I Was Michelangelo in My Past Life

A Shady Glass Workshop.

Kang-seok, who was staring at the pale pink heart, lifted his hammer. Then he brought it down. Thud! Soft, crunch, crack. Something malleable and solid was torn as if crushed by the stone of the hammer.

With an expressionless face, Kang-seok struck the hammer down, resembling Michelangelo who once struck his own works with a hammer, saying they lacked soul. His seemingly expressionless face was full of anger, and his pupils burned with a longing for perfection.

It was an obsession with the work.

Kang-seok pushed the crushed alginate aside and began sprinkling alginate powder into the bowl again.

February 28.

The last day of February.

On a rainy afternoon that made one realize even the weeds on the street had a smell, Jo Dong-beom hurried along. With one hand dragging a suitcase, and the other clutching a box to his chest, his face was full of satisfaction.

'That was fun.'

The box in Jo Dong-beom's hand was the reason for his 3-day, 2-night business trip. A wave glass workshop that opened in Haeundae, Busan. They wrapped it up so well, saying their works were inspired by the Busan sea and waves, that Jo Dong-beom bought one without hesitation.

He immediately regretted it afterward. But well, isn't this part of the charm of a business trip? He imagined where to put it in the office while looking inside the suitcase.

'I hope they like it.'

He had bought a bunch of things to share with his mentor inside the suitcase.

From all the trendy breads in Busan to the famous assorted fish cake set, he packed as much as he could, even closing the suitcase by stepping on it. Just the gifts alone would be enough food for three meals a day for a week.

Humming happily with a swelling sense of pride, Jo Dong-beom looked down at the box again.

Naturally, memories of the wave-shaped glass bottle inside the box surfaced.

Most of the items inside the workshop were blue and teal, which was a bit disappointing, but they produced quite decent shades of blue-toned colored glass.

Recalling this much, Jo Dong-beom sighed.

Three months ago.

If only he had visited the wave glass workshop three months earlier, it would have been better. He would have enjoyed appreciating how well even the tiny waves were represented, thinking 'things that sell well are really those that sell.'

But Jo Dong-beom hadn't been able to do that.

Throughout the entire 3-day trip, Jo Dong-beom kept thinking about his mentor at the end of every sentence and had been completely overwhelmed during the whole schedule.

'If it were my mentor, they would have made it better.'

'If it were my mentor, they would have done it this way. My mentor could have done even that. My mentor would never have made it like that.'

'If only it were my mentor…!'

From beginning to end, all he could think about was his mentor. Why had it come to this? Well, Jo Dong-beom knew the reason better than anyone.

His eyes were stuck to the tips of his mentor's toes.

He thought he had to at least keep up with the tips of his mentor's toes to feel like he was making something decent. It was a big problem. How could he have such high standards at thirty years old? Jo Dong-beom sighed again.

Of course, part of him thought it was good. That meant his eye for quality had become sharper and his experience broader. To survive in the workshop, he needed to stay sensitive to trends and research better lessons.

Therefore, it was fortunate that his standards had improved. But this was only possible because he had watched thousands of glass shaping sessions briefly alongside his mentor.

'Is this why old apprentices revered their mentors like fathers?'

He began to understand it somewhat. Not long ago, he had been fed up with such outdated ideas, but now he wondered how he had come to this. Jo Dong-beom marveled at himself as he opened the garage door.

The moment he stepped into the workshop converted from the garage, Jo Dong-beom felt one thing:

It was chilly.

It was chilly enough that the outside seemed warmer. Just as he was about to turn from the chill, a breeze blew. Perhaps a cloud covered the sun, as shadows quickly spread over the workshop.

"...Mentor?"

Jo Dong-beom took a slow step forward.

After a few steps, still not used to the darkness, he couldn't make out objects clearly. He walked toward the light beyond an obscured object far away when something suddenly hit his foot.

A marble? Jo Dong-beom glanced down unconsciously. Even in the dark, it was definitely white. But was it really a marble? It seemed quite large for a marble. He lightly flicked it with his toe, and there was a squishy sound.

A white foreign substance popped out beneath his sole. Ah. Ahh. Jo Dong-beom, whose whole body got goosebumps as if insects were crawling on him from the feeling underfoot, blinked. What he had stepped on was an eye.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

Screaming! Screaming! Jo Dong-beom hopped in place like a grasshopper. "Ah! I stepped on it! I stepped on an eye! No way! Ahhh!" He writhed as if a bug had crawled inside his body.

At the same time, there was a rustling sound. Footsteps rapidly approaching this way. Jo Dong-beom turned pale and looked toward the light. Just as he panicked and covered his mouth,

"Oh, you're here?"

Kang-seok appeared from the darkness.

"...Me, mentor?"

"Is it already the 28th?"

It was really his mentor Kang-seok, who seemed to have lost track of the date. Jo Dong-beom ran to him.

"M-me-m-m-mentor! Waaah!"

Jo Dong-beom threw off his sneaker that had stepped on the eyeball, stamped his feet anxiously, and grabbed Kang-seok's pant leg.

"Waaah, the eyeball! Waaah! Ugh! Uuugh! Ugh!"

Kang-seok looked down in embarrassment at Jo Dong-beom, who was crying out loudly about what had happened. Although it was a bit awkward seeing a man over thirty gagging, Kang-seok furrowed his brows mainly because he couldn't understand what Jo Dong-beom was saying.

"What are you talking about?" Kang-seok narrowed his brows and tried to focus. Under the discarded shoe, he spotted something white. A glossy white foreign substance with red vein-like lines and a round shape resembling an eyeball.

Ah.

"So it had rolled here."

No wonder he couldn't find it. While Kang-seok looked at the floor, muttering that he didn't realize he had forgotten it, Jo Dong-beom raised his head. The man who had been crying suddenly blinked.

Thinking back, Kang-seok was the only one who had originally been in this workshop. Jo Dong-beom looked up at Kang-seok stiffly. Then Kang-seok muttered while wiping off the white jelly-like substance from his shoe:

"I'll have to make it again."

"Huh?"

What did he say?

Jo Dong-beom looked at Kang-seok.

"W-what are you going to make again?"

Kang-seok looked down at him with a questioning look and answered,

"The Marktoob No.1 eyeball."

"Marktoob? Ma-ma-ma-marktoob?"

Jo Dong-beom stared in surprise. Marktoob was the anatomical reference model Kang-seok had said he would make. So that was what he made? Jo Dong-beom looked at the crushed eyeball in shock.

...What on earth happened during the 3 days and 2 nights when I wasn't here?

'Did he break through a job quest to advance to a god while I was gone?'

It couldn't be otherwise. That was what Jo Dong-beom said after seeing the practice result.

Kang-seok laughed, shaking his head with a towel. It was always delightful to see someone amazed by his work. Of course, Kang-seok was not yet satisfied.

Running his hand through his hair, Kang-seok walked toward the kitchen. On the kitchen table was a letter he had taken out from the mailbox on his way home.

"But why a letter?"

Baek Myeong-hee, Kang-seok's mother, who was cooking in the kitchen, looked back curiously. Kang-seok immediately flipped the letter and checked the sender.

Lee Young-hyuk. Lee Young-hyuk. The ornithologist who had sold his house for the price of a wild owl sculpture. Inside the envelope were two photos with no letterhead.

Wild owl.

Looks like he went to take photos. Kang-seok looked at the photos focused on the wild owl and gave a deflated smile.

"This was sent by Grandpa Lee Young-hyuk."

"Oh, really? That person?"

Baek Myeong-hee, who had put down the braised ribs and sat opposite, took the photos. There was only one rice bowl on the table.

Baek Myeong-hee said she had already eaten, and Kang Chae-young and Kang Hyun-do had gone to a nearby park for fireworks, which they hadn't done in a long time. Kang-seok picked up the rice bowl, greeted them, and picked up chopsticks.

Only then did Kang-seok see the braised ribs reflected in his pupils. The braised ribs killer Kang Chae-young had left the food untouched. When his mother had made braised ribs and they ate, the leftover ribs would always disappear into Kang Chae-young's mouth. Kang-seok picked up the ribs with chopsticks with a dazed expression.

Baek Myeong-hee, having read the gaze in those eyes, offered an answer.

"Chaeyoung said you hadn't eaten much, so she insisted on getting galbijjim. That place was like the frozen food gatekeeper."

"Really?"

"Yeah, that's what she said."

Kang Seok instinctively glanced toward Kang Chaeyoung's room. Even though she had gone out saying she'd come back after setting off fireworks.

How strange. Kang Seok nodded and ate the ribs. Then Baek Myeong-hee clapped her hands as if she had just remembered something.

"Actually, I got a call from the academy today."

"The academy?"

"Yeah. You know that sculpture academy you were going to."

Ah, the sculpture academy. The well-known sculpture art academy [Ddang] in Seogyo-dong, near Cheongdae. Kang Seok nodded.

"Why? What about it?"

"They asked if you're going to quit."

"...The academy actually calls my mom to ask that?"

"That's what they did. You didn't go to the winter special classes at all, right? That's why they called."

"What did they say?"

"They asked if you were quitting. Said it's a crucial time and it's such a waste, mentioning you have talent... But then again, they also said your grades are decent but your skills haven't improved much. Yesterday, they even suggested maybe preparing for Korea National University of Arts or Seoul National University instead. Said sculpture is relatively less competitive and you have potential. Something like that. And guess what—they asked me about teacher Ko Doo-han's solo exhibition?"

Baek Myeong-hee poured barley tea as she spoke.

"Funny, right? Suddenly about Ko Doo-han's solo exhibition. How does that spread so fast at the academy?"

"Well, rumors travel fast around academies."

Kang Seok answered as if it was no big deal.

Entrance exam art academies, especially well-established franchises, were the frontline of rumors. Spending all vacation with the academy teachers like family naturally led to lots of gossip.

Besides, the sculpture academy [Ddang] that Kang Seok attended had four branches in the metropolitan area, and the main branch was right there in Seogyo-dong near Cheongdae.

There were several classmates majoring in sculpture at Cheonghwa Arts High School attending the same academy. News that Kang Seok had participated in teacher Ko Doo-han's solo exhibition would have spread through the academy countless times already.

"But Seok, so what will you do? Are you really going to quit?"

Baek Myeong-hee finally brought up the question she'd been wanting to ask for weeks. While others spent their whole day at the academy, Kang Seok hadn't gone even once during the entire vacation.

At first, it was for portfolio preparation and personal statements, she thought. But seeing him get commissions like the owl sculpture from Professor Lee Min-hyuk and mural work at the Peony Gallery, it was clear he wasn't going to attend the winter special classes from the start.

"Hmm."

"Are you sure you'll be okay without the academy?"

Baek Myeong-hee knew Kang Seok had incredible talent. She could tell just by looking at him—not staring at the floor all the time. But unfortunately, entrance exam art was a different matter.

Universities want to break free from the typical entrance exam art mold, but they can't. So academies always made money. Kang Seok's free-spirited art might not work well for entrance exams.

Could he do entrance exam art without going to an academy? Baek Myeong-hee looked at Kang Seok with worried eyes. It was a bitter reality of Korea.

"I'm fine."

But Kang Seok dismissed such concerns.

Why is entrance exam art necessary? It's needed to get into art school. And Kang Seok had a plan for that part. Though he wasn't about to explain it to his parents now.

"I want to quit the academy. Is that okay?"

"...If that's what you want. The academy is your choice. Then, what should we do? Go with your mom and tell them you're quitting and eat something delicious?"

Baek Myeong-hee's household budget was finally a bit comfortable. Before, she struggled with finances, trying to plug holes here and there, but now money was left even if she wrote casually.

Since Kang Seok carved that cradle sculpture, things had been going smoothly.

Baek Myeong-hee's eyes sparkled.

Kang Seok, having put down the ribs he was eating, tilted his head.

"Is there any refund from the academy?"

"No? None, right?"

"Then I'll go on my own."

If he was quitting, there was no point in making a good impression. It wasn't a school. Entrance exam academies were ultimately money-making businesses, desperate to hang banners boasting how many students they passed. They needed every student.

"Still, wouldn't it be better to go together?"

"No."

They'd probably flatter him with honeyed words to keep him from quitting, invite him to pick up his stuff from the locker before he escaped.

For high school seniors, how much money went into entrance exam academies made it understandable. The senior year business was the jackpot. Kang Seok finished chewing the ribs firmly.

"I'm fine. I'm going to go straight to the studio afterward, so it's easier to come and go alone. More flexible."

"Really? Then do that. But if the teachers give you a hard time, call me right away, okay?"

Worried, Baek Myeong-hee gently placed more galbijjim on top of the rice bowl. He had just finished the ribs, but new ribs were now flaunting their beauty on the white rice.

"Eat a lot, my son."

"Yes."

Kang Seok's lips twitched.

Home was definitely the best.

.

.

.

The next day.

Kang Seok opened his sleepy eyes. After blinking a few times, the hazy afterimages cleared and it felt like a refreshing morning. What time was it now?

His head turned toward the phone by his bedside. The light glowing in the dark showed 10:30 AM. One day before school started—March 1st.

Even entrance exam art academies got to rest on holidays.

He felt a little guilty going to the glass workshop on a public holiday.

More importantly, school started tomorrow.

Kang Seok stared blankly at the ceiling.

It had been a long time since he felt this relaxed.

Though his schedule wasn't relaxing at all, Kang Seok thought so.

What should I do today? The sound of the refrigerator humming seeped through the closed door. Everyone in the family must have gone out, leaving only the white noise of electronic devices stimulating Kang Seok's ears.

Then—

Jiiiiiing, jiiiiiing.

The phone rang.

"Hello?"

He answered in a hoarse voice without checking who was calling. The other person seemed startled by the low voice but quickly got to the point.

"...Seok, is that you?"

"Yes. Teacher."

The caller was Jeong Byung-kwon, his teacher. What could be the matter? Kang Seok sat up in bed and cleared his throat.

"What's going on?"

It wasn't even the first day of school yet. Checking the phone confirmed it was March 1st. What was this about? Just as curiosity bubbled up in Kang Seok's mind, Jeong Byung-kwon blurted out the main point.

—Do you know how to work with marble?