Chapter 188
Chapter 188
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: 188. Crowd
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[Not picking up the phone.]
"Not answering?"
"No, she's not."
I reply to Jang Chaeyeon while staring at the art museum.
"We're closing!"
An employee shouts and waves his hand, sending people scurrying off with their tickets like they're being chased away.
They mutter regrets as they leave, looking more like folks bummed about missing out than people under mind control.
"Arin."
"Yeah."
"Doesn't it feel like hypnosis or brainwashing to you?"
Song Arin furrows her brow slightly at my question, then shakes her head.
"Nope. Not at all."
Not hypnosis, then.
...
But something else mattered more.
"Still no one coming out the exit."
I'd been watching the exit closely, and only a handful had emerged.
They all wore happy smiles, sure—but compared to the crowds going in, the numbers coming out were pathetically low.
"Shall we go in?"
"Hold on."
I raise a hand to stop Yoo Daon mid-stretch and check my smartphone again.
I'd called the branch chief over and over, but no answer.
Clutching the head office chief's blank business card, I silently begged her to listen, but nothing changed.
...
Time to decide.
I text the branch chief.
[Something anomalous at the art museum. Heading in first.]
[I called a bunch. Don't blame me.]
I'd done my part.
I pat my pocket to confirm: pistol there, manual there.
Rummaging in my shirt pocket, I find the butane canister too.
"What's that for? Torch the whole place?"
"If I have to."
Luckily, most artwork burns nicely.
"How're we getting in?"
Yoo Daon eyes me.
"Walking in."
"Huh?"
She blinks, confused.
...
My gaze shifts to Song Arin.
"...Right. This is exactly my kind of stage."
Song Arin sighs deeply and steps forward.
The art museum looms dark ahead, flashlight beams sweeping as guards patrol, reminding us they're on alert.
Song Arin strides up boldly.
A guard spots her and hurriedly raises a hand to block her.
"Hold it! The exhibition's over! Come back tomorrow!"
A man yells as he approaches.
I quickly scan above his head.
[Name: Kim Haru]
[Age: 25]
[Talent: None]
[Abilities: None]
[Background: He wonders if night security isn't supposed to mean fewer people. Why are they sneaking into the museum?]
[Weakness: Ordinary human. Strike a vital spot and he dies.]
Just a regular guy.
"Didn't you hear m—"
Song Arin looks at him, and his body freezes solid.
He stares at her like his soul's fled, then starts stammering.
"Wh-wh-what... what do you want..."
What kind of brainwashing did she hit him with?
"We're going in."
"Y-yeah... okay..."
He nods blankly, and Song Arin marches right through the entrance.
"What're you waiting for? Hurry up."
She glances back at us.
"...Coming."
What the hell did she do?
"You're unstoppable against people, Arin. Kinda sucks they're actual people, though."
"Daon."
"Yeah?"
"Quiet, please."
We enter the art museum.
Dark marble floors gleam stylishly, black drapes hanging along the sides.
I'd heard it was the country's biggest—damn, they built it right.
"...Hot."
The moment we step inside, an unpleasant warmth hits us.
Not scorching, more like lukewarm. Like...
"Subway at rush hour."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
These three probably never rode a packed commuter train in midsummer.
That gross, sticky feeling from sardined crowds.
I fiddle with the manual in my pocket, but nothing yet.
We press on, and in the dim center hangs a massive banner.
[Unknown Artist: A Bold Answer to What Is Art?]
Bold answer, huh.
"Hot."
Jang Chaeyeon mutters, unbuttoning her shirt,
and Yoo Daon rushes over, slapping a hand to cover the gap.
"...What're you doing?"
Jang Chaeyeon blinks at her,
and Yoo Daon silently pulls her hand away.
"N-no, nothing."
Their eyes meet, and Yoo Daon slips her hand back.
"Not hot for anyone else?"
"Hot."
"I'm... not really."
Song Arin sighs, shedding her coat, while Yoo Daon tilts her head at my question.
...
I call the team leader again inside the museum.
[Can't take the call right now...]
Still no answer.
Weird.
Wouldn't the team leader sense the danger?
Not like he went bald overnight. He's thinning a bit, sure, but not fully there yet. No way he'd miss this.
Maybe it's bigger than we thought.
And art...
A mannequin's torso flashes in my mind.
"Hope it's not that."
"Huh?"
"Nothing."
We walk slowly.
[Feel the master's works.]
I eye the sign at the entrance.
"Master, huh."
"...I'm getting worried."
"Me too."
Yoo Daon's art museum memories aren't happy ones, apparently.
"Daon. What happened when you met that... aesthete?"
"Aesthete... oh, right. The mannequin thing?"
"Yeah."
...
Yoo Daon closes her eyes, lost in thought.
"People went mad for art."
"Art?"
"Yeah, like..."
She frowns deeply, face twisting in genuine disgust.
"The world's center shifts."
...
"For example, suddenly art becomes the most important thing to you, and someone keeps forcing that idea on you."
"I see."
"That feeling... it was awful."
"Yeah, figures."
How violating is it when someone else rewires your head?
"They mess with what's most important to you."
Got it.
Wonder what she values most.
Too awkward to ask.
We walk on, another sign appears.
[Experience living vitality in art.]
Paintings emerge in the dark room.
...
I scan around, tense.
No telling what'll jump out.
"...Wow."
While I'm checking,
Yoo Daon gasps in awe, staring somewhere.
"Daon?"
"Look at that."
She tugs my sleeve, murmuring.
I look at the painting she's pointing to.
...
Crude.
Weird vibe.
Doesn't even look human-made.
But definitely crude.
"What's with it?"
"...Isn't it too beautiful?"
I go speechless at Yoo Daon's words.
Beautiful? That?
Not by my standards.
"Look. The incredible detail, even the grassy scent wafting off it."
...
I turn to Jang Chaeyeon and Song Arin.
"Beautiful."
Jang Chaeyeon nods, murmuring too,
"...Sigh."
while Song Arin sighs heavily.
"Arin."
"Yeah. I'm fine."
She meets my gaze.
"The problem is, it's not hypnosis."
...
"Those two really think it's 'beautiful.'"
I study the painting they see.
...
Crude mess.
No translucent window even.
What the—
...
I thought that for a second too.
The painting's changing before my eyes.
Watching the crude thing shift feels... odd.
"You see it too, Arin?"
"Clear as day."
She glances at it.
"But seriously, what is this?"
"...Can you project what you see onto them?"
...
Song Arin looks at Jang Chaeyeon at my words,
-grab!
"...Huh...?"
Song Arin suddenly grips the back of Jang Chaeyeon's head,
...
and Jang Chaeyeon's face hardens fast.
"...What're you doing."
"Shut up and look at the painting."
Jang Chaeyeon stares ahead at Song Arin's command,
...
and narrows her eyes.
"This what you see?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe you're seeing wrong."
"He's seeing the same as me."
"Then I'm the wrong one."
"Hey, you trust him over me?"
"Yep."
Song Arin stares at Jang Chaeyeon—who looks at her like duh—then glances at me, exasperated.
"Anyway, yeah."
"Daon. Let's go."
"Uh, okay..."
Yoo Daon keeps sneaking peeks at the painting.
Song Arin sighs, grabs her by the nape.
"Kim Jaeheon's gonna hate you if you don't hurry."
"I-I'm coming!"
Yoo Daon whips around, checking my face.
"J-Jaeheon... did I stare at the painting too long?"
"...No."
I nod reassuringly at her awkward smile and head forward.
We pass countless paintings,
...
and the gross heat worsens deeper in.
No one's here—why so stuffy?
Soon, we stop before a massive painting.
Crowds of people face forward.
Men in suits, women in dresses, kids in jeans.
All ages, all genders, staring ahead.
No.
...
Their gazes turn to us.
A translucent window pops up over the painting.
[Name: Crowd]
[Age: -]
[Talent: None]
[Abilities: None]
[Background: How the foolish revere the masses.]
[Weakness: Burn the painting. Of course, the people inside die too.]
...
Somewhere, a familiar laugh echoes.