chapter 118

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons - Episode 118

The next day, the woman’s assigned senior asked.

“Did you look around the gallery well yesterday?”

“...Yes?”

“Your name was written in the roster.”

“Ah, yes.”

The woman nodded.

“Seems like you got hit with the initiation pretty hard, but you looked around and left fine.”

“Huh?

Initiation?”

The curator in charge tilted her head.

“What, you rode the elevator at 4:44?”

“...Yes, I’m sorry.

I should have properly memorized it...”

“Ahhh, I’m not scolding you, so don’t worry.”

Saying that, the curator in charge gave a small laugh and continued.

“I’m the curator assigned to the 1st floor, right?

I asked the people who were working overtime yesterday, and they said they didn’t pull you out.

And they said you didn’t even press the rescue request button.”

“Ah...”

“I didn’t hear that you were found breathing in the elevator in the morning, so I figured someone on a different floor must have let you out.

Which floor’s curator was it?

You should thank them.”

“...It was the 5th floor.

Thanks to that, I even got to look around the gallery that’s said to be the most dangerous.”

“...5th floor?”

“...Yes?

Yes.”

“...”

The curator in charge still wore that faint smile like a smiling merchant, but her reaction was strange.

As the woman waited nervously for an answer, the curator in charge said,

“But did you know?”

“W-what... what is it?”

“There weren’t any curators working overtime on the 5th floor yesterday.”

“...”

Goosebumps ran through her.

“...What?”

“Ah, joke, joke!”

A refreshing laugh.

The curator in charge burst out laughing.

“If you want to survive in this gallery, you need to be able to volley back jokes at this level.”

“...I-it was a joke... right?”

“No, honestly, there wasn’t a name in the entry log?”

“Then it’s not a joke...!”

“But in our guild, there’s someone who walks around without writing their name in the log.”

“...Ah...”

“Didn’t Yoo Seong-woon tell you yesterday?

He said he gave you a heads-up.”

At that, the woman nodded.

“I-I heard.

Mr. Seo Gio.”

“Yeah, Mr. Seo Gio.”

The curator in charge grinned.

“Wow, you’re lucky.

They say Mr. Seo Gio hasn’t been showing up much lately.”

“Ah... does he not come out often?

Is he not a curator?”

“He’s not a curator—think of him as our guild’s special force.”

“I heard it from Mr. Yoo Seong-woon too... but if so, does he not have a set job?”

“The most important duty of the Collectors guild members is being the guildmaster’s collectibles.”

“...Why are you suddenly saying that?”

“It means Mr. Seo Gio is already fulfilling his role as a collectible.”

“...B-but is that okay?

Isn’t he kind of freeloading...?”

“Actually.”

The curator deliberately lowered her voice and whispered.

“That person—there’s a story he’s a hidden S-rank hunter.”

“...S, S-rank?

One of the few in the country, that...?”

“He just lies and says he’s A-rank because he hates noisy attention.”

“Isn’t that illegal??”

“Ah, why worry about something like that.

This is the Collector’s.”

“Uh... uhh, no, um...”

“Our guildmaster can do this much for the guild members.

Doesn’t it make your loyalty swell up?”

The curator shrugged.

Pointing at the rabbit-shaped stuffed toy she was in charge of, she said,

“Now, now, please pat our Caretaker on the head.

It’s very fluffy and cute.”

“...Like this, is it okay to pat it?”

“That’s right, you did very well.

If you do that, at a very low probability, it gives you a fragment.”

“That’s the gift the works give, right?”

“Sometimes it’s a curse, but... the Caretaker is a gentle work so that won’t happen, and yes.

A gift.”

“What kind of gift does this doll give?”

“Ahem, calling the Caretaker a doll?

Please be careful with your words.”

“Ah, yes.

What kind of gift does the Caretaker give?”

“It gives flowers that smell good, or a sewing kit that can fix any clothes.”

“Ah...”

“Cute, right?”

“It’s cute.”

After the light instruction, the curator returned to the earlier topic.

“So that’s how it was—Mr. Seo Gio opened the door for our junior.

That’s surprising.”

“But we’re coworkers—why is that surprising...?”

“Coworkers are coworkers, but there are different kinds.

Mr. Seo Gio doesn’t really like being around lots of people, so he usually wanders around at dawn when there aren’t people.”

“For that, he was really kind.”

“...”

The curator asked back.

“He was kind?”

“Yes?

Ah, yes, yes.

He was extremely kind.”

“Mm... Mr. Gio is a very bright, handsome man, right?”

“Ah...”

The woman nodded.

“Now that I think about it, he really was—he was incredibly handsome.”

Something felt odd.

“I guess at dawn I was so startled and scared that I didn’t even think he was handsome.”

“Everyone who meets Mr. Seo Gio says that.

That they belatedly remember he was handsome.”

The curator’s eyes sparkled.

“Then how handsome is he?

I haven’t even seen his face, but they say he’s like a statue, blond hair and blue eyes.

So bright it feels like he’d smell like sunlight.”

“Even though you haven’t seen his face, you’re describing him in a lot of detail... that seems right.

His nose bridge was really high too, like he has some Western blood mixed in.

And his eyes were big.”

“Oooh...”

After letting out an impressed sound, the curator soon murmured low.

“So he’s in that state these days.”

“...?”

“Hmm, not bad.”

“...No matter how handsome he is, evaluating someone like that is...”

“Oh my, my, I’m not that rude a person.”

The curator giggled.

“I heard sometimes Mr. Gio gets gloomy.”

“...I can’t imagine it at all.”

“He’s someone with a heavy atmosphere, so there are a lot of people who say he’s scary.”

“Ah... definitely...”

He was someone who fit the all-white gallery very well, and yet made you feel something strange.

“...Maybe because he’s too handsome, it felt like he wasn’t a person of this world.

It felt distant.”

“Even though he comes at you very favorably, the reactions are like that?”

“I know he treated me kindly.

When I left, because I was tired, he even gave me chocolate so I wouldn’t stray down a different path.”

“Right, right.

That’s Mr. Gio.

He walks around with snacks stuffed in his pocket like a squirrel.”

“A squirrel...”

“You’re thinking it doesn’t suit him.”

After putting a pink bag into the fluffy stuffed toy’s hand, the curator continued asking.

“What did it feel like?”

“...”

“I mean Mr. Seo Gio.”

Her voice was calmer, the tone lowered a little compared to earlier.

At that, the woman recalled the man she had seen at dawn.

“...It’s a strange thing to say, but the first thought I had was that he was perfect.”

The moment he entered her eyes, it felt like the world filled up.

Like how it’s hard to belittle the sunlight pouring down on a spring day, like how you can’t pick at the cool summer waves.

It was like the sensation of blankly listening to a lullaby sung by a child’s mother, or an old superstition passed down in some village for generations.

If you wanted to find fault, you could; if you wanted to criticize, you could, but it didn’t feel like you wanted to.

A being you could call complete even if you tore its skin, even if it bled, even if it took any wound.

A being that made you think it was simply observing the flow of history.

A presence that, by itself, made you feel abundance and tightness—like that.

“It’d be kind of weird if I say I thought that the moment I met him, right?”

“...If it’s your first time seeing someone as high-rank as S-rank, I think that could happen.”

“I’m glad I’m not the weird one.”

With an awkward smile, she continued.

“His way of speaking was a little unusual too.

Should I say it’s old-fashioned, should I say there’s dignity flowing... honestly, he spoke so politely it was a little hard to handle.”

Seo Gio’s way of speaking had a slightly clipped feel somewhere.

“Like someone who ran a translator wrong?

It’s not that I thought it was strange, but because I was really scared, it felt a little frightening.”

“Well... he really could be a hunter from the West.

It’s certain he looks like he’s got thick Western blood, right?

Even we don’t know exactly where the guildmaster recruited him from.”

“Then maybe he’s still not used to Korean.

But it wasn’t really strange; rather, it suited him well... and that was a bit...”

It was scary.

“Maybe because he’s so handsome he doesn’t feel human.”

Some kind of incongruity lingered.

“Yes, well.

That’s how it was.”

“Anything else?”

“Just... that he was really favorable?”

But even there, she felt distance.

Something was odd.

“Favorable, but rather than being kind because of personal feelings...”

“What, what, did you want it to develop into a personal relationship?”

“No, that’s not, that’s not what I mean.

You know.”

“If favor isn’t personal feelings, then what is it?”

“...That’s true, huh?”

I realized even as I said it that it sounded strange.

“Ah, what I mean is, of course I didn’t mean he was hypocritical or that the favor he showed was a lie.

Really.”

“That’s not how I took it.”

“So what I was trying to say is... the favor Mr. Seo Gio shows is kind of like someone detached, um... it’s not a normal give-and-take... it’s...”

It’s a truly weird thing to say, but.

“It felt like favor he gives just because I’m human.”

Favor given unconditionally, simply because you were born human.

And so it felt like indifference...

“...No, it’s not that it felt bad.

I think it felt good, actually.

Maybe I was flustered because it was the first time in my life I met someone who casually showed favor with no compensation...”

Like I felt honored, like I’d received something huge without doing anything.

“Mr. Seo Gio is a first-grade citizen, right?

Ah, did I ask something too obvious?”

“I don’t know for sure either, but wouldn’t he be?”

“Somehow, you could feel dignity in his actions.

It didn’t feel Korean, but...”

There was an atmosphere you naturally came to admire.

“He was very relaxed, and yet there was weight to his words and actions.

It’s definitely not a friendly atmosphere, but you could tell he has good sociability.

There’s also a mysterious feeling, like a prince from a fairy tale.”

At that, the curator in charge smiled slyly.

“Whew, honey.

At this rate you’ll confess.”

“...You asked for my impressions...”

“Ah, I wasn’t hoping for that farrr.”

The curator flashed a cheerful smile.

“Anyway, I’m glad it seems like you’ll be able to do well.”

“Can I think there’s a chance I’ll get converted to full-time employee...”

“The gallery is so short on manpower that as long as you don’t cause a major accident, you’re basically guaranteed full-time.”

“That would be really great, but I’m worried because I have a lot of shortcomings.”

“What worry—someone who even talked fine in front of Mr. Seo Gio.”

“Ah... is it measured like that?”

“That guy has to be extremely chilling.”

The curator smiled with her eyes curved deeply.

“Do well, with the employees too...”

“...”

“And with the works too.”

It was a tone carrying a strange resonance.

‘...Ah.’

Suddenly, the woman recalled that Curator Yoo Seong-woon she saw yesterday had smiled the same way.

Those eyes that curve strangely, carrying an emotion you can’t tell whether it’s goodwill or malice.

“...”

Then she could realize that the curators here carried an atmosphere similar to the gallery.

“...I will work hard.”

She couldn’t be sure whether it was mysterious or grotesque.

* * *

“Honey.”

“Ggur.”

“Dad gained confidence.”

If there was one problem that came about from becoming a haunted portrait, it was resolution.

If he went outside beyond the frame while in portrait form, a resolution problem occurred, and people complained of feeling burdened recognizing him.

And now, fully synchronized with ‘Giovanni,’ who had solved that problem up to now—he went out to see if he could still wander around without a resolution problem...

“I had a conversation with an employee with no friction at all.”

So moved that he even gave away the chocolate he’d been saving like pocket money.

After giving it, he thought, ‘Huh?

Wouldn’t this make them realize the Black Cloak and I are the same person?’ but he quit worrying.

Gio, who had grown up drenched in the clear energy of the Gangwon mountain village, didn’t know how to think deeply.

“It’d be nice if I make a new friend like this.”

“Ggurur.”

“My own pen-pal friend...”

“...Kkuk.”

Honey didn’t nitpick, because he looked quite happy.

Fantasy, Modern,