I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 62: Banquet Hall (2)

The photo from Uncle Hong Jin-hu didn’t seem particularly noteworthy at first glance.

It was an ordinary picture: my family and my uncle standing together, with a painting visible in the background.

Nothing unusual—at least to most people.

But to me, it was an incredibly strange photo.

“Why is that there?”

My eyes were fixated on the painting.

It dominated the wall, large enough to take up the space of about five people standing side by side.

One of the masterpieces I painted in my past life.

I knew it was in Korea, under state management, and hadn’t paid it much thought since.

“Did S Group pull some strings? Or maybe the chairman?”

Whatever the case, I now had a reason to visit the banquet hall.

I stopped by my house to quickly grab a few things before heading out.

The S Group headquarters was located in Gangnam District.

“Ugh, such a hassle.”

Luckily, I managed to hail a taxi without much trouble and headed straight to the venue.

On the way, I began organizing my thoughts.

The Masterpieces of My Past Life

One by one, the masterpieces from my past life came to mind:

Mammon, Demon of Greed (The Gumiho)

 

Leviathan, Demon of Envy (The Siren)

 

Satan, Demon of Wrath (The Dragon)

 

Asmodeus, Demon of Lust (Sara)

 

Beelzebub, Demon of Gluttony (Cerberus)

 

Belphegor, Demon of Sloth (The Phoenix)

 

Lucifer, Fallen Angel of Pride (The Angel)

Each of these seven masterpieces revolved around the same theme: demons. 

They were inspired by the Seven Deadly Sins, with each sin personified by its corresponding demon.

As I’ve said before, a masterpiece doesn’t merely convey life—it encapsulates it.

Each of these paintings held a life, perhaps mine, or perhaps that of the demon it represented.

Take The Dragon, for instance. When I was overwhelmed with rage in my past life, I channeled that emotion into the painting. Over time, the accumulated fury shaped itself into a masterpiece.

Though I used The Dragon as an example, my first masterpiece was The Gumiho.

“Well… not that it matters now.”

Lost in thought, I didn’t even notice we’d arrived at the venue.

“Thank you. Have a safe drive!”

For now, I needed to confirm what was going on.

“Why does this building have 20 floors? How long is this going to take?”

I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 13th floor, where the banquet was being held.

The interior of the building was overwhelmingly lavish, with golden accents everywhere.

“Why is even the necklace display case made of gold?”

Gold here, gold there—everything was gold.

Even for a wealthy company like S Group, this level of extravagance seemed excessive.

“Wait, why are they hosting this banquet in the first place?”

Was today a special occasion? Maybe the birthday of the chairman’s daughter or something?

“Should I have brought a gift?”

As these idle thoughts swirled in my head, the elevator chimed.

[Ding!]
[You have arrived on the 13th floor.]

The doors slid open, and I stepped out into the hallway. I glanced at my phone.

[05:47 PM]

It was almost 6 PM. Under normal circumstances, my family would’ve been home by now, but tonight, they were all here.

“Why is this hallway unnecessarily large?”

The identical tiled patterns and seemingly endless corridors made it feel like I was walking in circles.

“Surely I won’t get lost here… right?”

I wasn’t my mom, after all—I couldn’t possibly lose my way inside a building.

After wandering for a while, I finally found the door to the banquet hall.

“Wow. This feels like the entrance to heaven or something.”

The ornate double doors looked like they led straight to paradise.

As I stood there, staring, I took a step forward.

“Excuse me, do you have an invitation?”

A burly guard approached, stopping me in my tracks.

“Oh, the invitation.”

Of course, this was a banquet. An invitation would be required.

What now?

“Sorry, but without an invitation, you can’t enter.”

The look in his eyes screamed, “Please leave.” To him, I must’ve looked like a clueless kid who had wandered in by mistake.

“Hmm.”

But I had come to the right place.

Just then, my phone buzzed.

[Ring, ring.]

Uncle Hong Jin-hu was calling.

“Where are you? Took you long enough.”
“I’d love to come in, but I don’t have an invitation.”
“Oh, the invitation!”

How could you forget something so important, Uncle?

“Wait right there. I’ll come get you.”

Moments later, the grand doors opened, and Uncle Hong stepped out.

“Hoho, my apologies for the inconvenience.”

Uncle Hong Jin-hu chuckled lightly, his hands clasped behind his back, and addressed the guards.

“This young man is my guest. Let him through.”

“Oh, we didn’t realize he was a guest of Mr. Taeyang. You may proceed.”

The guards bowed slightly, and I followed Uncle Hong into the banquet hall.

The sight that greeted me was exactly what I expected.

“They really poured a lot of money into this.”

The extravagant decor screamed of upper-class indulgence—something straight out of a high-society party.

“Where’s my family?”
“They’re over there.”

Uncle Hong pointed to a group of about six people chatting together.

Among them, I recognized my parents. Both of them had slightly flushed faces, clearly tipsy from drinking.

“No wonder they didn’t answer my calls. Between the loud atmosphere and the alcohol, it’s no surprise they missed them.”

Now, where was the youngest member of our family?

I scanned the banquet hall, and there she was.

“That little rascal…”

Ha-yoon was having a lively tea party with some rich kids. One of the boys in particular seemed a little too interested in her.

“Should I kill him?”

The thought was instinctive, a reflexive reaction.

Thankfully, Hong Yehwa was sitting next to her, keeping an eye on things.

At least I could trust Yehwa’s no-nonsense personality. If anything happened, she’d step in.

“Does my family know I’m here?”
“Nope.”
“…?”

What? Why not?

Uncle Hong scratched his head awkwardly when he caught my expression.

“Well, was there any need to tell them? You’ll see them soon enough anyway.”

“Seriously, how did you end up as a high-ranking member of Atlantis?”

Between Ms. Lee A-reum and Uncle Hong, the people around me were truly something else.

“Fine. I’ll see them later anyway. For now…”

Oh. Eye contact.

Just as I was about to head toward the masterpiece, I locked eyes with Hong Yehwa.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she recognized me.

I gave her a small, casual nod and looked away.

Since Uncle Hong was beside me, she must have decided this wasn’t the time to approach me.

I’ll see you later. And keep an eye on my sister.

Mouthing the words, I saw Yehwa catch my meaning perfectly. She gave a small, calm smile.

Got it. I’ll wait.

She mouthed back in response.

Leaving the bustling banquet hall behind, I stopped at the stairs leading to the second floor.

“You’re here because of the masterpiece, aren’t you?”
“…More or less. You knew?”
“Of course. I’ve been in this field for 30 years, after all.”

Uncle Hong’s eyes, filled with experience, rested on the masterpiece.

“A masterpiece is different from a mere great work. It exists on a level beyond something that influences the mind—it transcends.”

I remained silent.

After all, the very concepts he was discussing were ones I had created. The only other person who knew of them was my accursed mentor.

“What do you think a masterpiece is?”
“Suddenly? It’s just a painting, isn’t it? Nothing special.”
“Nothing special, yet you came all this way for it?”
“……”

As I clamped my mouth shut, Uncle Hong chuckled and gestured toward the masterpiece.

“Strange, isn’t it? You don’t feel anything from it. To most people, it’s just an ordinary painting, indistinguishable from countless others in the market.”
“True. It doesn’t have the grand presence of a great work.”
“But still, it’s called a masterpiece for a reason.”

Uncle Hong’s hand brushed over the transparent case encasing the painting.

“The masterpiece in Korea is The Siren. And the one before us now, too, is The Siren.”
“I see.”

I gazed at The Siren with indifferent eyes.

Uncle Hong glanced at me with a peculiar expression.

“Do you feel nothing at all?”
“Not really. Unlike a great work, it doesn’t project illusions or anything.”
“…You’re lying.”

His sharp eyes saw through me instantly.

Fine. I’ll be honest.

The transparent case kept anyone from getting closer than a meter to The Siren.

Unlike a great work, it didn’t evoke feelings or visions. But I had described a masterpiece as something containing not life, but existence.

And right now, the “existence” of The Siren was replaying in my mind.

It felt like watching a movie unfold.

“Tsk. This is my limit right now.”

My current body was too weak to fully embrace The Siren.

But it didn’t matter. I already knew its story.

It was my painting. How could I not know?

“Of course, the artist is unknown. That’s the case for all masterpieces scattered around the world.”

I barely listened as Uncle Hong continued speaking.

“Later. I’ll come back for you. When I’m ready, we’ll catch up.”

I silently made the promise. Surely, The Siren would welcome me back.

“So why is it here? I thought the government was managing it.”

At my question, Uncle Hong scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t know. I only came because I received an invitation.”
“What do you know, exactly?”
“Now, that’s uncalled for.”

Before he could answer, a third voice interrupted.

“I brought it here.”

Turning my head slowly, I saw a man in a gray suit leaning on a cane.

His appearance practically screamed, I am the chairman.

The elderly man exuded authority as he stepped forward.