I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 70: Siren (Complete)

“Introduce yourselves. This is Siren, and this is Choi Yeseo.”

I gestured with two fingers, pointing from one to the other.

“…So the whole reason you suddenly asked to meet was for this?!”

Choi Yeseo looked at me, her face full of bewilderment.

“How is it? Refreshing, right?”

Siren, seemingly happy to see someone new, smiled as she spoke.

“Uh, yeah… it’s a little intimidating, though.”

“Haha! Don’t worry. As long as you stay on the rock, you’ll be safe.”

I avoided Choi Yeseo’s pointed stare as she gave me a look that screamed, What is this all about?

Trust me, I wanted to change this strange environment as much as she did.

Siren, meanwhile, bombarded Choi Yeseo with endless questions.

As I watched them, my mind drifted back to how this situation had come about.

[What? You want me to come now?]

Choi Yeseo’s voice on the other end of the phone was laced with confusion.

“Are you busy? If you are, we can do it another time. There’s no rush.”

[No, no! I’ll come now.]

I could hear the sound of a hurried commotion through the phone before she hung up.

“Heh, you two seem close,” came a voice from beside me.

“Of course. We’re not just ordinary friends.”

“Hoho, I see.”

The speaker was Lee Ji-chul, the director, who chuckled quietly at my response.

We were in his private studio.

Although he wasn’t entirely comfortable lending me [Siren], he’d agreed after attaching a few conditions.

One of those conditions was working in the same room as him.

“Aren’t you busy with other things?” I asked.

“There’s a saying: While some people automate their gaming to work, I automate my work so I can game directly.”

“Wow, that’s… impressive.”

Everyone has their own definition of a successful life, but that felt like true success to me.

“Haha. Didn’t you say it yourself? Time is the ultimate wealth. I just live by that principle.”

“Most higher-ups are always busy, though.”

“True, but many of them exaggerate. Some do it to feel important.”

We chatted casually as we waited for Choi Yeseo to arrive.

Lee Ji-chul ran his hand over [Siren], which lay on a large table in front of him.

“I may be too old to see it properly, but I can still feel it with my hands.”

“Is that so?”

Being still young, I couldn’t fully grasp his sentiment.

…If I added my past life’s years to my age now, maybe I’d understand.

But that felt like cheating.

“As someone who’s dedicated their entire life to art, it’s only natural,” he said, letting out a soft chuckle before sighing deeply.

“I’ll give you the Old School’s key.”

“Wait, what? Just like that?”

“Haha, I’d planned to give it to you anyway—ever since you won the Prize, actually.”

So, fairly recently then.

I felt uneasy. Just as Teacher Lee A-reum had warned me, it seemed there was more to this than met the eye.

As he handed me the bundle of keys, he noticed my expression.

“What’s with that face? Do you need the restroom or something?”

“No, no. It’s just… are there ghosts or anything in the Old School?”

“What?” He burst into laughter. “Pfft—Hahaha!”

He laughed so hard he ended up wiping tears from his eyes. I thought for a moment he might keel over.

“You’re quite the joker.”

“Yeah… I’m embarrassed now, so can you stop laughing?”

I knew how ridiculous I sounded. But what if some ghostly manifestation appeared because of the masterpiece’s illusions?

That would be terrifying.

…How did they stabilize the spatial coordinates anyway?

It probably wouldn’t work here—this was an illusory world, after all.

When I go, I’ll make sure to bring Teacher with me.

No way was I going there alone.

“What’s so important in the Old School that it’s locked up so tightly?”

“Woo-hwa asked me to pass it on to her future disciple. I don’t actually know what’s in there.”

“My mentor… she was here at this school?”

“Yes, during her time as a guest lecturer, I believe.”

The more I peeled back the layers of my mentor’s story, the more there was to uncover.

She wasn’t just an onion—she was a whole watermelon.

“It’s been so long, though,” Lee Ji-chul said, just as the studio door opened.

“Excuse me… Oh! Ha-eun!”

Choi Yeseo hesitated by the entrance, her face lighting up when she spotted me.

“You waltz into my personal studio like it’s yours, but now you’re nervous?”

“This isn’t the same! Oh—ah, hello!”

She quickly straightened up and bowed when she noticed Lee Ji-chul.

“Haha, you two seem to have a good relationship.”

“A good relationship… Hehe.”

She seemed pleased by the comment. Anyway, with her here, it was time to get started.

“See you in a bit,” I said.

“Have a good trip,” the director replied.

I grabbed Choi Yeseo’s hand.

“Huh? Where are we going now?”

“To a refreshing seaside… well, actually, the middle of the sea.”

“What does that even—”

And now here we were.

“Ha-eun, is this really a virtual world? It feels way too realistic…”

Choi Yeseo glanced at me as she spoke, mid-conversation with Siren.

“Don’t worry. Our bodies are safe outside. Although, if you stay too long, you might feel a little dizzy.”

“It’s fine. Most people can handle up to 12 hours here without issues,” Siren added, resting her arms on the rock.

“Is it really okay to trust this…?”

“Honestly, you’ll learn more here than you would at any company.”

I didn’t know much about singing, but as far as I knew, no one sang better than Siren.

“Alright, I’ll trust you.”

With a deep breath, Choi Yeseo’s worries seemed to fade.

The way she put her faith in me was… strange.

“I’ll come back to pick you up later.”

“Huh? You’re not staying?”

“It’s dangerous for me to stay here too long.”

Understanding, she nodded.

Time here flowed at the same pace as in the real world. While I couldn’t measure time accurately here, I could keep track from outside.

And besides, I had other things to do.

Waving goodbye, I closed my eyes.

“So, what’s your plan now?”

Lee Ji-chul’s voice snapped me back to reality. I simply shrugged.

“It’s easier to add layers than to start fresh.”

“And the one inside?”

“No issues. Choi Yeseo and Siren will be safe.”

“Your understanding of masterpieces is truly remarkable,” he said, letting out a low whistle of admiration as he settled into his chair.

Beside him, Choi Yeseo sat perfectly still, her eyes closed.

I also sat down, facing the painting of Siren.

“Every masterpiece painting already has a world of its own.”

Changing that world means altering the painting itself, and those changes must be made without ruining the existing world.

In other words, as I mentioned earlier, the only method is layering new paint on top.

And, as it turns out, most masterpieces are the result of layers upon layers of added paint.

Of course, the masterpieces themselves don’t know this.

“Then, doesn’t that make it a relatively simple task?”

“Well… what’s ‘simple’ differs from person to person. For me, this is anything but easy.”

Take [Siren], for example. It’s a world born from my own jealousy.

Can you imagine the mental strain required to create such a world?

This would take quite some time.

“At best, it’s just adding layers… Maybe three months or so.”

“Still, I didn’t expect you to give me permission so easily,” I said, picking up a brush and preparing for the task.

“Call it a whim. Besides, weren’t there conditions attached?”

“With all the money you have, why charge a rental fee?”

“Hahaha! If I don’t, it feels like I’m losing something.”

“Aren’t you worried I’ll mess it up? I’m only 17.”

“Not a chance. Woo-hwa’s disciple wouldn’t make mistakes.”

Ah, the wisdom of age—a mystery in itself.

It’s said that some people have a knack for reading others. Isn’t that practically a superpower?

After a brief period of preparation, I finally lifted my brush.

All masterpieces were created with brushes, though not exclusively so.

[Siren] was an oil painting.

“[Siren] incorporates all oil painting techniques.”

Impasto, wet-on-dry, wet-on-wet, glazing, knife painting, blending, pointillism, and marbling.

A total of eight techniques—all present in [Siren].

“This will take some time. Let’s start with impasto today.”

Impasto involves applying thick layers of paint, typically with a brush, knife, or even hands.

In my case, I used a brush.

Notable artists who used impasto techniques include the famous Vincent van Gogh and Diego Velázquez. Later artists like Raine and Byeon Wol-ryong also employed it.

Impasto is ideal for emphasizing specific areas, so I decided to refine the rock.

I smoothed out its jagged surface to make it more level.

For stability, I added a slight wall where the seawater crashed against it.

I had to be cautious, though—too smooth, and it would become dangerously slippery.

Finishing all the impasto work in one day was impossible.

“Let’s call it a day. It’s been six hours already,” Lee Ji-chul said.

The cool touch on my cheek helped me catch my breath.

“Is it that exhausting?”

“Sit in this body for six hours, and you’ll understand. Plus, revising a masterpiece is mentally draining.”

I cracked open the can of soda he handed me and downed it in one go.

“Ahh… That’s better.”

“Now, shouldn’t you call for that girl? It’s about time for dinner.”

“True. I need to wrap up soon.”

When he offered to treat me to dinner, I initially declined.

“But it’s wagyu omakase,” he said.

“Let’s go.”

…Sometimes, it’s good to indulge.

I refocused my mind on [Siren] one last time.

The next thing I knew, I was back at the ocean.

On the rock, Choi Yeseo and Siren were laughing together as if they were having the time of their lives.

“Yeseo, time’s up. Let’s go eat.”

“Ah! You startled me… Oh, Ha-eun. Alright.”

Choi Yeseo gave Siren a wistful look.

“I’ll come back again!”

“Okay, see you next time,” Siren replied, waving with a smile.

Soon, Choi Yeseo’s form disappeared, leaving only Siren and me behind.

“Did you enjoy yourself?”

“It looked like you did,” I replied.

For a moment, silence filled the space.

“The rock really has changed. Yeseo doesn’t seem to realize it, though.”

“I worked hard on it. And to think I’m this worn out just from fixing a single rock.”

“Heh. You did well, Ha-eun.”

“Alright, I’m heading out. I’ll be back within two days, even if I’m slow.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

We exchanged a light farewell, and I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again—

“Haah…”

I felt my body drenched in cold sweat.

“Ugh, I need a shower first. I can’t go anywhere like this.”

The two people in the room nodded in agreement.

Sigh. There’s just too much to do.