A Gift of Divine Mastery

What Matsuoka had sent was his own calligraphy, mounted in a rather expensive-looking frame. The first line read All-Around Workshop, brushed in classical script, and beneath it, the words Divine Mastery.

"This is incredible..."

The pieces he had written at the workshop last time had looked impressive enough. Seeing this, I finally understood why he had called those mere practice sketches. The difference in caliber was unmistakable. Every character seemed ready to leap from the paper and move of its own accord, radiating a vitality so intense it was almost frightening. I was beginning to understand why Japanese politicians and business tycoons lined up for a chance to receive Master Matsuoka's work.

This is a little much...

If he had sent some ordinary souvenir, I could have accepted it without a second ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠thought. A gift of this magnitude was a considerable burden. Even so, I could hardly send it back. The words All-Around Workshop written on that paper had been meant for me. In anyone else's hands, they would lose their meaning.

I'll have to make him another brush and send it along.

"That aside, where am I supposed to hang this...?"

I was still turning the question over when the door opened and someone walked in.

"Master Kang! It's been too long!"

A familiar face.

"Major General Hwang! No—you were promoted, weren't you. I should be calling you Lieutenant General now. Lieutenant General Hwang. You're earlier than I expected."

The man who had stepped into the workshop was none other than Hwang Dae-gyun, now a lieutenant general—the same man who, in the earliest days of the All-Around Workshop, had commissioned a chair from me.

"Hahaha. I had nothing on the schedule this morning, so I came ahead of our appointment. If you're busy, I can come back later."

"Not at all. Let me put on some coffee first. Please, feel free to look around the workshop."

I tore open a packet of Maxim mix coffee into each paper cup and poured water from the kettle, stopping short of halfway. That was how you made a proper cup of mix ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠coffee. I handed the finished cup to Lieutenant General Hwang and sat down.

"Please, have some."

"Thank you."

He took a sip and smiled.

"That's good. You can drink this Maxim for decades and never get tired of it."

"Haha. Isn't that right? Something you never tire of even after decades—that's what I'd call a true masterpiece."

I took another swallow and asked him,

"You said you came to commission another chair today?"

Lieutenant General Hwang set his cup down.

"Yes. I need one more for the conference room. Right now we haul the office chair over every time there's a meeting, and it's a genuine inconvenience—not to mention it puts the enlisted men through too much trouble. I figured it would be better to simply keep another chair there."

"Understood. Shall I make it in a similar style to the last one?"

"Yes, that would be more than enough. Once you've sat in one of your chairs, Master Kang, you simply cannot sit in anything else. If that's a flaw, I suppose it's the only one. Haha."

I let the joke pass and slipped in a question about my brother.

"You flatter me. Ah, by the way—is Jeonghwan getting along all right in the service?"

He answered with the easy confidence of a man telling me not to worry.

"Don't you worry. I'm looking after him personally. What happened last time will never happen again."

"Thank you, Lieutenant General."

It wasn't just anyone saying it. A three-star general promising to look after him personally—Jeonghwan's military life was probably going to be quite comfortable. I didn't normally offer a regular's discount, but while my little brother was serving in the military, that was a different story.

"This is your third commission, Lieutenant General, so I'll take a bit off from last time—"

I was still talking money when Lieutenant General Hwang's gaze locked onto something behind me. A moment later, he asked in a trembling voice,

"M-Master Kang..."

"Yes?"

"That calligraphy in the frame behind you—could it possibly be the work of Master Matsuoka Genjiro...?"

I nodded, my expression even.

"Yes, that's right. Master Matsuoka sent it as a gift. I was just trying to decide where to hang it, actually."

"A g-gift...!? Master Matsuoka gave this to you himself?"

"Yes. We crossed paths, in a manner of speaking."

He stared in open astonishment.

"You really are remarkable... To have a connection that reaches even a man like Master Matsuoka. Then again, considering your skill, I suppose it isn't so strange."

"Haha. You flatter me."

"Flattery? Not at all. Master Matsuoka's calligraphy is extraordinary, of course—but in my opinion, the things you make surpass even that."

He looked at the writing again and let out another breath of admiration.

"That aside, this really is something. I'm a fan of Master Matsuoka's work myself, and I've seen a great deal of his calligraphy—but this is among the very finest of it."

"It's that caliber of work?"

"Without question. Ah, that reminds me—a piece of his, of a lower grade than this one, came up at a Japanese auction recently..."

He pulled out his phone, scrolled for a moment, and showed me the winning bid.

Huh...?

There were a lot more zeros on the end than I had expected. I stared at him and asked again,

"It actually sold for that much?"

"Yes. And in my opinion, this piece would go for even more."

"......"

It was a gift, so I had never planned to sell it no matter the price—but seeing that figure, I couldn't help wondering whether I even had any business hanging it in the All-Around Workshop. For no particular reason, the workshop's security, which had looked perfectly adequate a moment ago, suddenly seemed riddled with holes.

I should at least put locks on the windows...

That should be enough, I think.

A few days after Lieutenant General Hwang Dae-gyun had gone, I went over the window locks again. I replaced all the glass with the shatter-resistant kind and switched every lock to a dual system. It had cost a fair amount, but there was no helping it. If the calligraphy hanging on the workshop wall might be worth more than my house, I could hardly sit still and do nothing.

"Just one thing left..."

Most of the work was done. Only one task remained—and it was the one thing I couldn't do myself.

Vroom.

Speak of the devil. The sound of an engine cutting off drifted in from outside the door, and a moment later,

"Rocom. You're Kang Cheolwoo, the one who requested Security System C, correct?"

"Ah, yes, that's me. If you could install it around this door here."

No matter what other security I already had in place, I was still uneasy. With a system like this installed, they could respond within ten minutes if a thief ever broke in. It would cost a bit every month, but that was far better than losing Master Matsuoka's calligraphy—or the expensive materials.

The technician from Rocom finished the installation with practiced ease in under thirty minutes.

"Whew, all done. You can disarm it with a fingerprint or a card."

"I appreciate it."

I handed him a bottle of Bacchus from the fridge. He thanked me and drained it in a single go.

"Thank you."

But the Rocom technician, who ought to have been on his way, didn't leave. His gaze drifted toward the windows, and he turned back to me.

"Oh, and if you bundle our window security system with this installation, we can give you a discount. Have you considered window security?"

"The windows? Ah, I already took care of those myself."

A faintly dismissive look crossed his face as he walked over to a window frame I hadn't gotten around to finishing yet.

"Come on, sir. There's a world of difference between a homemade job and a Rocom window security system. The dual-lock system we developed—unlike those other locks that pop right open if you so much as give them a good knock—"

Thud. Thud.

A baffled expression settled over his face. At this point the window should have opened, and the fact that it hadn't clearly threw him.

"So if I hit it here like this... huh? Why isn't this..."

As if it would open.

It was a window lock I had made myself. If it were going to give like that, I never would have built it in the first place.

"I made it myself. I don't think even a sledgehammer would get that open."

"How is this even possible...?"

He kept at it for a good while before finally giving up. Then, as if realizing he had overdone it, he bowed his head.

"Ah, I'm sorry... I got a little carried away..."

"It's fine. Anyone might."

"But did you really make that yourself...?"

I nodded.

"That's incredible... Wow, this is the first time I've ever seen a privately made lock that wouldn't give. Anyway, sorry for the trouble. I'll be on my way!"

"Take care."

After the Rocom technician left, I finished installing the remaining window frame and picked up my hammer once more.

What's left for today...

I glanced at the whiteboard. There were still three jobs I needed to finish before the day was out.

"Nngh... I'm going to have to kick it into a higher gear."

I pulled a Bacchus from the fridge and drank it, slapped my cheeks to clear my head, and switched on the electric furnace. Flames bloomed to life inside.

All right. Let's get to it.

Chairman Jung Tae-geun of the Daesan Group hadn't been able to wipe the smile off his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠face lately. And why would he? Jae-hak, his youngest son—the one aching concern among his children—had been improving by leaps and bounds, and had already claimed his second victory of the season. These days, he couldn't attend a single gathering without everyone going on about Jae-hak, telling him how envious they were.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one thing that sat poorly with him was the strange articles that cropped up from time to time.

"That name again!"

Kang Cheolwoo, Kang Cheolwoo, Kang Cheolwoo. His son could barely hold the spotlight as it was, and every so often this name would appear alongside his and snatch it away, souring Chairman Jung's mood. He called the secretariat at once.

Daesan was a major conglomerate, but sitting at the tail end of the business rankings, it seemed they didn't place ads in every newspaper.

Chairman Jung slammed the phone down in a rage. But he knew the truth of it, too. The reason Kang Cheolwoo's name appeared so often had nothing to do with the press. It was because of his son. Whenever Jae-hak won, he never failed to mention Kang Cheolwoo's name and thank him. He might forget to mention his own father's name, but he had never once left out Kang Cheolwoo.

"How well could the man possibly make things, anyway..."

Lately, that name hadn't been confined to articles about his son. It kept appearing on the television program Authentic & Masterpiece as well, more and more frequently.

"Nngh..."

Seeing the name of the man who had stolen his son's credit so often was enough to put him in a foul mood. And yet, a part of him was curious. Just how well did he have to make things, for everyone to praise him like this?

He swallowed his irritation and searched for more articles on Jae-hak—and his glasses slipped down his nose again.

"This again..."

It wasn't the first time, or the second. He'd had them custom-made to fit his face more times than he cared to count, and still they ended up like this. For a man whose poor eyesight meant he wore glasses constantly, it was a genuine nuisance.

Then a rather appealing thought occurred to him.

Wait a second... what if I had that guy take a crack at it?