Chapter 14

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons — Episode 14

Fruit syrup really is easy to make.

“It’s a bit of a hassle to prepare, but you just mix the flesh and sugar half and half and let it sit, and that’s fruit syrup.”

With friendship and peace, love and affection, Gio brought out a cleanly sterilized glass jar.

It was so big it was closer to a crock than a jar, but Gio—who strongly resembled his grandmother, the village big spender—planned not to skimp on ingredients when cooking.

It had to be this size.

“Alright, let’s see.”

He washed the mangdung berries packed full and the drought tangerines with their sour-bitter scent clean in water.

The mangdung berries’ flesh was soft like pale jelly and very juicy, while the drought tangerines were like tangerines that still weren’t ripe—low in juice, with firm flesh.

Since the mangdung berries’ skin was so thin it would melt, he simply cut them into quarters without any separate process, and for the drought tangerines, he peeled off even the white, semi-translucent peel on the outside and laid out only the segments.

“And then...”

You just pour it in.

‘It’d be better if the juicy mangdung berries go on top.’

At the very bottom of the glass jar, he stacked one layer of drought tangerines, then sprinkled a little sugar over them.

Then he put the mangdung berries on top again and poured in plenty of sugar to form a layer.

If the sugar layer formed firmly, you just keep repeating it.

Gio pressed down hard so there wouldn’t be air pockets between the fruit flesh.

“It can’t spoil.”

The food in this forest didn’t spoil or mold, but even so, for the flesh to mix well and for the sugar water to seep in, a process like this was necessary.

Gio filled the glass crock without gaps.

“Done.”

All that was left was to seal it like this and store it in a cool shade for a few days.

“I want it to ripen quickly, but it’ll probably need some time.”

“Kung kung kung.”

“You can’t eat it yet.

If you take it out and eat it now, it’s just fruit coated in sugar.

Later, when the flesh gets even mushier and the fragrance seeps into the sugar water, then you can drink it as tea.”

“Kuk.”

“Cooking is sometimes an aesthetic of waiting.”

Honey grumbled and complained, but it couldn’t be helped.

Until the fruit syrup fully ripened, it would take some time.

“It won’t take that long.

The weather is warm here, so the sugar will melt quickly.

The juice will come out readily too.”

“Kung.”

“Don’t stick to the floor, you’ll get dust on you.

You’ll get dirty.

At this rate you’ll end up cleaning our whole floor.

You’ll go from honey-bird to dust-bird.”

Since he’d gone on an adventure for successful fruit syrup, it was late, and he was hungry too.

Rather than fruit syrup that might not ripen for who knows how long, it was time to seek a meal.

“Mm...”

Should I go really simple.

“Let’s do rice balls.”

“Kuk?”

“Can you eat rice too?”

“Ggurururururur.”

“Where does what you eat even get digested in that transparent body...”

As expected, Honey was brimming with the qualifications of a pig.

Gio, the father of this round pig-bird, nodded with pride.

“Ggururur!!”

“Yeah, alright.

Let’s go.”

The rice balls Gio would make this time were literally, truly, food.

Fresh-cooked rice, a little salt, a little sesame oil.

“Good thing I cooked rice ahead of time.”

There was even a hearth in the cabin, but there was no electric rice cooker.

In the first place, it was a world without electricity, so it couldn’t be helped.

Because of that, Gio had drawn a cauldron in advance and set it on the stove in the kitchen behind the cabin.

When he lifted the heavy iron lid, pure white steam rose in puffs.

“Nice.”

As he nodded, the steam that had been drifting around suddenly vanished without a trace.

“...?”

Then Honey, beside him, caught his eye.

“...”

He didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but for some reason it looked a little bigger.

“Ggururu.”

“...Don’t tell me you’re eating all the moisture rising from the rice right now?”

“Kung.”

“Your body smells like freshly cooked rice.

It’s extremely nutty, but if I sleep with you beside me, I’ll be too hungry to fall asleep.”

“Ggurung.”

“I’ve seen people steam their faces for skincare, but this is my first time seeing a guy who eats the steam itself...”

So this is what “Give it to your stomach, not your skin” means.

“Novel.”

The sweet fragrance unique to rurupu juice and the nutty smell of freshly cooked rice were together.

He couldn’t define what kind of scent it was at all.

Feeling oddly unsettled, Gio scooped the rice for now.

No matter how amazed you are, if you’re a living creature, you ought to eat.

“Let’s make porridge with the scorched rice stuck to the bottom.

It’s an incredibly easy-on-the-stomach food, so it’s good to pull out anytime.

I’ve never seen someone get indigestion from eating this.”

“Ggur.”

“First the rice balls, and later.

Scorched-rice porridge is really refreshing when you eat it first thing in the morning, half-asleep.”

Back in the kitchen, Gio sprinkled a little salt and sesame oil over the fluffy rice.

Since the cabin cupboard had all the basic ingredients, there was no need to worry over this and that.

‘What happens if I use it all.’

It would be fun if it refilled automatically like when he first checked the cabin, and even if it didn’t, it didn’t matter—he could just draw and make more anyway.

But it still didn’t seem like it was refilling yet.

Gio gently stirred the hot rice with chopsticks and adjusted the seasoning.

“Honestly, even just this is tasty.”

The smooth, nutty taste unique to freshly cooked rice, the rich sesame-oil aroma that softly wrapped over it, and a rice ball lightly seasoned with salt—if you eat it right after making it, your insides can’t help but get so warm.

“It’s a good meal for when you have to eat rice but don’t want to make something big.”

“Ggururur.”

“If you can eat it too, then eat.

I don’t really know how you eat, but... was the steam from the pot not enough earlier?

You look like you got bigger, but you’re not already full?”

“Ggurureuk.”

“Alright, then try it.”

Watching water eat rice.

‘It seems fun, so let’s leave it.’

With that quiet resolve, Gio made rice balls.

About 39 in total.

“...”

“...”

“Dad’s hungry.”

“Ggurureuk...”

“It’s because I’m hungry.”

Gio was a big eater.

“You have to eat a lot like this sometimes for your stomach to feel solid.”

But he didn’t stop there.

“I’m going to grill them once for texture.

Rice balls browned golden on both sides have good texture, and the nutty flavor gets even deeper.”

“Kung...”

“I’m not sure if it’s because the sesame-oil aroma gets stronger or because the grains get scorched... but it’s way tastier to grill them like this than to just eat plain rice balls.”

“Kukkkuung.”

“Yeah, just eating rice might get boring.”

Gio lamented the situation created by his own laziness.

I knew the day would come when I’d regret it like this.

“I should’ve made some side dishes in advance.

Then even if I only ate rice, I could’ve enjoyed a more varied meal.”

“Kkeuuung...”

“Making a stew with fish caught from the lake would be fine, and it’d be good to mix various things and ferment salted seafood too.

Having something like a meat soup would be nice, but here, eating meat is a bit...”

Even if he hunted land beasts instead of fish, he didn’t know the method, and it also felt uncomfortable with Gio’s tastes to eat the cute, round beasts.

In the first place, he didn’t even know how much meat such small, round bodies would yield.

“Should I ask Mr. Yoo Seongun about this too.”

“Ggurururur.”

“Along with the seeds, right?”

Gio set the well-shaped rice balls onto a pan heated enough over the brazier.

With a sizzle— came the rich sesame-oil aroma and the nutty smell of grains charring together.

‘Simple, but a good combination.’

After grilling all the rice balls, Gio sat at the table and took a bite.

“...”

As expected, it was good.

‘...Maybe because the rice came out nicely firm, and because I grilled it once, the texture and aroma are good too.

The salt seasoning is just right too, so it doesn’t get cloying.’

The rice used here was something Gio had drawn, so its state wasn’t exceptionally good or exceptionally bad.

So it was a little hard to rely on the power of ingredients, but even so, the rice balls were quite tasty.

“Maybe it’s because it’s a meal after labor.”

“Ggururururung.”

“...”

In Gio’s view, a bird shaped like a rice ball came into sight.

“Oh.”

No, that was Honey, having swallowed a rice ball.

“Heavens and gods.”

“Gguruk.”

“You swallowed it.”

“Ggurururuung.”

“Even though it’s bigger than your body.”

Three seconds later, Gio accepted it.

“Funny.”

“Kuk.”

“Since it’s come to this, do you want to just eat one more?

Can you get even bigger here.”

“Ggurureum.”

“Yeah, digestion probably isn’t done yet.

Of course.

It looks like it.”

“Ggur?”

“Yeah, Dad knows everything.”

And so a peaceful day passed.

* * *

“...”

Step...

Yoo Seongun, in front of the portrait, tilted his head.

“These days, you’re not opening your eyes again.”

From midnight until the current time—5 a.m.—he waited, but the portrait did not open its eyes even once.

Yoo Seongun, rubbing his chin with his fingers, muttered.

“It doesn’t seem like there’s a separate rule for this part.”

The portrait would choose the time when there were the fewest employees and open its eyes.

The time when they could converse changed day by day.

As long as he didn’t ask rude questions, it wouldn’t necessarily run away, but that didn’t mean it was always looking outside the painting, either.

It seemed he liked the world inside that portrait.

‘Personally, I think that’s the wiser choice.’

No matter how the inner world of the portrait was realized, it would be far better than watching modern society, dirty and complicatedly tangled.

At least, Yoo Seongun thought so.

“...If you think about it that way...”

Maybe ‘Gio’s portrait’ also seemed to like quiet.

“You could see this as one of the rules too.”

Leaning against the wall in front of the portrait, Yoo Seongun took out a notebook.

‘I should record it.’

His work is to observe unknown items or phenomena, analyze them, maintain them, and manage them.

And Yoo Seongun, with knowledge that vast, paying attention to this extent—this was almost the first time, with ‘Gio’s portrait.’

Fortunately, ‘Gio’s portrait’ was relatively favorable toward humans.

Answering when you asked questions, repaying goodwill with goodwill—those were things you could call quite gentlemanly.

“It’s getting roughly organized.”

Thanks to that, the analysis wasn’t that difficult.

Values manners

Enjoys giving gifts

No change in expression (is it because it’s a portrait?)

Knows humans well and respects them

‘...This part is definitely unusual.’

He still hadn’t grasped Gio’s identity, but he had to be careful.

There was a reason humanoid monsters, regardless of their attitude, were set as the highest-risk factors.

‘It’s because they knew almost nothing about humans.’

Eleven years ago, for the first time, a humanoid monster favorable to Earthlings was sighted.

Based on that, the associations of many nations sought a way to exchange with the residents beyond the dimensional gate.

But an envoy that crossed the gate for fellowship returned in the state of a ‘healthy deformity.’

‘That humanoid monster at the time expressed it as its goodwill...’

To a humanoid monster, the envoy’s body had many inefficient parts, so it increased their legs to four or split their mouth into six.

It was goodwill, but at the same time, it was a calamity to humans.

The phrase “There’s a reason a monster is a monster” was born then.

“Even thinking back on it, it’s terrifying.”

After that incident, humanoid monsters, too, became targets for subjugation without exception.

No matter how much goodwill they held toward humans, no one could know in what way, or when, they would reveal a dreadful true nature.

‘So I want to stay on guard against this portrait too, but... there are too many doubtful parts for that.

Gio knows humans too well to be a typical humanoid monster.

He doesn’t unconditionally hate Earth’s living beings either.’

He isn’t extremely favorable to humans, but he isn’t extremely hostile either.

A little cynical, and at the same time polite and full of consideration. ‘Gio’s portrait’ was like an ordinary human who was simply severely blunt.

“...”

Yoo Seongun pressed his pen against the notebook.

“That part is harder to understand.”

Gio didn’t look like a mere monster.

‘Anyone who isn’t a curator or a gardener would say, so what, isn’t it still a monster...’

Still, he had no certainty.

“Yeah, it really might be a monster.”

It might be a self-possessed item, or simply a cursed portrait, or else a hallucination of a level so high that they couldn’t even imagine it.

‘It’s only been about thirty years since dungeons appeared, so it’s not like we can know everything.’

So for now, Yoo Seongun’s best was to analyze this portrait and respond to it.

“Mm...”

There was one thing he was curious about.

The portrait’s eyes were distant as if they weren’t human, and its beauty—like it didn’t belong to this world—along with that pale yet stimulating coloration, gave a strange sense of unreality.

‘That AI-like, businesslike tone and unchanging expression must’ve added to that pressure too.’

But.

“No matter what, Gio is gentlemanly.”

As you could tell from the rules he’d organized, judging only by what Gio had done so far, he was never a threatening or violent counterpart.

As shown in the deep understanding he had toward humans, he was clearly considering and respecting humans.

‘Unlike the ignorant humanoid monsters so far, he thinks from humans’ standpoint.’

That meant he had a deep understanding you couldn’t see in other monsters.

‘And based on that, he expresses his goodwill and shows consideration.’

He even gave gifts, didn’t he?

“...”

After pondering for a moment, Yoo Seongun wrote a new sentence in the notebook.

Prefers good or well-mannered counterparts (a 1:1 rule?)

‘...Not certain, but.’

If you looked at the people Gio had given gifts to until now, they were all only people he owed, or people who treated him favorably.

Since he was a portrait that could distinguish human good and evil, Yoo Seongun wondered if he liked kind, well-mannered people.

‘Well, anyway.’

What mattered wasn’t this.

“...The problem is why the other employees freaked out and ran away like that...”

All the employees here were people Bisabeol had insisted on cultivating one by one, or luring into switching jobs.

Bisabeol’s collecting obsession showing not only toward objects but toward humans as well—and Bisabeol, who was strongly attached to his own employees, wouldn’t choose stupid or incompetent people.

So even if an employee was low-ranked, would Bisabeol have chosen casually, especially for employees who manage his beloved gallery?

They were all capable, resolute people.

“And yet, when they met Gio, they got scared and crushed by pressure.”

Yoo Seongun had never faced Gio directly.

The last time he came out, all Yoo Seongun did was chase after him and keep watch.

So what he felt from Gio when facing him head-on... he couldn’t know.

He could only vaguely guess.

“...”

That if he could pressure humans simply by existing, the level of his soul would be enormous.

‘...By that logic, should I be grateful he’s sleeping quietly inside the portrait.’

With a troubled face, Yoo Seongun let out a deep sigh.

“What on earth did that old man Bisabeol bring in...”

Is he finally planning to end the world.

It was a day that made him tempted, for the first time in five years, to smoke again.

Fantasy, modern,