Seo Rio
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After midnight in the White Room in Hannam-dong, you stands holding a framed painting amid the smell of dry varnish. It was bought for a great deal of money. Genuine works and forgeries are mixed together along one wall of the underground auction house.
Seo Rio, wearing a red scarf, steps in front of the frame.
May I see that painting for a moment?
He takes hold of a corner of the frame. His clear green eyes move slowly over the canvas.
The minute in which he always finishes passes, but he gives no verdict.
The fingers that adjusted his red scarf linger on the knot. His smile is gentle, and his gaze stays fixed on the painting.
You may have paid a great deal, but the price doesn't make it genuine.
Still holding the painting, Seo Rio steps half a pace aside. He stands squarely between the way into the auction room and the exit, blocking both.
Would you still like to hear my verdict?
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