The Mysterious Art Museum

Chapter 160 (2) - The Mysterious Art Museum

【Let's take the next question, yes, you there, journalist.】

A professional announcer, in charge of the press conference, points to a journalist.

Originally, an employee of the company was going to handle it, but a broadcasting station offered to have their announcer lead it in exchange for a prime camera placement.

The conference seems to flow naturally, though it's just a deal to get a good spot and good footage. No need to be particularly grateful.

Have I been exposed to too much media?

The chosen journalist introduces their affiliation and then asks, “I heard you’ve been in Jeju for the past two years. Are all the artworks displayed in this exhibition 100% landscapes of Udo?”

The announcer signals that it's okay for me to answer. I grab the mic and nod.

“Yes, all 500 pieces are depictions of Udo’s nature.”

Was that too brief?

“I heard Jeju City installed plaques with the names of your paintings at every location you painted. If true, Jeju City would see significant revenue from tourist visits. Did you receive any support from Jeju City regarding this?”

Hmm, I think I've heard about this. I'm not particularly interested though.

“Yes, I am aware that Jeju City partially sponsored the exhibition. Honestly, I'm not sure about the details. But I'm hearing for the first time about plaques with my name being installed. Surely, they don’t have my face on them, right? That would be too embarrassing.”

Laughter erupts among the journalists. Though it's a joke, there's a hint of seriousness. The thought of 500 plaques with my face on that small island is insane.

If they really did put up pictures or drawings of my face, I’d never go there again.

More journalists raise their hands, and the announcer points to another.

“There’s been continuous mention of the young Italian genius, Lea, in relation to you. What is your relationship?”

Just hearing baby angel Lea's name brings a smile to my face. I grin broadly and say,

“We share a dream, I suppose?”

I spoke the truth, but as my words fall, the announcer's face stiffens. I can see Yeongju from afar signaling, ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Surely, even in this rotten world, no one would think that sharing a dream with an eight-year-old girl means something twisted.’

Still, after being burned by public opinion before, I add,

“I mean, we painted together.”

The sound of journalists typing fills the air. I'm a bit flustered, but my clarification prompts another question.

“There's a view that Lea’s paintings are close to Impressionism. They seem similar to the mural style you painted in the village and for a brand store. How much has she been influenced?”

She must have been influenced. I can't say how well she's done it.

The doodles I left on the walls were so haphazard it was hard to tell what they were, but she must have practiced painting a lot over the last two years.

After all, Monica, who studied art, often visited the village, so she might have received some special training.

"Well, I never taught her formally. Lea was my partner in painting the murals."

The journalists react with surprise and start murmuring.

"That mural in the village was painted two years ago, right? So Lea was only six years old then? Is she really a prodigy?"

"Seriously, a partner of Ban Jeong-hoon, not just any unknown painter? The Italian media will go crazy over this."

I smirked inwardly.

That's not what I meant. Lea was more of an assistant to me. An assistant's job is mainly to carry paint and fill water buckets.

But I couldn't say that. Just like how I watch Lea's interviews, she might be watching mine, and I don't want to disappoint her.

Due to the national interest in the news about Lea, the questions about her continued for quite a while.

And then.

Finally, those questions start coming.

The announcer picks one of the journalists raising their hands high.

【Yes, you there, journalist. Go ahead with your question.】

The microphone is passed from hand to hand to the journalist.

While other journalists had asked their questions sitting down, this one stood up, glanced around cautiously, and then spoke.

"I have a difficult question to ask."

I already know what the question will be. I respond with a jesting tone and a smile.

"Starting off with a tense one, huh?"

The journalists laugh again. The journalist who received the speaking right also laughs awkwardly and then begins.

"I can't help but ask about your incident with singer Yong-han, Mr. Painter. Could you tell us what happened that day? Why were you so angry? The public has only heard Yong-han's side for the past two years."

As soon as the journalist finishes the question, an overwhelming barrage of camera flashes erupts, incomparable to anything we've seen so far.

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