Episode 168
Chapter 56: The Sculptor of Chaos (3)
Rustle, rustle—the sound of leaves shaking announced the arrival of a woman.
She emerged from between the branches: red hair, dressed in a suit—the same woman who had sat beside Jin at the teleportation gate earlier. She quickly scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes, then broke into a wide grin and leapt down with a spring in her step.
“Hey, youngest! Jin! Hehe, hehehe, hi!”
Her voice was brimming with excitement.
Since Jin arrived at the Kon Principality yesterday, Yona had been hovering close by. Jin, using his keen perception, was well aware of her presence.
Though they hadn’t planned a thing in advance, the siblings moved in perfect sync.
“It was so hard pretending not to know!”
“Same here. How have you been, sis? Why the flashy disguise? That red hair—at the teleport gate, I thought you’d dyed it with blood or something. Gave me a scare.”
“Well, Owl-sama warned me that if Father caught me meeting you, you’d be dead. So I dyed it my favorite color. Changed my face with makeup too, hehe.”
“Hmm… I don’t quite see the connection between your favorite color and the disguise.”
That remark stirred a warning Jin had been trying to shove aside.
—Through Gilly, you warned me too. To drop any plans to use Yona for your own ends.
The warning from Siron, who had come with the Black Light Armor: don’t use Yona.
But this time, Jin wanted to close his eyes and use Yona’s abilities. He wasn’t planning to kill Bubar—just a light favor, to eavesdrop on a conversation.
‘Even if Father finds out, this much should be okay… right?’
As long as he didn’t get caught, it was fine.
And if he did, he could smooth things over by offering Siron’s bust—a masterpiece infused with the sculptor’s artistic soul.
‘What a careless thought. If Father were the kind to forgive sins over something like that, our family wouldn’t be in this mess. No way I’m getting caught. No way.’
“Don’t worry! Owl-sama promised to keep it a secret. And I’ve been on high alert—no one’s been following us.”
“That’s a relief. I’ve been checking constantly too.”
“So, what brings you here this time?”
“Half and half. Half because I missed you, sis, and half because I have a small favor to ask. But first, look at this.”
“What is it?”
Jin pulled a small glass vial filled with an unknown black liquid from his pocket. He popped the cap and downed it in one gulp.
“Ahh. The Deadly Poison Wine—you’re using it well. When you get a gift, you’re supposed to show it off like this.”
“Hahaha… Jin, you’re hilarious. That’s ‘Black Moss Poison,’ a rare toxin. Did your comrades get it for you?”
“Yes.”
“I think I’m going to have to kill someone. Feeding poison to my little brother.”
“I asked them to get it.”
“Quiet. Still, I don’t like it.”
Watching Yona’s eyes flash wildly, Jin shook his head. If she found out his comrades had poisoned him right after he woke up from the Deadly Poison Wine, she might actually kill someone.
“Hehe, but seeing the poison take effect like this makes me proud!”
After nearly two months apart, Yona was still unpredictable. But Jin no longer disliked that about her, nor did he pity her.
Yona wouldn’t want pity, no matter what had shaped her strange personality.
“So, what’s the favor?”
“I’m going to meet a sculptor named Bubar Gaston. If it’s okay, could you listen in on what he says? Whether he’s talking to himself or others.”
“Simple enough. Got it. But you owe me some fun afterward.”
“We might need to watch for a few days, if you have the time.”
The siblings chatted as they resumed walking. After a couple of hours, they spotted a standalone building with a sign that read, “Art Explodes.”
It was Bubar Gaston’s sculpture workshop, perched atop a low hill, glowing in the evening sunset.
Apparently, space inside was tight, because dozens of sculptures—large and small—were displayed outside. What was remarkable was the strange aura each piece radiated, even from a distance.
‘Incredible. Even someone clueless about sculpture like me can feel it. No wonder artists fall into despair.’
Getting closer, Jin was even more impressed. The sculptures of living beings seemed ready to move at any moment, and those depicting objects had a three-dimensionality that surpassed reality.
But Yona’s gaze was anything but admiring. Instead of awe, her eyes were sharp and cold, as if she saw something ominous and unpleasant.
“Sis?”
“These sculptures…”
“Are you alright?”
“Ah, yes. Just… a bit unsettled. These were made by someone like me. I can tell.”
“Like you? What do you mean?”
Jin wondered if it had something to do with the special power Yona possessed but didn’t ask.
“Interesting. Youngest, tell me how you found this place.”
After a moment’s thought, Jin shared the information he’d gotten from Mato Becker. Yona was as trustworthy as Luna.
“Hmm, so that’s what happened… A shapeshifter, you say? This sculptor? He even got into a fight with you at the main house’s banquet.”
“It’s not confirmed yet. That’s why I came—to see if I could find out more.”
“I’ll go dark now. You do your part. Don’t be surprised if you can’t sense me.”
Before Jin could respond, Yona vanished. Even with his keen perception fully open, he could barely detect her presence.
‘So this is how well she can erase her presence—hiding among the sculptures. But… her reaction is strange. She’s the same kind as Bubar?’
Clang, clang!
Jin gave the door’s bell a hard shake. Sculptors in Kurano usually worked in the basement, so a light knock often went unnoticed.
After a while, heavy footsteps echoed from inside—Bubar’s bulky frame stomping up the stairs, clearly irritated.
Bang!
“What the hell kind of…”
It was him.
Bubar stopped mid-sentence, staring daggers at Jin.
“Bubar Gaston, long time no see…”
“Eek! What do you think this place is, coming here like this!”
Without warning, Bubar pulled a handful of salt from his pocket and threw it.
To Bubar, most visitors to his workshop were “unlucky and filthy,” so he always kept salt ready.
From Bubar’s perspective, Jin was the absolute worst kind of visitor.
Swish! Whip!
Jin easily dodged every grain of salt without a single one touching him.
“That’s a bit much. I’m here as a guest today.”
“Guests, my foot! I don’t take guests like you!”
“Do you have to be like this? I’m practically your benefactor.”
“Be-benefactor? Be-be-benefactor!?”
“If the other brothers or the guardians had heard the nonsense you spouted at the banquet, you’d have been torn limb from limb. You wouldn’t have dreamed of making such beautiful sculptures since.”
“Shut up and die!”
Smack!
Bubar’s fist slammed into Jin’s philtrum.
“Hey, cut it out. Even if I’m a candidate for the rank, this is too much…”
Bam!
Two punches later, Jin felt something snap inside—threads of patience breaking in his mind.
‘Maybe beating this guy up is the best way to avoid unnecessary suspicion. But is he fearless or just slow to learn?’
Just as the third punch was about to land—
Bang!
Jin hammered Bubar’s head with a punch like a hammer strike.
“Ugh!”
Unlike the banquet fight, this was no show. Jin had grown remarkably since then, while Bubar was still a clumsy six-star.
As Bubar’s legs wobbled and he nearly collapsed, Jin grabbed his wrist and forced him upright.
From inside the workshop, another figure appeared.
“Bubar, what’s all this noise… Jin, Gongja?”
“Sir Bishkel…?”
Jin hadn’t expected Bishkel to be at “Art Explodes” today.
“Why are you here, Jin Gongja? Aren’t you supposed to be taking the candidate exam?”
“Well…”
“Sir Bishkel! This guy humiliated me at the banquet, then comes back causing a ruckus…! Please, kill him!”
Bishkel’s gaze fell on the salt scattered on the floor, then on Jin’s slightly swollen philtrum and forehead.
‘This disgusting fatso—no need to see more to know what happened.’
Bishkel swallowed his words and let out a low sigh.
“…Come inside first, Bubar. Apologize. Who said anything about killing?”
“Why should I?!”
“If you didn’t hit first, I’ll ask you to apologize to Jin Gongja. Anything to say?”
Secretly, Bishkel was cheering at Bubar’s bruised forehead. As always, but especially lately, Bubar was a major source of stress.
“Ugh. Still… I won’t apologize!”
“Fine, then I’ll apologize first. Sorry for hitting you, Bubar.”
Jin pushed Bubar aside with a smirk and stepped inside, shaking hands with Bishkel.
“So this composed, cold-hearted man is Kinzello, huh…? The Chilsakjo said Bubar outranked Vishkel, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”
Vishkel seemed completely unaware that Jonah was hiding nearby.
“Being an 8-star, Vishkel must have a keener insight than I do. I trust my sister will handle things smoothly.”
Vishkel shrugged after releasing his handshake.
“My apologies, Prince Jin.”
“No, I expected something like this when I came. I should have been more patient—I feel sorry for putting you in an awkward position, Sir Vishkel.”
“Not at all. But, may I ask what brings you here…?”
“I’m commissioning a bust of my father. Every sculptor in the workshop district recommended Bubar. I agonized over it until the very end before coming here.”
“I see.”
“I have some history with him, but since it’s a bust of my father… Seeing the sculptures displayed at the workshop entrance, I felt reassured I made the right choice. Bubar’s work is truly impressive.”
Vishkel’s eyes narrowed.
“Prince Jin.”
“Yes?”
“I know better than anyone how skilled Bubar is at sculpting. But that alone doesn’t explain why the youngest prince of Runkandel would show such deference.”
“Ah… Are you suggesting I have some ulterior motive?”
“Exactly. The prince I saw at the banquet wasn’t the type to swallow his pride over trivial matters. Besides, if you needed a bust of Sir Siron, you could have sent someone else.”
Jin nodded as if conceding defeat.
“You see right through me. Yes, I do have an ulterior motive. The person I truly wanted to meet wasn’t Bubar, but Sir Vishkel.”
Jin quietly fixed his burning gaze on Vishkel.