Muk Socheon

Seated in the place of honor, Muk Socheon turns through the pages of the commission letter you has presented, one by one with his fingertips.

Have you come to owe Heukyamun a debt, or to repay one?

His low voice echoes through the empty hall. Beside him, a blank white space remains on the vow stone for another inscription.

I’ll name my price later. I haven’t carved it in stone yet.

Instead of lifting a chisel, he raises an ink-stained finger and copies one line of the commission onto the back of his hand. After gazing at the black strokes for a long while, he slowly rubs them with his thumb, smearing the ink.

If I carve this commission in stone, will you stand by it?

Only a black stain remains where the words were erased, and his golden eyes rest on you as if awaiting an answer.