chapter 132

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons - Episode 132

The ghost stories about the Black Cloak were famous, but Juhyeon wasn’t particularly interested.

‘There wasn’t any information I could access, either.’

The humanoid monster called the ‘Black Cloak,’ which had suddenly appeared recently, had its information and traces managed by high-ranking researchers.

There was no information Juhyeon could access, still barely only an assistant manager.

But at least, he knew well that it was a kind of portrait.

“...”

“What, have you lost your words because you’ve seen something too beautiful?”

“...Ah...

You’re... very confident.”

“Wouldn’t my confidence have to overflow, at least?”

“Th...”

It was so natural a conversation that it was absurd.

“...Are you the Black Cloak?”

It was too different from the image he knew.

“I heard the Black Cloak uses a stiffer way of speaking.”

“Then it’s not fun.

I know how to change to match the other person—that’s my talent.”

“I don’t really understand what kind of situation this is.”

“Surprisingly, you’re not dreaming, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like a hallucination.”

“...It doesn’t seem like a hallucination...”

His mind was still a little blank, but seeing his heart pounding after being startled, he could say that much.

“Why... why are you here?”

“Because it felt like someone was calling me.”

“At the very least, I’ve never called you...”

“Of course.”

The portrait, pulling its hood down so deep its face couldn’t be seen, pointed beneath the frame.

“You look like the type who’d draw better than this.”

“...Ah.”

Where he pointed, there was a crude drawing of the Black Cloak in black crayon.

“...”

For some reason, that drawing wavered unsteadily.

“...Did you come out of this drawing?”

“If I did, I’d have come out of that paper, you dull gentleman.”

“But isn’t it true that this drawing called you?”

“Thanks to that, I was able to find this location, and thanks to that, I met you.”

“Your way of speaking is really... all over the place.”

“It’s hard for me to stay still even for a moment.”

“It’s just that you feel too different from the Black Cloak I’d heard about...”

“Hm.”

His face was hidden in the hood’s shadow, but for some reason, he looked displeased.

“This kind of conversation isn’t fun.”

“...”

Only then did Juhyeon suddenly feel a sense of crisis.

“...I’m sorry.”

Whatever the other party’s identity was, there was nothing good about earning his hostility.

He didn’t even remember that just a moment ago he’d been agonizing over whether to make a wish to the wicked god Sankalut.

He was facing such an absurd situation that his head wasn’t working properly.

Juhyeon apologized first.

“If I offended you... uh...”

“Will you offer even a sacrifice to me?”

“I don’t even know who you are, offering a sacrifice first is a bit...?”

“Excellent.

Caution is a good virtue for a human to have in living.”

“But really, why are you here?”

“Didn’t I say it earlier too?”

“No one called you.”

“No one called me.”

A very brief silence flowed, and the portrait gently waved its hand.

“You called me, didn’t you?”

“...”

Unlike earlier, it was a gentle, low voice.

“So I came.”

“...”

“To call a wicked god.”

And once again, he became as blunt as a corpse.

“I’m looking for a friend to help me adapt.”

“...A friend...”

Is that ‘adapting’ perhaps about human society?

Wicked gods were, among gods, especially interested in humans.

It was truly an unexpected point, but if the ‘Black Cloak’ was a kind of such a wicked god, then this situation where he suddenly appeared and spoke to him was understandable to some extent.

‘No, I’m not going.’

Do wicked gods originally show up this out of nowhere?

“...I, I... was going to call another wicked god... sir?

That is...”

“Whatever existence you were going to call, there is no better choice than me.”

“Uh...”

It was an extremely arrogant thing to say, but rather than feeling repulsed, he felt fear and impatience.

‘His presence is growing.’

He understood that the other party’s tone was going back and forth.

Those vast, high-ranked mysteries often couldn’t match the human standard, so a lot of parts would look strange.

‘Maybe, like he said earlier, he’s in the middle of adapting.’

But the pressure he hadn’t felt at first gradually growing stronger was a dangerous sign.

‘Does his rank become more nakedly apparent the more he returns to that blunt tone?’

When his first tone had felt like it contained some cruel interest, it had been merely absurd, but when it became a solemn, weighty voice, and then now this mechanical tone, his rank felt even clearer.

“...”

“You seem confused.”

“...A little.”

“What can I help you with?”

“If you could... make your tone... a little lighter...?”

“Ah-ha.”

In an instant, his tone rose.

“Sounds like you prefer something less formal?”

“...Yes, this is more comfortable.”

At the same time, the pressure eased.

‘...Is his personality changing?’

For a moment, the thought came that he should report this new information about the ‘Black Cloak,’ but it soon faded.

It was funny that even while holding the sign of a wicked god, he couldn’t escape his usual habits.

Watching Juhyeon’s reaction, the portrait asked,

“Why were you calling a wicked god?”

“...That’s unexpected—if you’re a god, I thought you’d know without me saying.”

“That’s a violation of privacy.”

“...”

“And right now I’m human.”

“...Ah, yes.”

There was no persuasiveness coming from an existence that had popped out of a frame, but anyway, it seemed he was doing his best to match the human standard.

The proof was that up to now, there hadn’t been witnesses who saw the Black Cloak and had their brains burst and died.

If he hadn’t been considerate, just seeing him would have produced countless victims.

A god could become a calamity just by being seen.

“You asked why I was going to call a wicked god.”

Juhyeon muttered, then soon closed his mouth.

“...”

Well.

“...I don’t know.”

“You’re not talented at revenge.”

“You’re saying you don’t already know my circumstances?”

“I only came because I smelled anger.”

“That would be it, I’m sure it is...”

No way a wicked god wouldn’t know the circumstances of a mere human, so him joking about privacy violation seemed like a kind of disguise or consideration.

‘No, would a wicked god show consideration.’

Then maybe it was human imitation meant to appear as friendly as possible.

Most wicked gods were adept and crafty at digging into the human heart, so that level of imitation would be nothing.

Rather, his mind felt more at ease.

“I trusted people.”

“What people.”

“I trusted everyone.”

Juhyeon had been the one who was about to summon Sankalut without even having a wish.

He wanted to relieve an impulse he couldn’t understand, even by such a foolish method.

So even if now he played along with another wicked god, it wouldn’t be a big problem.

Rather, the Black Cloak his family talked about felt more familiar, so Juhyeon kept speaking.

“I trusted my family, trusted my friends, trusted my coworkers.”

“You’re the type with overflowing trust?”

“I think I tried to doubt in my own way... it’s embarrassing. In the end, it turned out like this.”

“What turned out like this?”

“Some of my people died because of my stupidity, some betrayed me, and the rest abandoned me.”

“That’s terribly sad.”

“I was so angry.

I’m so angry I want to ruin everything, but I don’t even know how to ruin it.”

“So you called a wicked god.”

“I thought if I called one without thinking, something might get better.

That I might be able to ruin something, so I tried using my hands.

I made it pretty well, too.”

No matter how easy it was to summon wicked gods, even accounting for that, making it this quickly meant he clearly had talent.

Juhyeon mocked and marveled at his own situation and talent.

“I wanted to do good things.”

He didn’t need honor.

“Just... something...”

“Right.”

“I wanted to make the world a better place.”

“You have a good heart.”

“...That should have been enough...”

He had chosen the path knowing it would be hard, but it was harder than he had imagined.

“Isn’t this too much?”

It was a complaint he could make to a wicked god.

“I know that having a good heart doesn’t mean you’ll only get good results.

I knew I couldn’t struggle alone, so I made lots of family, friends, and coworkers... but they all died, betrayed me, and left.”

“...”

“Look at this, it’s a sign that can summon Sankalut.

If you hold this, a wicked god can gaze at you more easily.

I’m using the knowledge I learned at the Association’s institute like this.

And I made it so well.

And then I tried to summon a wicked god even though I don’t even have a wish to make.”

Really.

“It’s the worst.”

The situation around him, and he himself.

“It can’t be any worse than this...”

“Do you feel refreshed after saying it?”

“...Black Cloak, are you a wicked god?”

“At one time, quite a lot of people called me that.

Not anymore.”

“But I heard you were witnessed in Korea only fairly recently.”

“That was before I came here.”

“I see, that could be.

That can happen.”

“...Your situation too.”

“...”

“What do you want?”

It was like the devil’s whisper demanding a wicked price.

Whether the Black Cloak really was a wicked god, or some similar something.

To begin with, whether he was a god or a monster.

It was truly a situation where he could know nothing at all, but...

There was no reason not to answer.

“...In hell, like a village where people die without value, where you lose precious people for no reason, where you have to live trembling in fear, powerless before unending disasters...”

A horrific karma made by humans and monsters and nature, indiscriminately destroying everyone without distinguishing their good and evil.

Making it so no one can be happy and no one can be at peace.

“I don’t want such tragedies to repeat.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t have the confidence to keep watching something like that anymore.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t want to see it.”

I tried really hard.

Cruelty mixed between humans and monsters keeps creating horrors the eyes can hardly bear.

“Can you grant my wish?”

The Black Cloak answered.

“?

No?”

“...”

Juhyeon wordlessly lifted his head to look at the Black Cloak.

“...Wasn’t this the timing where you propose a deal and say you’ll grant my wish?”

“Sorry, but I don’t casually interact with someone weak of mind and body.

A deal—that’s a dangerous thing to say.”

“Isn’t it beneficial to make deals with someone weak of mind and body?

And can a wicked god even say something like that?”

“More than anything, gods are more trivial and incompetent than you think.”

As if pathetic, the Black Cloak asked,

“Don’t tell me you were going to wish for world peace.”

“...I did think it wouldn’t work, but even so, aren’t you being too blunt?”

“Hey, sir.

I only came to find a friend to exchange letters with.

Sorry, but it would be best to give up the dream of world peace.”

“I’m not saying I wanted world peace, just that I wanted to contribute somehow...”

“In the end, isn’t that the same thing?”

“...I can’t say it isn’t.”

No, wait.

“...A friend to exchange letters with?

You mean a pen-pal friend?”

“Will you do it?

I can write in as pretty a handwriting as possible.”

“I don’t even know why you’d need something like that, but... if I do it, what’s good for me and what’s bad?”

“That you won’t starve in the future, and that if you’re unlucky you might become a pig?”

“I can’t tell which is the advantage and which is the disadvantage—it sounds the same to me.”

“You’re prickly.

What, you look like you’d have lots of friends—won’t you let me join too?”

“There are things you can join and things you can’t...”

More than that.

“...Earlier, when you asked if I wasn’t hungry, was that real?”

“I said it because you had the kind of face that looked like you might set off a nuclear bomb in this narrow country called Korea.”

“You even know what a nuclear bomb is?

No, but then why did you ask if I was hungry?

It doesn’t make sense.”

“Usually, guys who are about to cause trouble with no context do it because they’re hungry.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘usually’.”

“You could call it a malfunction in human operation that happens when the stomach isn’t full.”

“I think you learned humans wrong.

What does causing trouble have to do with having a full stomach...”

“So I’m asking.”

From inside the cloak’s shadow, it felt like the portrait was laughing.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“...”

He kept asking about whether he was hungry—it was a wicked god who was persistent about an odd point.

‘...What’s the intent.

Since he’s a wicked god, it can’t be seen as traditional godly mercy.

Surely, what he wants is...’

Juhyeon tried to think calmly.

“...”

He tried, but for someone who hadn’t eaten or slept for a long time, it was hard to expect his usual reason.

Half feeling swept along, and half bewitched by a sweet voice.

Juhyeon didn’t resist, and affirmed it.

“...I think I am hungry.”

A thought suddenly occurred. What would happen if you made a wish like world peace to a wicked god?

In unreality that couldn’t be distinguished from a dream, Juhyeon briefly had such a delusion with no meaning or value.

* * *

The Black Cloak held out his hand.

And Juhyeon was invited to a cabin.

Fantasy, Modern,