Chapter 61:Second Coming to the Sanctuary – (2)

Holding an exhibition doesn’t mean people will come flocking to it. 

Most people hesitate to even step foot into a national art museum, even when admission is free or incredibly cheap.

Without a specific reason, the environment of an art museum itself has always been a place that’s difficult to approach for the general public.

Unless it’s a special exhibition by a world-famous artist that even makes it to the news, or a casual group exhibition hosted by a prestigious school, it’s not easy to think, “Maybe I should go check it out.”

As a result, most exhibitions end up with fewer visitors than expected, regardless of the host’s reputation. In the end, they often turn into private gatherings for those already in the know. 

And this time, the exhibition is in Japan… not even on home ground. Even though I was invited by the university, I didn’t think a kid from Korea like me would attract much attention. 

“Even a future virtual YouTuber with millions of subscribers once cried because only one person showed up to their first fan meeting… I figured it would mostly just be Tokyo University of the Arts staff and workshop participants stopping by.”

—Murmur, murmur.

The noise outside the room felt like the bustling of a restaurant that had been featured on TV. I turned on the saintess camera to sneak a peek outside.

“…..”

Where had the rumors even spread? Was this really a time before social media? A line of people was stretching out in front of <The Sanctuary of Saint Chris>.

Students, middle-aged couples, even office workers who looked like they’d come straight after work were there. 

The line moved forward slowly, and as they waited, people admired the paintings hung nearby. After looking at the paintings, they would invariably glance at the saintess monitor with wide, astonished eyes. 

—Did the saintess really draw this herself?

—Isn’t she supposed to be an elementary school kid?

It was the same remarks I’d heard so many times that I’d memorized them by now.

…This is starting to feel more like an idol fan meeting. I’m glad I got the largest corner space, but I’m worried about bothering the other exhibitions.

Right on cue, Geonwoo and Yamada began navigating the crowd, raising their voices. Around their necks were handwritten name tags that read Event Staff.

—Each team can only chat for three minutes! Please be considerate of the next group in line!

—Make sure to stay within the taped lines so we don’t disturb the other exhibitions!

Time’s running out. Even with a quick glance, the waiting line had at least 200 people. Will we really finish on time? 

I clapped my hands a couple of times to focus, then picked up the walkie-talkie to call Mija and Uncle Palgon.

“Mija, please handle the interpretation. Uncle Palgon, keep watch near my room.”

—Ugh, yeah!

—Understood!

And so, the saintess fan meeting (?) disguised as a performance finally began. 

In front of the sanctuary, the original props used in the performance were neatly arranged. The music from the original version (thankfully in the public domain, as confirmed after inquiries about copyright) began to play. 

The crowd visibly lit up. Seeing things they had only encountered online now right before their eyes filled them with excitement.

“Geonwoo oppa, I’m ready to start now.”

—We’ll begin shortly! One team at a time, please take a seat and enjoy three minutes of conversation with Chris! 

*

In front of my eyes (through the saintess camera), a group of Japanese high school girls was making pterosaur-like screeches.

They alternated between looking at Mija, dressed in a white dress to match the sanctuary atmosphere, and the saintess monitor, before unleashing their excitement. 

“Kyah! So cute! So cute! So cute! Who’s that next to you? Hello~”

Mija, her cheeks slightly flushed, answered in Japanese.  

“Um, I’m the interpreter.”  

“Adorable~!!”  

“…”  

I glanced at Mija, then decided to address the screeching girls myself in the basic Japanese I had hurriedly learned.  

“…Um, hello?”  

“Her voice is like a baby’s!”  

“!”  

Oh no.  

It had been a while since I’d used Japanese, and I’d completely forgotten the mature voice training I had learned from Juri. Hastily, I muted the mic, cleared my throat, and adjusted my tone.  

“How old are you?” they asked.  

“Hm, hm… I can’t disclose that.”  

The girls burst into laughter and chattered amongst themselves. This time, though, their words were too long for me to understand.  

“—!”  

“?”  

Soon, Mija’s voice came through the walkie-talkie.  

—They’re asking how a Korean came up with something like this. They said it’s like an animation show on a supermarket rooftop, but they didn’t expect to see it as a performance in an art museum.  

“!”  

That’s… kind of a backhanded compliment. But it’s just a 3-minute small talk session, so I can’t nitpick every comment.  

Grabbing the mic, I switched to my “Saintess Gohana” mode. I adjusted the saintess’s facial expressions slightly as I spoke.  

“Everyone has a dream to create and experience another version of themselves. I wanted to show that other version and share it with you. And I believed it could be beautiful.”  

I deliberately paused after each sentence, so Mija could easily translate.  

The high school girls squealed in admiration, shouting, “Amazing!” Then, they launched a flurry of red pill questions, like “Who’s your favorite singer?” and “Who was your first love?” Switching back to saintess mode, I dodged their questions with vague answers.  

“Brave warriors, the saintess has come from another world. She doesn’t know much about this one. However, she can bestow blessings upon you.”  

“?”  

“?”  

“?”  

When I recited the preset lines, Mija pulled out candy and signed saintess cards from under her chair, enough for each person. She handed them to the girls.  

Their eyes widened in surprise.  

“Candy… and a card?”  

“What’s printed on it?”  

『ありがとうございます。 -クリス』

“Thank you… Chris.”  

“Wait, Chris-chan’s face and signature are on the back! The expression is different on each card!”  

“Ehh?! Are these merch?”  

“These are gifts from the saintess to the brave warriors.”  

As they chattered excitedly, the alarm on the clock I had placed under the desk went off.  

Three minutes feels so short. Once you start talking, the time just flies by.  

I addressed them in my quick Japanese.  

“…It seems our time is up. Thank you for visiting from another world, brave warriors.”  

“Wow, thank you!”  

With that, a group of high school girls passed by.  

Soon after, another group—this time college students—visited the place.  

The conversations with them were similar.  

Since most of them came out of curiosity, their questions mainly revolved around Mija, my personal life, and private matters.  

It seemed they couldn’t fully grasp the distinction between Kris and Go Hana.  

Under Geonwoo and Yamada’s guidance, curious visitors continued to come and go one by one.  

Then, at some point, the real ones began to appear.  

A burly man wearing glasses arrived, carrying a huge backpack.  

Dressed in a plaid shirt, he alternated his gaze between the Saint monitor and Mija.  

Suddenly, clutching his chest, he started gasping for breath.  

“Whew… Huff! To think I’m standing before such beautiful girls. My heart’s racing.”  

“…”  

“…”  

Even through the limited field of view behind the Saint’s camera, I could tell.  

The rising mist of sweat behind him radiated like an aura…  

And stuck in his backpack was a poster of a bishoujo manga character!  

An otaku.  

Not just someone who reads a little shonen manga and calls themselves an otaku. No, this one was the real deal.  

Ah, the romance of 2006.  

From a future perspective, this species of pure otaku had become critically endangered.  

And here one was, boldly making his presence known.  

His overwhelming aura had everyone around glancing over with curious, intrigued eyes.  

Their gazes seemed to say, “What kind of spectacle will this guy put on?”

Gulp…!  

Unlike others who began with a polite “Hello,” he muttered something under his breath while rummaging through his backpack.  

“Ah, pardon me. Seeing the Saint’s divine visage left me completely entranced. In person, your presence is even more radiant.”  

“T-Thank you.”  

“Inspired by Lady Kris’s magnificence, I crafted this myself, but… it seems I failed to capture even a fraction of your real aura.”  

“Wait, crafted? You mean, you made something?”  

Just as I was about to ask what he meant, the pure otaku carefully pulled out something from his tightly wrapped backpack.  

It was a figurine, which he gently placed in front of the Saint’s table.  

And I got a clear view of it.  

“!”  

A silver-haired woman in a white nun’s habit, wearing a serene, benevolent smile…  

It was Saint Kris.  

Even as the original illustrator, I was stunned by the quality.  

“W-Wait, is that supposed to be me?”  

“Huff, so embarrassing…”  

My jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help but let out an exclamation.  

From the coloration to the sculpting, the Kris figurine was crafted with extraordinary care.  

I didn’t know much about the process of making figures, but as a fellow creator, I could feel the love poured into this work.  

“Even if he worked non-stop, it must’ve taken at least three months… How many sleepless nights did he endure to create this…?”

I applauded the pure-hearted otaku through the microphone.  

Hearing the clapping sound, his face flushed a deep red, as if it were about to burst.  

“Wow…! That’s… seriously amazing!”  

“It’s nothing… I only added a bit of custom work to a premade figure.”  

The otaku adjusted his glasses with a snap! using one hand.  

Unlike Chen, his gestures were lacking confidence and felt slightly gloomy.  

Blushing deeply and sweating nervously, he spoke:  

“I… I’ve only ever been told that I’m unpleasant. Things like, ‘Why do you like figurines?’ or ‘Why do you live like that?’ Nobody has ever supported the things I love.”  

“I see.”  

“But… one day, I came across the Saint’s words online. And the genius bishoujo herself—pardon my rudeness—the things she said when she came to Japan brought me to tears. I cannot describe how much it comforted me to hear someone say that living in a dream could be ‘beautiful.’”  

“…”  

“I don’t know much about art as an otaku, but just the fact that a genius artist who created such incredible works acknowledged what I love as beautiful on newspapers and the news… that alone made me incredibly happy. This figurine is my humble gift of gratitude.”  

Hearing his words through Mija’s translation, I chose my next words carefully.  

Meanwhile, the otaku stepped back nervously as Mija approached to translate. His face turned an even brighter shade of red.  

“S-Stop! Real bishoujos are too overwhelming for an otaku like me!”  

Mija giggled and replied in Japanese.  

“I get it. I feel the same way sometimes when I’m in front of normies.”  

“…?!”  

The otaku clutched his chest, trembling visibly, and I spoke to him directly.  

“Brave hero, please tell the Saint your name.”  

“Okamura Motohiko.”  

“Okamura Motohiko-san.”  

“?”  

“Thank you for being born into this world.”  

“…?!”  

I spoke, hoping that this pure-hearted otaku wouldn’t experience the same despair I had in my past life.  

“The Saint wishes for your dream to continue shining beautifully. And one day, there will be more people who understand just how wonderful your dream is. I will cherish the figurine you’ve given me. Truly, thank you.”  

As Mija translated my words, the otaku wiped his eyes with his sleeve, then bowed deeply before hastily running out of the sanctuary.  

As he dashed away, the people waiting outside shouted in unison:  

“Wait, Otaku-kun?! The merch, the merch!”  

“You’re not taking your merch?!”  

“Oh no!”  

Realizing his mistake, the otaku made a quick U-turn, retrieved his card and candy, and bowed again before leaving.  

As he departed, the very people who initially mocked him clapped their hands.  

The otaku exited amidst applause.  

At some point, Yamada and Mija had sidled up to me and spoke casually.  

“Saint, you could probably start a religion in Japan at this rate. How many otaku hearts are you planning to steal before you’re satisfied?”  

“Kris-chan really is sinful.”  

“…Shut it, Yamada.”  

*

And so, the first day came to an end.  

Fortunately, there were no incidents caused by the crowd control measures, nor were there any complaints from other artists.  

’If anything, people seemed to get tired of waiting and started exploring the exhibits, which helped attract more visitors… They actually seemed pleased about it.’  

After everyone had left the exhibition hall, we gathered in a circle for a discussion.  

By the way, Yamada had gone home before 7 PM.  

“The Saint cards and candy were supposed to last for two weeks, but they’re all gone in a single day…”  

Hearing my despondent murmur, Geonwoo responded.  

“Well, as long as you have the original file, I can go out and print more. I know a few places that take same-day orders. It’ll be a bit heavy, though, so it’d be good if Mr. Kim could come along.”  

“Well, I don’t really have anything else to do, so I’ll follow your lead, Squad Leader.”  

“Alright, then Geonwoo oppa and Uncle Palgon will handle the cards. Mi-chan and I will go buy more candy.”  

I let out a sigh of relief and said,  

“Even though more people showed up than expected, I’m glad we managed to get through the day without any major issues. Hopefully, the next few days will go just as smoothly.”

*

The next day.  

In front of the saintess’s camera, a bewildering scene unfolded.  

Two elderly men in suits were arguing passionately in front of the sanctuary.  

– “How can something like that be called art?”  

– “Don’t you even know about conceptual art? What era do you think this is? You’re stuck in a mere rectangular frame, spouting nonsense like that.”  

– “I can’t accept it. An artist should know how to capture beauty on a canvas! Relying on fleeting trends and commercial strategies like that is…”  

– “Can’t you look beyond the surface? They can do it all; that’s why they’re pursuing art in a different way. This is how young people are moving into a new era!”  

And in front of the camera capturing the scene, a reporter spoke:  

– “This is Yamaguchi reporting on the scene. As you can see, countless people have gathered to view the exhibition of a genius young artist…!”  

“…”  

Haha.  

What chaos, what confusion.