Chapter 16

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons — Episode 16

An exclamation that popped out as he pressed down his admiration hard, as if pretending to be dignified.

Bisabeol asked.

“So you haven’t been coming out because you thought people would be scared?”

“I didn’t say it quite that far, but in summary, it isn’t wrong either.”

Yoo Seongun nodded.

“He seemed to know at least that if a being with a high soul rank like himself faces an unguarded person, problems can occur.

Though I do wonder what kind of trick it is that he insists he’s an ordinary human even so...”

At that, Bisabeol narrowed his eyes like a snake and said,

“We can’t rule out the possibility that he truly is a humanoid monster in the form of a portrait, but still, we can’t see him as a simple monster either.

He doesn’t hate humans at all.”

“...”

“If he’s an existence that even Curator Yoo Seongun can’t be sure about yet, he’s likely connected to the Origin, but since you still haven’t made a formal report, I suppose he’s a kind of existence you’ve never seen in your life.”

“Yes, for now.”

It was rare for Yoo Seongun, a gardener, not to know an Origin-related existence.

‘Dungeon monsters are also beings born from the Origin’s current, but in terms of how troublesome they are, they’re on an entirely different level from the children of the Origin.

If Gio is a kind of child of the Origin I’ve never seen before in my life, the story becomes far more complicated.’

So-called “children of the Origin” could be found identically in any dungeon.

They cannot be resolved through simple subjugation like ordinary monsters.

That is why vast knowledge and response capability regarding them was necessary, and Yoo Seongun was a veteran who had worked as a gardener since he was eleven.

“Gio’s portrait,” an existence Yoo Seongun did not know, was an obvious target of vigilance.

“Anyway, even if we assume it’s a ‘child of the Origin,’ it’s certainly an unusual existence.”

If there was a common point between monsters and children of the Origin, it was that they did not know how fragile Earthlings were.

Even if they did know, monsters hated humans, and children of the Origin were indifferent to humans.

Either way, they could only be harmful to humans.

“It’s rare for them to be this favorable toward humans.”

“No wonder the Association would covet it.”

“I asked last time too, but are you going to hand him over to that side?”

“I have no intention.”

Bisabeol’s possessiveness was quite strong; even if it was only at the level of briefly entrusting something for inspection, he would never place what was his in someone else’s hands.

Unless it was a clean transaction, he would not handle something in such a half-measure way.

“Curator Yoo Seongun seems to be managing it well on his own, so is there any reason to hand it over to the Association’s research lab?”

“If Gio is a child of the Origin, he could harm people without any guilt.

He would claim he simply moved according to his own rules... but he doesn’t know how great a calamity that would be to humans.”

Investigation was necessary.

“At the level we’re at now, what I can grasp is only the portrait’s story.

I mean I can’t know exactly what techniques it uses, how great that soul rank is, or what role it holds in the Origin.”

“I’m not someone who wants that kind of thing.”

“...”

“Do you remember the things I asked of you when I hired you, Mr. Yoo Seongun?”

Yoo Seongun answered like a sigh.

“Analysis, maintenance, and management of the gallery’s works.”

“That’s right.”

“But I’m not the Association’s research team leader anymore. There isn’t any place that can analyze ‘Gio’s portrait’ as well as that.”

“What a regretful thing to say.

As Curator Yoo Seongun also knows, I’m not someone who wants a weapon.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I want a work.”

Bisabeol smiled, his narrowed eyes curving.

A natural arrogance seeped through, the kind of arrogance that was familiar from birth to someone used to looking down on others.

“That is why I founded this guild, this company.

For me, unless it’s as an artist, I don’t have even a shred of pride as a hunter.”

“...”

“No collector expects to know what kind of stray spirits Van Gogh’s self-portrait wards off, or what kind of good dreams it makes you have.

No one is interested in its function.

They are only curious about the story contained in this painting, and I only want to fully protect that story with my own hands.”

“It really could become dangerous.

It is the only existence to slip past the guildmaster’s emotion skill, and even if it considers and respects humans, its rank is too high.

Even if you don’t feel holiness, it’s almost at the level of a god that priests serve.

Just because the portrait is careful doesn’t mean humans can set their minds at ease.”

“Have you seen those eyes?”

“...”

It was out of the blue.

“...Pardon?”

“Have you seen those eyes, Mr. Yoo Seongun?”

“...Do you mean the portrait’s eyes?”

“My, it seems you haven’t.”

“No, it’s not that I haven’t.”

“Then say it.”

Bisabeol waved his hand elegantly.

Even the gesture coaxing him to spit out an answer carried the refinement of someone lofty.

“How was it?”

“...”

Yoo Seongun’s 고민 was not long.

“...It was distant.”

Fear.

Awe and disgust, anger and sorrow, joy and ecstasy, despair, loneliness and dizziness.

Toward an existence so immense it couldn’t possibly be fully recognized in a single instant...

“...I don’t know how to explain it well.

I have an emotion skill too, but because that rank was vividly visible even without using my skill, I couldn’t grasp it objectively.”

It was distant to the point that it could not be expressed with a stale word like “the universe.”

It felt like I myself was touching even places I could see but could not see.

“It definitely seemed black, but it also looked white.

It was so dark that it felt bright instead, and it seemed like you couldn’t distinguish the pupil and iris, yet if you looked into it... you could see dense paths.”

There was rainwater inside it.

There were streams, brooks, and water veins.

It was dense like a tree’s, and also delicate like human blood vessels.

And it was so enormous and multicolored it was vast enough that humans could not possibly recognize it.

It was to the point that it felt like humans had stolen a glimpse of something they should not look into.

Something that large existed inside those narrow pupils.

“The saying that the eyes are the window of the soul came to mind.”

“A decent impression.

It isn’t bad.”

“From the way you say that, it seems my impression is unsatisfying.”

“It can’t be helped.”

Bisabeol smiled as if appreciating the mistake of a very unskilled child.

Yoo Seongun suddenly recalled Bisabeol’s actual age.

He had enough years to teach Yoo Seongun.

“I told you to look into his eyes, but didn’t you just go and appreciate the work?

Before our jobs and tastes, we are humans capable of conversation.”

“...”

“If Gio has an ego, that also means he has eyes with which he can communicate with people.”

He asked again.

“Have you ever seen his eyes?”

“...In the sense you just meant, no.”

“Have you ever thought about what emotion the person named Gio feels, and with what gaze he looks at you, Mr. Yoo Seongun—not the soul rank and the torrent within his pupils?”

“No, I haven’t.”

Who could think such a thing before that enormous existence.

How could something small and base like me dare.

“...That kind of thing... unless you’re Guildmaster Bisabeol, no one will be able to.”

“A gardener can’t be thinking so narrowly.

Make your heart big, bigger.”

“Isn’t that asking too much of an ordinary gardener?”

“Gio is a kind person.”

“...”

“Very gentle.”

Bisabeol continued as if teaching a child.

“He dislikes troublesome things, but he doesn’t hate.

If you do not resent what makes you uncomfortable, how gentle a person is that.

He keeps manners himself and respects the other, yet has enough mercy not to force it.”

“A generous evaluation.”

“And on top of that, he fears harming someone.”

“...”

It was an unexpected story.

“...Gio, you mean?

At best, it would be like a human stepping on an ant.”

“Right.”

“Not the disgust at a bug that burst in front of him, but he feels fear at the act of harming itself?”

“Didn’t I say he’s gentle?”

“Without even being able to talk—after at most meeting eyes once...”

“This is the level of ability you need to be guildmaster.

You have to grasp this much from a single meeting of eyes.”

“...That is true.”

Bisabeol was someone who, without separate martial force, built Korea’s third great guild using only a single emotion skill.

Considering his physical ability was that of an average man, you could tell how extraordinary those eyes and mouth were.

‘Because he’s that kind of person, it’s only natural he sees differently from me.

He probably sees the world itself differently.’

Yoo Seongun swallowed a sigh and said,

“...I understand.

So you mean we can proceed like this without other measures?”

“I’m glad you seem to understand well.

Gio will probably do his best not to harm humans too, so please ensure he does not get angry.

People who are gentle are scarier when they get angry, you know.”

“So that’s exactly why I’m saying we should prevent that...”

“There’s no way to prevent an individual from getting angry, and even if there were, it would obviously be handling things at the level of sealing the portrait or eliminating it, wouldn’t it?

No matter how harsh the world has become, we can’t treat someone trying to live properly like that.”

“...”

With a subtly unfamiliar face, Yoo Seongun asked.

“...Are you seeing him as a person... ‘Gio’s portrait’?”

“Then who do you think the person Curator Yoo Seongun has been talking with until now is?”

“The rank is different, isn’t it.”

“But it is an existence with the will to converse, that sees itself as a person.”

“That is...”

“What is different about that from a human.”

Bisabeol said as if singing.

“Dangerous humans are overflowing even without Gio’s portrait.

In Korea alone, there are five hunters with high-risk abilities, and those people each live just fine on their own.

Someone treats them like dangerous dogs and picks fights over every little thing, but that’s the sort of thing that existed even a hundred years ago when there were no dungeons.”

“If you stay that lax, something you’ll regret may happen.

Gio is an existence fully capable of that.”

“Even those dangerous hunters enjoy daily life, so who are we to suppress even a portrait.”

“It’s not suppression, it’s investigation...”

“And what if Gio gets angry in the process?”

“...”

“He’s a friend who values manners—if you dig into his insides as you please and earn his anger, that is a greater calamity.

Just be Gio’s good conversation partner.”

He pointed beyond the wall-sized windows.

“And sometimes take him outside too.”

“...Are you serious?”

“I know what you’re worried about.”

Bisabeol nodded.

“Of course I know.

Children of the Origin are very secretive and cautious existences, aren’t they.

They are a part of an ecosystem with little interest in humans.

They are nature itself, and I also know that because of that, they can come as a sufficient disaster.

Because they are that kind of existence.”

“...”

“And humans are also a part of nature.”

He said calmly.

“Gio is no different.”

“...Yes.”

“Treat him well.

If there are rules, match them, and if petty conflicts pile up, bicker and resolve them.”

“Understood.”

“If he said he is twenty-nine himself, then that is what it is.

He’s a young man who hasn’t even turned thirty, so as a senior in life, shouldn’t you look after him?”

“...The probability is high that it’s Gio’s misunderstanding.

In reality he isn’t twenty-nine, but his memories are fitted to a twenty-nine-year-old youth, so it’s likely he said that.

In truth he might be well over a thousand.

If he’s a child of the Origin, that’s entirely possible.”

“What does that matter so much.”

“...”

Yoo Seongun let out a sigh and nodded.

“That is true.”

He was a gardener.

He pours his heart into his garden, pours that much affection into it, and feels pride.

It was Gio, an existence related to the Origin that forms the foundation of that garden.

Though he said response was necessary, unless the portrait showed a reaction first, Yoo Seongun also wanted to treat him just as gentlemanly from this side.

“After I went to the trouble of telling you a story as a collector’s curator.”

“I’m always grateful for Curator Yoo Seongun’s generosity.”

“Stop.

It’s disgusting.

Anyway, so...”

Glancing at his watch, Yoo Seongun asked,

“So I should become Gio’s guide?”

“If possible, give him a tour of our guild too, introduce him to the employees, and go outside—if there’s a decent play, let him see it, buy him something to eat, and show him tourist spots.”

“So really a guide.

No, even so, introducing him to employees seems a bit much... the employees will refuse first.

Gio doesn’t like noisy things either.”

“You can judge that as you see fit.

If Gio likes quiet, then help him look around the company or outside even at dawn.”

“Just what are you trusting...”

“I told you I saw it.”

A vivid smile.

“I saw it.”

“...”

Bisabeol sees what humans cannot see.

Yoo Seongun decided to trust that point.

“...Understood.”

“I look forward to your continued care, Curator Yoo Seongun.”

“If an accident happens, I don’t know anything about it.”

“That much I’ll handle.”

“Seriously, what are you thinking...”

Though he was grumbling, Yoo Seongun’s mood was quite good.

‘I can broaden his activity range.’

Gio, always only inside the portrait, had been on his mind already.

He says it’s more comfortable and better in there, but still, letting him know he can officially come and go would probably put Gio’s mind more at ease.

‘Maybe because it’s the first time I’ve seen a child of the Origin with such smooth communication, if I just watch him, I end up wanting to do this and that for him...’

From the gardener’s, the curator’s standpoint, Yoo Seongun felt proud of him.

If he faced that enormous rank directly, the story would be a bit different, but as things stood now, Gio was nothing more than a talking portrait.

Since Yoo Seongun was in the position of managing him, this kind of impression wasn’t that strange.

‘...Though it’s an impression with my guts outside my belly, yes.

When the day comes that I truly face that rank, be careful so I don’t stiffen up and make Gio uncomfortable for no reason.’

Something entered Yoo Seongun’s view as he came out of the guild.

“...”

A bungeoppang cart.

“...This is rare.”

With a happy heart, Yoo Seongun approached the bungeoppang pushcart.

“Are you doing business?”

“Ah, yes, I am.”

“How much for ten bungeoppang?”

“Five thousand won.”

“Please.”

“Just a moment.”

The cart owner was a young man with a blunt impression.

“Here you go.”

“Looks delicious...

Do you come here often?”

“Until I get caught by enforcement, I guess.”

“Hm.”

That somewhat blunt tone reminded him a little of Gio.

“...”

Ah, right.

“Give me ten more.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“I’m the one who’s grateful.”

“What are you grateful for?”

“These days there aren’t many places that make bungeoppang.

It’s gotten harder to see lately.”

“Ah...”

Since it looked like it would take time for new bungeoppang to come out, Yoo Seongun continued the conversation.

Maybe the young man was bored too; unlike his sharply cut tone, he spoke amiably.

“It’s hard to do business.

But if you try selling bungeoppang outside the city, no one buys it, so I come in like this from time to time and sell.”

“Oh, so you come all the way here from outside the city?”

“Which city person would do this kind of business?”

The young man shrugged.

“Most of them work office jobs or act as hunters, don’t they.”

“Even so, it must be quite far.

You must be tired—impressive.”

“There are a few people who say bungeoppang feels nostalgic and help out, so so far it’s manageable.

And my younger sibling also works as a hunter around here...”

“Finding a house around here is probably too expensive.”

“It’s hard to afford city rent.

And getting citizenship isn’t something just anyone can do.”

“Don’t they hand out short-term permits easily?

I heard the hurdle is low.”

“I do have a permit.

Sometimes I can’t finish work by the terminal closing time... so I just don’t get lodging.

It takes time and money, and there’s nothing to gain either way.”

As he flipped the bungeoppang mold, the young man said,

“And I have a ten-year-old sibling at home too, so I have to go back.”

“Ah, then you definitely... have to go back.

If you leave them alone and a monster comes into the village, it’d be a mess.

It’ll feel reassuring to have the older brother there.”

“My younger sister works as a porter too, so we only earn money here, but once every three days we go back home and then head out again the next week.

Right now my younger sister is at home, so I came out to work.”

“Impressive.”

“This area sells well, so it’s good.”

“Is that so...”

Tilting his head, Yoo Seongun asked,

“Then how long can you keep coming out?”

“Probably until early spring... it’s still winter.

Once it gets warm, I’ll look for other work then.”

“Still, that’s quite a while.

I’ll see you from time to time.”

“Thank you.”

The young man took the bungeoppang out of the machine.

Steam rose from the freshly made bungeoppang.

A nutty aroma spread.

“Eat it while it’s warm.”

“Oh, thanks.”

Holding the bungeoppang, Yoo Seongun headed back to the company.

More precisely, to the front of “Gio’s portrait,” which would be in Bisabeol’s gallery.

“Gio, are you awake?”

“...”

“Gio?”

Fortunately, Gio opened his eyes quickly.

“What is it?”

“I saw someone selling bungeoppang near the station, so I bought some.”

“It does not seem like ‘some.’”

“Ah, you’re right.

It isn’t just one.

I thought you might like it, so I brought about ten.”

“...”

The portrait, blinking twice, soon nodded.

“Thank you.

Thanks to you, I receive bungeoppang for the first time in a long while.”

“You know bungeoppang too?”

“I did not know whether bungeoppang would still exist.”

“...Yeah?”

As expected, Gio seemed to be an existence with experience living in Korea.

‘Or an existence from a dimension similar to it...

Or even if he didn’t live there, he might have only received the memories.’

When Yoo Seongun held out the bag with bungeoppang, it seeped into the painting.

“Oh... it literally became a painting.”

“Thank you for the gift.”

“It’s nothing.

I hope it suits your taste.”

“I like street food like this.”

“That’s a relief.”

He’d worried, because of that cold impression that looked as if a needle couldn’t slip through.

‘His impression is a bit aristocratic.’

Gio seemed like a heavenly noble whose hands had never once touched water, and also like an AI civil servant made for a fast-turning modern society.

Gio’s atmosphere was so sharp and heavy that you could feel weight just from looking at his expression, so for a moment he worried whether Gio would like street food. That he might sneer, thinking, ‘How dare you give me something like this and call it food...’

“Next time, if there’s something like gyeran-ppang or takoyaki, should I buy that too?”

“...”

“...Gio?”

After a brief silence, Gio took something out from his chest.

It was a neatly tied white pouch.

“...What’s that?”

“It is tea leaves.”

“Tea?”

“There was a fragrant flower, so I dried it.”

“...”

“It is in return.”

When he held out his hand—

Outside the painting, Gio’s hand popped out together with the tea pouch.

“...This is new again.”

“Please take it.”

“Uh, um, thanks.”

Rustle.

From inside the paper pouch placed on his hand, a good scent flowed out.

‘Like cream.’

A fragrance like sweet custard or milk cream.

“...”

It felt a little strange.

‘...If I say you don’t have to repay me like this every time, would that sound rude from the standpoint of an Origin-being with rules.

I feel odd because I’m being treated too generously compared to what I give.’

Yoo Seongun put the pouch inside his coat and said,

“Thanks, I should drink tea for the first time in a while.”

“I hope it suits your taste.”

“First of all, the scent is really good.

I’ll drink it with gratitude.”

“And I have a request.”

“Huh?

A request?”

Gio asked.

“May I ask you for seeds?”

“...Seeds for what?”

“Anything that can be cultivated in a field is fine.”

“...”

What on earth does he do in there.

‘A field?’

Suddenly, Yoo Seongun found himself curious about the scenery inside the portrait.

Fantasy, modern,