exceptional.”
At my words, Shin A-young’s eyes shone.
“The other experts said the same thing. Within a few days, that fact will be made public in the press. And if it isn’t too burdensome, I’d like you to do an interview.”
“All right.”
Since I was part of Eterna Gallery, I felt responsible for it.
I had been given an annual salary of 200 million won, various allowances, and even a car worth more than 100 million won. It was only right that I earned my keep.
“Then this time as well, I’ll do the interview with the reporter from Joa Ilbo that I know, just like last time.”
“Ah, you mean Reporter Han Ji-yeon from last time? I saw the exclusive interview she did.”
I found it odd that Shin A-young remembered Han Ji-yeon’s name.
She must have a good memory.
“Yes. We’ve only met a few times, but from what I’ve seen so far, she seems trustworthy enough.”
“Hmm... is that so? Oh, right. By any chance, do you have a Byeolstagram account?”
Her odd question made me tilt my head.
“No. I don’t.”
“Then why not make one now that you’ve become famous?”
I didn’t really have much to do with social media.
The biggest reason was that I didn’t have anything in my daily life worth posting about.
Another reason was that I had no hobby of looking into other people’s daily lives.
But Shin A-young’s next words changed my mind.
“Yes. When your name is spreading like this, if you promote yourself and keep in touch with people, some of them might DM you first and send over the relics they have, saying they’re valuable items. With your eye for judging artifacts just from photos, I think that would be a huge help.”
It felt like I’d been hit hard in the back of the head with a hammer.
Until now, I’d been the one searching for relics first.
I hadn’t even considered the possibility that the other side might show me relics through DMs.
“Ah, and of course, don’t forget to post all kinds of promotional material as a consultant for the gallery.”
Shin A-young added that lightly, almost teasingly.
I installed Byeolstagram.
But what username should I use?
It felt like the kind of situation where, when creating a game character, I’d think more seriously about the character’s class than about my own future.
Forget it.
Fine, let’s keep it simple.
I chose the first thing that came to mind as my ID.
@siu_collector
It was an ID that clearly expressed who I was.
People around me called me an appraiser, but I’d always thought of myself as more of someone who checked values through the status window and collected things.
I changed my profile picture to the one Reporter Han Ji-yeon had taken during the last interview.
It had been retouched and looked better than the real thing, which made me feel a little guilty, but wasn’t that what profile pictures were for anyway?
“That photo turned out well, didn’t it?”
“Yes. Reporter Han Ji-yeon took it during the last interview.”
“I see. Then I’ll follow you first.”
Shin A-young searched for my ID on her smartphone.
“Done. I’ll also put up a post introducing you on my account now. On both Eterna’s official account and my personal one.”
“Understood.”
As soon as Shin A-young finished speaking, the notification window began to ring nonstop.
The words “follow notification” kept flooding the screen.
What in the world...?
I stared at the screen blankly, too surprised to do anything else.
“Si-woo, you should make your first post too. An account with at least one thing on it feels more trustworthy than one with nothing.”
I needed a first impression that fit the username siu_collector.
I turned my camera toward the coffee cup of Panama Geisha I had just drunk, with a glimpse of the gallery interior visible beyond it.
Then I wrote a short caption.
Could I really post this?
My fingers curled in on themselves just writing it.
I endured it and hit the post button.
Surprisingly, Shin A-young’s reaction was not bad.
“Not bad. You seem to have a real talent for social media.”
“......Really?”
“Yes. It has a certain sense of sincerity to it.”
I thought about deleting it right after uploading it.
But before long, likes began piling up and comments started appearing.
* * *
Han Ji-yeon was writing an article in her office.
A messenger notification popped up on her laptop.
She had only just been thinking she would check it later when she glanced at the sender and jolted upright.
It was Kim Si-woo.
The moment she opened the message, she stopped writing her article and shut the laptop.
Han Ji-yeon shot to her feet.
“Deputy Chief!”
At that booming shout, everyone’s attention snapped toward her.
The deputy chief, who had been dozing off, jerked awake and looked at Han Ji-yeon.
“I’m going out to interview Kim Si-woo!”
“What? Don’t tell me it’s another exclusive?”
Wiping the saliva from the corner of his mouth, the deputy chief asked in a hurry.
“I’ll tell you when I get back!”
Han Ji-yeon hurriedly grabbed her bag.
“Oh, Deputy Chief. I’m taking the company card with me!”
“Fine! Just get the scoop. I don’t care if it’s expensive hanwoo or omakase. No, make it as expensive as possible and treat him well!!”
“Yes! I’m off!”
While her fellow reporters let out sighs full of envy, Han Ji-yeon flew out of the culture department like the wind.
“Seriously, don’t we have anyone who can land us a scoop? I want to grab a lifeline like Kim Si-woo too.”
“Hey, Reporter Kim. Finish the article you were working on first.”
* * *
The meeting place this time was not one of the cafés near Hongdae where we’d done interviews before, but a high-end omakase restaurant right in the center of Gangnam.
With her deputy chief telling her not to worry and to just use the company card, Han Ji-yeon had made the reservation in high spirits.
“Si-woo! Over here!”
Han Ji-yeon greeted me with her usual lively energy.
“I saw the article about you becoming a board member last time.”
“Yes. It ended up that way somehow.”
“Congratulations.”
After a brief exchange, we got down to business.
“This time, two works by Shin Yunbok from Hye-won are going to be unveiled soon.”
At that, Han Ji-yeon froze in shock.
“What? Hye-won? You mean Shin Yunbok, the painter from Wind Flower Garden? And two previously unreleased works at that?”
“Yes. The Cultural Heritage Appraisal Committee has already completed its official authentication, and cross-checks with academic authorities were also finished during the conservation process.”
“My God... this is a real scoop!”
Han Ji-yeon couldn’t close her mouth from the shock.
She had been wondering what kind of news I might bring her this time.
And it turned out to be two works by Shin Yunbok of Hye-won.
Every time she met me, news beyond imagination seemed to break loose.
This one’s a front-page lock. This is huge!
Han Ji-yeon took a deep breath and steadied herself.
The interview went smoothly.
I briefly explained how the pieces had been discovered and what process had led to them.
In doing so, I said nothing that could expose Jun-hyeok’s identity, and I also left out how much money I had received.
I focused instead on the works’ artistic value and the key points of the appraisal.
By the time the interview ended, Han Ji-yeon still hadn’t even finished the sushi she loved.
She had been so absorbed in the story that she’d lost track of eating.
“Then I’ll coordinate directly with Eterna Gallery and decide when the interview goes up.”
“Sounds good.”
“Oh, right, Si-woo. You said you made a Byeolstagram account earlier, didn’t you? Would it be all right if I added it at the end of the article too?”
I was about to refuse.
But when I thought about it, it wasn’t a bad idea.
If people sent in antiques they were keeping at home through DMs, that would be a welcome development.
“Yes. I’d appreciate that.”
“Really, thank you. Si-woo. I’ll write you another good article this time too!”
“Yes. I’ll be counting on you.”