I Became an Artist in a Romantic Comedy

Chapter 69: Siren (2)

What I could see was nothing but the vast ocean and the rocky surface I stood upon.

It was a place where the word “expansive” felt perfectly fitting.

I was, quite literally, a castaway in the middle of the ocean.

The wind howled, rain poured, and thunder roared, but for some reason, this rock alone remained tranquil.

“Long time no see, Siren.”

There was no reply to my words. Of course, there couldn’t be—after all, I was the only one on this rock.

The jagged surface of the rock looked as though it might barely fit two or three people at most.

Yet here I stood, without a single piece of protective gear.

Not because I’d lost my senses or anything—just that I judged it wasn’t dangerous.

“Could you at least show me your face? Hmm?”

Even to this question, there was no answer.

The only things I could hear were the sharp whistle of the storm and the thunderous crashes in the distance.

But then—

Blub, blub, blub.

From just in front of the rock, bubbles began to rise, growing in number.

Splash!

A single figure emerged.

“…It’s been a while, Sanya.”

The figure of a mermaid—a creature straight out of a fairytale—gazed directly at me.

Her stunningly beautiful form was undeniable, but her tail fin unmistakably marked her as something other than human.

“Yeah, it has been a while,” I replied.

She smiled faintly at my response and sat down beside me. Though the rock was slick with seawater, it wasn’t slippery.

The Siren stared at me quietly for a moment before climbing onto the rock herself.

Without speaking, we both simply stared out at the sky and sea.

“You didn’t forget, did you?”

“I was trying to.”

The dull slap of waves against the rock broke the silence—a muted sound, yet sharp enough to express the Siren’s disapproval.

Her face betrayed no emotion. The lively atmosphere she used to carry in the past was gone.

“I already died and reincarnated. I have no connection to you anymore.”

“Yes, I know. Woo-hwa told me herself.”

“My mentor?”

“You didn’t know? I thought you’d already met her out there.”

The Siren gave a faint smile and gently stroked my hair.

Her damp hand was cold, but not unpleasantly so.

After all, the Siren was a part of me.

Not anymore, though. I had only come here because of the connection we once shared.

“Do you know where my mentor is now?”

“Who knows? Time doesn’t really exist here.”

“Right. That’s true.”

The Siren shrugged and fell back onto the rock with a wet thud.

“That’s gotta hurt,” I thought to myself.

Still, she stretched out her body and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Ahhh… Sanya.”

“Yeah? What?”

Her gaze sent a shiver down my spine.

“You look happy.”

“…I suppose so. My new life is… very good.”

“Meanwhile, some of us can’t even sleep because of the endless thunder.”

“That’s… um… sorry.”

The Siren went silent for a moment before sighing deeply and sitting up again.

“I don’t mean to begrudge you. Maybe a little, but not entirely. We—we know you, Sanya.”

I felt the weight of her body as she leaned against my shoulder.

“Singing has become so hard… and smiling even more so.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Heh, it’s fine. Honestly, we’re happy. It seems like you’re living a happy life this time around.”

“Thanks for that.”

With a small smile, the Siren leapt into the sea.

The splash sent water flying in all directions, but oddly enough, my clothes remained dry.

This was the world of illusions, after all. Everything here was meaningless—a place that could never exist in reality.

If masterpieces show you visions, then great works show you worlds.

The true world of a painting.

The Siren swam around the rock with ease, seeming to enjoy herself.

She didn’t swim like a human would; her tail fin gave her natural speed and elegance.

It looked like a life of freedom, unbound by anything. But in truth, she was merely adrift in a world where nothing existed.

The only thing here was nature, bent on killing her.

“Haah! The water feels great!”

“You’re always in the ocean, though.”

“You wouldn’t understand, Sanya. There’s a difference between humans and mermaids.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her amused expression.

“But still, I’ll miss it. Before you came, I wasn’t lonely—there was a chatty woman around.”

At those words, my laughter froze for a moment.

—‘My daughter-in-law loved [Siren] so much.’

So that’s how it was. The previous owner must have spent time with the Siren here.

For a brief moment, I lingered in the Siren’s wistful tone.

Seventeen years have passed since I was born. During that time, the great works must have spent their days alone.

Or perhaps they visited one another’s illusionary worlds. That seemed likely, too.

I wondered if they resented me for coming so late.

“I have so many questions, Siren.”

“I know. I’ve been waiting for them.”

The Siren was a painting modeled after the demon of jealousy.

Her existence was consumed entirely by envy, and even nature seemed to reciprocate that sentiment.

And she was… my former self.

“First, about Woo-hwa. She’s the one who moved all of you, right?”

“Yes. Woo-hwa moved all seven of us. Separately, even.”

One question was answered. Now, the second.

“Did she say anything specific to you?”

“As far as I remember? No, not really.”

The Siren chewed on a strand of seaweed she’d found somewhere.

“Hmm. So does [Angel] have anything to do with my reincarnation?”

“…Yes. But I don’t know the details. Woo-hwa would know.”

The Siren hesitated briefly before nodding in affirmation.

“So, I really have to find my mentor…”

What a headache. Was that woman even still alive?

“How did my mentor end up in this world, anyway?”

“I wouldn’t know that. But I do know this—Sanya came here after you died.”

That damned old woman. Always managing to give me a headache.

“Haah. Well, fine. I’ll run into her eventually.”

I asked many more questions after that.

The Siren, once vibrant in my past life, was gone. In her place was a mermaid who looked worn out, like someone utterly drained by work.

She looked as if she might wander off to a smoking area at any moment.

Feeling an odd pang of guilt, I decided to change the subject.

“What about the others? What have they been up to?”

“It’s been over three years since I last saw them. They’re probably doing their own thing.”

The Siren turned her body indifferently and dove back into the sea.

“But you’re the eldest daughter…”

“What does that matter? They don’t listen to a word I say anyway.”

She scoffed, and her expression made it clear she’d had her fair share of struggles with them.

As guilt turned to pity within me, the Siren suddenly called out.

“Sanya.”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful of [Angel]… the youngest. Woo-hwa must have done something.”

“…I know. That’s why I need to find her.”

The storm seemed to echo the Siren’s emotions, growing fiercer with every word.

“And honestly… I hope we don’t meet again unless necessary.”

Her casual tone caught me off guard.

I turned to look at her, confused, only to find her gazing at me intently, her expression shifting into a familiar smile.

A smile just like the one worn by the mermaid in the [Siren] painting outside.

“Forget these lingering feelings already, Sanya. Live properly.”

“I am living properly. And you all are—”

“Who’s the one who said we’re not connected anymore?”

“…Why?”

“Heh. Don’t you already know better than anyone? Your body can’t handle it.”

The Siren covered her mouth, suppressing a laugh.

This body, really…

Lee Ha-eun’s body was far too frail—unable to withstand the presence of a masterpiece.

“Even now, Sanya, your real body is under considerable strain. So let’s say goodbye here.”

“But we just met.”

At my protest, the Siren gave a sad smile and shook her head.

“I’m just worried about you, Sanya. What if you die again like this?”

“Haah. I’ll come back. It’s a promise without a timeline, but still.”

The Siren’s eyes widened momentarily before her expression changed once more.

She looked radiant—bright and shining, as though she were basking in sunlight.

Her smile was vibrant, filled with life.

“Ahh… I feel like singing for the first time in ages.”

“Hmm. Oh, right. Hey, before you go, can I ask you for one thing?”

“Hmm? What is it? If it’s within my power, sure.”

“I’ve got a friend who’s an idol. Could you help them out later?”

“For a song? As much as they need.”

The Siren propped her arms on the rock and looked up at me.

“Thanks. I’ll bring them along next time.”

“Heh. So it’s a promise, then.”

Her gentle smile made me smile back.

“And this life… My name is Lee Ha-eun now. Sanya doesn’t exist anymore.”

Come to think of it, I really picked the wrong pen name. Black Mountain—what kind of inspiration led me to that?

“…Alright. I’ll just call you Eun—it’s easier that way.”

“Suit yourself. Oh, one more thing.”

“What now? If you overdo it, your body’s going to give out, Eun.”

“It’s fine. I’m not going to die. And if you don’t mind, I was thinking about changing this place a bit.”

The Siren tilted her head in disbelief, as if I’d just said something ridiculous.

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. It can be done, but I’d need permission first.”

From the Siren and the old mentor.

“Don’t you think it’s time you all lived a little easier?”

With a slight smile, I extended my hand to the Siren.

Leaning against the rock, she naturally took my hand.

“You don’t have to be consumed by jealousy anymore, Siren.”

“…You’d better keep your word, Lee Ha-eun.”

The last thing I saw was the Siren narrowing her eyes before my vision turned to black.

“Ugh, my head’s killing me.”

One hand gripped my head while the other clutched at my chest.

My heart was pounding furiously, and the headache was no joke.

“If I were just a little healthier, this wouldn’t happen.”

I sat down near the Siren’s painting to catch my breath.

Behind me was a single grave.

The resting place of the woman the Siren had called a chatterbox.

[Lee A-reum]

…Another Lee. Great.

I knew Kim, Lee, and Park were the most common surnames in Korea, but this was ridiculous.

Though for some reason, the name felt familiar.

Lee A-reum… Lee A-reum… Lee A-reum?

A thought crossed my mind, and I blinked in surprise.

“…No way. That’s absurd.”

I chuckled and pushed the idea out of my head.

Raising my gaze, I looked at the Siren painting.

Choi Yeseo, just wait a little longer. I’ll give you a free singing lesson.

I had just secured myself a new apprentice.