Chapter 10

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons — Episode 10

Because of Yoo Seongun’s rashness, the portrait closed its eyes, but Bisabeol, the owner of the painting, did not get angry at him.

“After all, it was a portrait that did not even answer when I spoke to it.

It didn’t even look at me.”

“...”

“The seventeen employees who said they had conversed with it so far could not endure the portrait’s pressure and ran away.

In that sense, we should say Mr. Yoo Seongun’s attempt has great meaning and results.”

“But...”

“It certainly can’t be called a good choice that you made Gio run away, but I scouted you because I was taken with that inquisitiveness of yours.

You don’t need to apologize for that.”

“I will be careful from now on.”

“That’s enough.”

Fortunately, Bisabeol was someone especially devoted to his own people.

A curator’s duty is to maintain and manage the works.

This kind of inquisitiveness that a researcher might have is not appropriate.

Even so, it was something to be thankful for, to have met a superior who would defend Yoo Seongun.

“Haa...”

But Yoo Seongun was still troubled.

‘Just because there’s no big problem doesn’t mean my mistake disappears.’

It had been quite a while since he was hired by Bisabeol and lived as a curator.

In the meantime, he had thought he had grown quite numb while appreciating and managing Bisabeol’s collection, but perhaps because nature is nature, his eyes had rolled back at the mystery of a dungeon he had seen in a long time.

Yoo Seongun went into his private workroom and bit into a candy.

A sugar boost was needed for an adult worn down by fatigue.

“...”

Yeah, that’s right.

‘Gio’s portrait is not an ordinary monster.’

That point stimulated Yoo Seongun’s curiosity.

“...It might simply be a mutation, but...”

A small mutter.

“...”

For quite a while, Yoo Seongun sat in his chair and stared at empty air.

Soon, he opened his mouth.

“...Should I contact the gardeners.”

Gardeners were a profession secretly operated by associations in each country.

In truth, it wasn’t to the extent of being ‘secretly operated.’

Since it was work anyone could do if it suited their aptitude.

Rather, it would be more accurate to say that because there were so few with that aptitude, it hadn’t been forcibly spread openly.

‘But since I came out while pretending to retire as a researcher, it’s awkward to contact them again.’

A kind of secret researcher and adventurer, gardeners were people close to the truth of dungeons.

That much, they knew various information unknown to the world, but with the knowledge of Yoo Seongun, a former gardener, he could not explain ‘Gio’s portrait.’

It was a kind of existence he had never seen in his life.

“...Well, it’ll work out somehow.”

Creeak...

Yoo Seongun, letting out a sigh, slumped down in his chair.

“There’s no need to rush, so let’s go slowly.”

No matter what humans do, the ‘Origin’ does not run away.

‘It’s too enormous for that.’

There was no reason to hastily dig into secrets, and he didn’t feel like doing so.

In the first place, it was exactly like that—acting rashly—that had made ‘Gio’ run away just a few days ago.

“Let’s reflect, reflect...”

Fortunately, ‘Gio’s’ avoidance was not very long.

A few days later, Yoo Seongun was able to see the portrait that had opened its eyes.

* * *

“...Uh...”

“Hello.”

“...Hello?”

Yoo Seongun smiled awkwardly.

“Good evening.”

“Yes, it is.”

The forest inside Gio’s portrait was an evening where stars sparkled.

“It happens to be evening for us as well.”

“Wasn’t it dawn?”

“Today I came a little early.

It isn’t even 12 yet.”

“It certainly seems earlier than usual. Is there a reason?”

“I came to check the other works I’m in charge of.”

Yoo Seongun shrugged.

“And then I saw that you, Gio, were awake.”

“I am always awake.”

“That is a surprising story.”

While bantering, Yoo Seongun asked in his characteristic even voice.

“What were you doing just now?”

His gaze was fixed on the brush in the portrait’s hand.

It was a very strange scene—an image holding a tool that could draw a picture.

‘If the guildmaster sees this, his eyes will roll back.’

Gio answered obediently.

“I was making birds.”

“Ah, you were drawing birds.”

“Yes.”

“May I see it as well?

If it would not be rude, that is.”

“If Mr. Yoo Seongun wants, I will show you.”

The man with the blunt face set down the brush in his hand, and then Yoo Seongun tapped at somewhere unseen.

When delicate fingers, with measured discipline, called something forth, an anomaly appeared.

He heard the sound of water sloshing, and soon a single bird appeared.

“...”

Yoo Seongun was surprised.

Of course, unlike the jewel before, it was clearly flat like something beyond the painting... but at the very least, he felt vitality on the level of Gio.

“...That bird is...”

“My new family.”

“Ah, I see.”

He wanted to answer as calmly as possible, but he wasn’t sure whether he managed.

To be honest, Yoo Seongun was a little excited.

“It’s a wonderful bird.”

The bird was very small.

If you compared it to species in Korea, would it be something like a long-tailed tit?

But its tail feathers were far longer than that, and its wings were hard to see, merged as one with its transparent body.

Perhaps they were fused together as-is.

It was made of very clean water.

It resembled holy water Yoo Seongun, as a gardener in the past, sometimes saw only in dungeons, or a remote spring where no life lived at all.

“Just now, Gio—did you make it?”

He felt as if he understood why he had said ‘make’ rather than ‘draw.’

That was definitely a living creature that moved.

“You were holding a brush.”

“I’m having fun, so I’m making several.”

“Several?”

“Right now, roughly... just under a hundred.”

“That’s impressive.”

It meant he had drawn those hundred one by one.

“It can’t be easy.”

“I have time to spare, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Ah...”

“And it’s fun, too.”

“...”

A personality that seeks interest, unexpectedly.

‘A point to keep in mind.’

Because Gio was so excessively polite and had such a stiff expression, it wasn’t easy to get a feel for it, but for a being that might be a monster or something, living an interest-driven life was something a human should be wary of.

After committing the information to memory, Yoo Seongun asked again.

“It seems like it’s made of water, but can that bird cry?”

“It has no vocal cords, but...”

Poruruk...!

Splash, splash!

“...Like this.”

“Ah-ha.”

When the bird shook its body like a wet puppy, a sloshing sound rang out.

It sounded like a small water bottle being shaken, or like a thin, viscous jelly being mixed this way and that.

Yoo Seongun chuckled softly.

“So that’s how it cries.”

The portrait added.

“It can also cry in another way.”

“But didn’t you say it has no vocal cords?”

“It is similar to before, but...”

Gio took out a small jewel from inside his suit.

“How is it.”

Flutter...!

Puuruk!

“It’s yours.”

The small bird snatched the green jewel from Gio’s hand.

With its tiny mouth, it seemed to bite and measure the jewel this way and that, then soon gulped it down.

“Ah.”

With the same blunt expression, Gio handed over a few more jewels.

“Now it will be able to cry.”

“How...”

Just then, a clattering sound was heard.

“...”

Yoo Seongun could soon understand how the bird cried.

‘...By moving or bumping the things it put inside its body...’

It looked like a fairy tale.

The jewels trapped inside the bird’s transparent body drifted around, and sometimes collided with each other and made sounds.

Even though they looked like dense jewels, the way they floated about inside that small body, glittering along with water that scattered light, was enchanting.

Gio spoke as if teaching a beast just born.

“That’s right.”

Clatter!

“You’re doing well.”

Click-clack, click-clack!

“...”

Then he blinked twice.

Even though the blunt expression hadn’t changed, perhaps it was just his imagination, but he looked tired.

“They are chatterboxes.”

“They look quite quiet.”

“If they had vocal cords, I can’t even imagine how noisy they would be.”

“That... is true, but.”

The bird, showing the quick movements unique to a small-bodied beast, scurried here and there atop Gio’s hand, flicking its tail feathers and struggling busily.

Then it spread its wings and fluttered as well.

‘The wings are bigger than I thought.’

Wings large enough to wrap the whole body were absorbed back into the torso and lost their shape.

‘That part really is like a slime.’

Even the way it tried to put something into its own body looked a little similar.

Though it seemed that creature was doing it not for hunting, but to decorate itself...

How would it react if it met an enemy.

“...Your painting is truly wonderful.”

Is this a portrait and also a painter?

With that thought, Yoo Seongun spoke, and Gio looked at him.

Those eyes, so black they even looked bright, held Yoo Seongun for a moment, then soon he opened his mouth.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t say something rude, did I?”

“It was praise perfectly suited for someone who draws.”

“Then that’s a relief.”

But a living painting...

‘Anyone would call that wonderful.’

As Yoo Seongun blankly stared at the bird, the portrait asked.

“Do you have another question?”

“Ah, a question...”

Could this also be one of ‘Gio’s portrait’s’ rules?

‘It seems like it gives an opportunity like this every time.’

Measuring the other’s patience and goodwill, Yoo Seongun answered.

“I always have questions.

So I do this time as well.

Because you showed me such a wonderful painting.”

“I see.”

“This bird is truly beautiful.

Do these fellows each have their own aesthetic sense?

Or do they act according to your taste, Gio?”

“...”

The portrait blinked twice and answered.

“I do not know much about these friends.”

“I see.”

“But they like to decorate themselves by putting something into their bodies.”

Perhaps because they had shared quite a lot of conversation by now, Gio continued without hesitation.

“Up to now, I have made roughly a hundred birds, but each of them preferred different objects.

This friend prefers jewels, some birds wanted flowers, and some sought twigs or stones.

Sometimes it was small fish or fruit from trees.”

Poruruk!

When the portrait waved its hand, the bird perched on it flew.

The sound of water was heard.

“They do not move according to my aesthetic sense.

Their own tastes are firm.

That may have been influenced by me a little... but at this point, it is not something I can force.”

“That’s just like a real bird.”

“This is a painting.

A painting drawn by the owner of the painting becomes real.

If I want, they can live and breathe.

They can.”

“...”

“Was that a sufficient answer?”

After a brief silence, Yoo Seongun opened his mouth.

“This bird does not look like a simple painting.

It seems alive.

Can they come outside as well, like you, Gio?”

“...I’m not sure.”

Gio did not give a clear answer.

He seemed as if he himself didn’t know what would happen, or as if he didn’t especially want to tell.

Yoo Seongun did not pay it much mind and moved on.

Only, he asked carefully.

“Here...”

“...”

“Is there a soul?”

Now, after 31 years since dungeons appeared, people acknowledged the existence of ‘souls.’

It was an unavoidable flow, because all sorts of skills that targeted souls had appeared.

Even so, among such skills, there was nothing that wasn’t rare.

“Did you create a bird with a soul, just now?”

“...I’m not sure.”

The same answer as before.

‘I can’t read his intent.’

The portrait was still blunt.

It was a face that didn’t look like the face of someone who had just created a life, and that made it feel even more alien and eerie.

‘Is it because he naturally does things that don’t look human at all, yet he has eyes, a nose, and a mouth all attached like a human, that it feels more grotesque.’

There was a discomfort on a different level from the monsters or similar things he’d seen so far.

The portrait answered evenly.

“I do not know either.”

“If even you, the owner, don’t know, then who would.”

“Perhaps no one will know.”

His voice was clear.

“I merely drew.

And I am a person who came into a painting.”

“...”

“I can decorate this painting, and a painting decorated that way becomes reality within this portrait.

Just as Mr. Yoo Seongun drew an apology for me last time...”

“...”

“Because it is a painting, in the end.”

It sounded like a play on words, but it wasn’t wrong, either.

‘A painting within a painting is indeed reality.’

After a moment, Yoo Seongun asked again.

“You created birds inside the painting.

You drew a jewel and gave it to me.

And you were able to deliver that to me.”

“That is correct.”

“Gio, you are clearly a painting, but at the same time a human, and you can affect reality.”

He asked.

“Then can you draw real life here?”

“...”

“Not simply the level of coming out of the painting and going back in like last time, but I mean whether you can draw a fate, a past, a memory.

Or else...”

“...”

“A real person, perhaps.”

Gio soon answered.

“It may be possible, or it may not be.”

“...”

“But I do not want to do that.”

“...Why?

Isn’t it lonely or boring inside the painting?”

“I do not feel loneliness here.”

His speech remained blunt.

“I am comfortable here.

This place, where the weather is always good, spring breezes blow, and the scent of the forest is full, is not troublesome or difficult in any way.”

“...”

“If the day comes when I am bored, I can simply create new friends like now.

That is enough.”

Yoo Seongun was a little surprised.

“You are satisfied with your peaceful painted world?”

The alien existences he had seen so far had always coveted things of reality.

Regardless of whether they had a self, like plant stems stretching toward sunlight, their actions were instinctive.

“Don’t you feel the desire to come out?”

“I am tired.”

“That... could be, but...”

“I do not want to go out.

Now, this place is my home.”

“...”

Just now, he definitely said, ‘now.’

‘...So there was a time when he did not live in this portrait.’

The portrait insisted he was human, and said there was a time when he did not remain in the portrait, but there was no guarantee that the place he remained was necessarily Earth.

‘It could be another dungeon or dimension.

No—if I think of Gio’s usual remarks and his level, rather, the probability on this side is higher.’

Regardless of Yoo Seongun’s thoughts, the portrait continued.

“I cannot create a lifeform that threatens me.”

“...A lifeform that threatens you?”

“Humans are always existences that can harm other existences.

The lifeforms I can create are only friends who are favorable to me.

That is the rule of this portrait.”

“...”

“I did not know well at first either, but after trying a few times, I came to know.

Because I am the owner of this portrait, I cannot create an existence that can erase me.

That is why I also cannot draw a human.”

The portrait murmured.

“A portrait without an owner cannot be established.”

Having said that, Gio looked at Yoo Seongun again.

“Creating humans is unsettling.”

“Why?”

“That is too special a thing.”

“If it is special, isn’t that good?”

“It is not good, because I am not that special.”

“...”

“My specialness is satisfied with being a talking portrait.”

It was certainly deep, to the point that it was hard to believe it was merely the thought of a portrait that simply had a self.

‘It’s certain it isn’t an ordinary monster or item.’

That was why it had an eerie side.

“...”

“Was this a sufficient answer?”

“Today, yes.”

Neither a monster,

nor an item.

If it is neither ghost nor human, then.

“See you next time.”

What on earth is this.

Fantasy, modern,