Chapter 32

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons — Episode 32

Gio inhaled the foods from the night market.

“...”

“Do you have a question?”

“No, you eat well.”

“Yes, that is correct.”

Gio was a big eater.

“Aren’t you full?”

“I tend to eat a lot to begin with, so I’m fine.”

“It’s impressive, to the point I’m amazed.”

“If it tasted bad, I would stop at a reasonable point, but everything was delicious, so I did.”

“Well, it has to be delicious for people to come.”

It was correct in theory, but if every restaurant and food were delicious, there would be no shops going under.

‘Anyway, tourist spots have gotten pretty substantial in these thirty-one years.

When I visited with my class, wasn’t it basically just walking into history?

It took quite a bit of effort to soothe the kids when they got bored.’

Having roughly pulled up his neoul, Gio chewed on rice cakes grilled over charcoal and coated in rice syrup.

This was Korean tanghulu.

‘Back then, Gyeongbokgung had that typical cultural heritage... that old-fashioned feeling.’

It was a place full of memories, but what had made those memories wasn’t Gyeongbokgung itself so much as communicating with students who wore hanbok and wandered around searching for their sense of identity.

‘I wonder what happened to our idol hopeful who said he must have been a Joseon king in a past life because he was crying for no reason.

I’m curious if they’re all living well.’

If it hadn’t been for those students, faithfully devoted to nonsense like proper high schoolers who couldn’t live in their right minds, Gio wouldn’t have enjoyed Gyeongbokgung as much either.

Hanok are beautiful and antique, sure, but especially in summer, if you said you had to come here, how many students were there who complained?

‘But Gyeongbokgung now has substance.

There’s definitely a lot to enjoy.’

People in hanbok each enjoyed roleplay in their own way, and sometimes even traded the types of lanterns they bought with other people.

Everyone looked happy.

“...”

If there was one thing he was curious about.

‘What is that.’

He could see some transparent shadow-like thing wearing hanbok and swaying about.

‘In the fan shop too, and in the hanok village alleys too... similar things were wandering around.’

There could be exceptions, but everything Gio saw was wearing a mask.

A bunch of shadowy figures in the form of a traveling troupe, swaying along a cord with lanterns hanging from it; a bunch of ribbon-haired children hopping through the crowd; a bunch of civil officials coming and going inside the palace where entry was restricted...

“...Mr. Yoo Sungwoon.”

“Hm?”

“What are those called?”

“What... oh.”

Yoo Sungwoon spoke as if it were only natural that Gio would know.

“They’re fairy tales—living stories.

First time seeing them in a place like this?”

“...”

“They’re guys who usually like places without people, so it’s rare to see them in a loud tourist spot like this.

Still, they’re one of the proper children of the Origin.”

This, he’d heard before.

“You told me something similar last time as well.”

“What?

About the children of the Origin?”

“Yes. Could you explain a bit more in detail?”

“...Ah, is that so.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Yoo Sungwoon continued.

“I think I mentioned it briefly while explaining gardeners last time... but I kind of glossed over it then.

It’s hard to summarize simply, but I’ll explain.”

“...”

“There’s a transcendent existence we humans define as the ‘Origin’—you could call it the god of gods.

A kind of system that manages balance across the entire universe and dimensions, creating various rules.”

“A system.”

“And this Origin usually creates other children.

Those are called ‘children of the Origin.’

They’re beings you can classify as a single kind of nature—like waves, wind, or beasts and humans.”

“...”

“And these children of the Origin can also be categorized in a few ways...”

Yoo Sungwoon pointed at the shape of civil officials moving inside the palace.

Their faces couldn’t be seen, hidden behind large hats and neoul, and their sleeves were so strangely long you couldn’t confirm any part of their bodies.

Moving in groups, their actions were so sharply aligned they had a charm that drew the eye, like watching a synchronized dance—but precisely because of that, they didn’t feel like living creatures.

It was as if a shadow had put on clothes and was imitating a person.

“Those guys are called ‘fairy tales.’”

“What kind of beings are they?”

“Like most children of the Origin, they aren’t interested in humans and don’t harm them. ‘Fairy tales’ are living stories, and at the same time, beings close to the shape of humans.”

“Then is their mind close to a human’s?”

“They don’t truly think like humans— they’re just mimicking traces.

Children of the Origin are skilled at crafting their outward appearance.

It’s not something they learned later; it seems it’s simply a characteristic of their very essence.”

After sucking down some persimmon juice, Yoo Sungwoon continued.

“No matter what kind they are, all fairy tales wear masks, and beyond that, there’s no face.

They don’t have a human body, or the ability to think at that level— they’re only copying the exterior.”

“...”

“Just because you drew someone in a picture doesn’t mean that picture becomes a real human.

Ah, well, in your case, I don’t know... but usually there are limits between dimensions.”

“I understand.”

Portraits like him wouldn’t be common in the world.

When Gio affirmed it, Yoo Sungwoon continued.

“They have their own stories, and when those stories end, they disappear.

Gyeongbokgung has a lot of people, but strangely, it’s also a place where quite a few fairy tales live.”

Gio, who had been observing people, asked,

“Can people not see children of the Origin like that?”

“There aren’t many who can.”

Yoo Sungwoon nodded.

“Ordinary people can’t detect the frequencies dolphins or bats use, right?

It’s similar.

Children of the Origin exist in the world, but there aren’t many people who can perceive them.

Even though those guys aren’t particularly hiding, it’s still like that.”

“Ghosts?”

“Uh... you could see it that way, but it’s a bit different in that they don’t understand humans at all, maybe.

No matter how much they dress themselves up to look like humans, the inside is empty.

Their roots are different.”

As if something occurred to him, he said,

“Ah, right.

They say that in the past, no one could see children of the Origin like that.

Because Earth was heavily influenced by the Origin and things like dungeons came into being... awakened people were born... and the ecology itself changed, people became able to see them.”

It was a mysterious story, like a fairy tale.

“As you can see, I’m also one of the few talented people who can perceive that kind of Origin.”

“Then I must be as well.”

“Mm, probably.”

Though he tried to hide it, Yoo Sungwoon’s expression was a little awkward.

It was likely because he thought of Gio as something other than human.

‘Anyway, if it’s Mr. Yoo Sungwoon, whether I’m human or not, he’ll understand that I’m a harmless existence who can’t even kill an ant, so it doesn’t matter.’

Worried about being dragged outside the portrait, Gio didn’t bother correcting it, and instead took in Gyeongbokgung’s full view again.

‘Earth and humanity have grown strong.’

There was no doubt he had been left behind.

Gio, who only knew how to eat, sleep, and draw, no longer felt confident he could survive in this harsh world.

“How many people can see the existence of the Origin?”

“You mean the ratio among all humans?

Well, there aren’t many.”

“I see.”

If you’re special, you’re bound to feel pricked.

Gio once again resolved to devote his whole life to the portrait.

“...”

Sitting blankly on the bench, Gio soon noticed a small commotion.

“I hear the sound of fighting.”

“Rare, in a tourist spot like this.”

Leaning against the chair, Yoo Sungwoon tilted his upper body forward.

“They’ll be dragged off by the guards soon, but...”

Sure enough, guards in thick hanbok grabbed the person shouting and making a scene.

It was a middle-aged man, and he was making a fuss trying to rush at a rather handsome man in a scholar’s outfit.

The scholar, whose collar might have been grabbed, was fixing his clothes with a troubled expression.

“...”

He definitely looks like a kind young man, but...

Make a frame and assess the safety level

Reward: Seal

Gio had a hunch.

“Gio?”

“...”

A frame.

Gio raised both hands, shaped them like a camera, and brought them up to his eyes.

Danger ★★★★★

Five stars.

‘You’re extremely dangerous, sir?’

It seemed the guards had grabbed the wrong person to drag out.

Would you like to check their history?

[Yes/No]

Do I really need to?

“...”

The eyes of the young man in the scholar’s outfit met Gio’s.

‘Was I staring too openly.’

Yoo Sungwoon seemed to feel something odd at Gio’s sudden action, but he didn’t add anything.

The scholar swept his eyes up and down as if sizing Gio up, then soon dipped his head and passed by.

His expression looked like he thought Gio was picking a fight, though.

“Guruk.”

“Oh, you startled me.”

At Honey’s sudden appearance, Yoo Sungwoon flinched.

“...Huh?

A waterfowl?

Wait, Gio, this guy—you showed me him last time...”

“This is Honey.”

“You could bring this guy out too?”

“I haven’t tried with other birds, so I’m not sure.”

“Mm, yeah, uh... I see.”

Yoo Sungwoon wore an expression of reaching enlightenment.

“It really is about time Earth collapsed.”

“It seems to be holding up well, so I don’t know why you suddenly say something absurd.”

“I’m sure it’s a sandcastle that’ll collapse if you tap it...”

Smiling with a resigned face, Yoo Sungwoon soon returned to his usual expression and asked,

“So, that person—why?

He caught your attention?”

“He looked dangerous.”

“...Really?”

“He seemed to dislike me.”

A scary person.

“I didn’t want to pick a fight.”

He’d forgotten for a moment that if you make eye contact for more than three seconds, it’s a binary choice of ‘Does that bastard like me?’ or ‘Does that bastard want to fight me?’

‘Before it passed three seconds, I should have spoken politely and kindly, but your history is too splendid, so I missed the timing to act friendly. It’s clear that Seo Gio’s instincts, once called a Pokémon Trainer of the 21st century, are dead.’

In other words, when eyes meet, it’s battle.

In a good sense or a bad sense.

‘That man just now seems to have taken it in a bad sense.’

In this tough era where businessmen in suits hunt monsters, what was he trying to do by picking a fight with a gentleman whose danger level was five stars.

‘No, people walking around shouldn’t have danger levels this high in the first place.’

Resenting this hellish Korea gone mad, Gio said sincerely,

“It’s scary.”

“It’s hard to take it seriously when you say you’re scared... are you being sarcastic?”

“We should return to the hotel.”

“If you want to.”

After politely tucking Honey, who was trying to poke out from between his scarf, back inside, Gio left Gyeongbokgung.

As if he liked the glittering fish lantern, at some point he had tucked it into his own stomach.

And then, after passing out on the hotel bed and waking at dawn, 3:32 a.m.

“...”

Gio confirmed that Honey was gone.

“Please.”

Can’t you just leave me in peace.

I’m going to cry.

* * *

“...”

A dark, deserted alley in a poor district.

“...So what the hell was that bastard earlier.”

Now having taken off his scholar’s outfit, the man roughly raked back his hair.

‘The feeling was off.’

It was some man wearing jet-black hanbok.

His face wasn’t visible, wrapped up so thoroughly.

He seemed about 190 centimeters tall, but it was hard to guess who he was based only on gender and height.

“It’s bugging me.”

Normally, he would have just let it go, thinking some weird bastard was picking a fight.

But.

“Back then, that hand gesture...”

A hand motion as if imitating a frame.

It was only for a moment, but it felt like his personal information was being peeled open completely.

“...”

The man scratched his head hard.

“...This won’t do, shit, it’s definitely weird.

That bastard was an awakened one, right?”

The person sitting beside him was Hunter Yoo Sungwoon.

Bisabeol’s curator was stuck to his side and guiding him personally, so it was probably some rich young master who had only just awakened recently, or something.

‘That unlucky politeness was soaked into his body.’

But it was troublesome.

‘If the work I’m arranging gets found out...’

It wouldn’t end with him simply being demoted to a Grade 5 citizen.

There were far more awakened ones than you’d imagine who possessed skills that could arbitrarily check someone’s thoughts or memories, or peek into their past.

They just don’t say it because they worry about getting stabbed somewhere—those skills aren’t actually that rare.

So the jet-black man he saw at the Gyeongbokgung night market might have used that kind of skill to peer into his thoughts.

Considering that sudden hand gesture, it was a very plausible conclusion.

“...”

Hoo...

A sigh escaped.

“The event’s about to start soon, and what is this, really.”

Thinking about what came after, he couldn’t let it slide like this.

What he was doing now was an extremely dangerous task, and an act of betraying humanity.

He’d never felt guilt, but he couldn’t help being troubled if he got caught.

No matter how he thought about it, still.

“I’ll have to kill him.”

How long and how much devotion had it taken to secure a place in the Temple of the Sun God?

He couldn’t leave a risk factor alone now just because it left an unpleasant aftertaste.

He made up his mind and was about to track down traces of the man he’d seen at Gyeongbokgung, when—

“...”

“...”

“...What.”

Some squishy bird was sitting on a pipe.

With a tourist fish lantern swimming inside it, it was quite bright.

Bright enough that he didn’t know how he’d only noticed it now in this dark alley.

“...”

It was strange.

‘...It’s a form I’ve never seen—hard to call it a city monster.’

And generally, monsters shaped like birds—especially small ones like this—almost always traveled in flocks.

Any beast or monster that traveled alone did so because it had the power to protect itself.

Then how likely was it that this single, insignificant-looking bird was an ordinary monster?

“...This, shit, no way...”

Was it a surveillance monster that the bastard he saw at Gyeongbokgung had attached?

‘Was he a tamer?’

He hadn’t expected him to be a hunter with a class.

No wonder Yoo Sungwoon, that shady bastard, treated him politely—so he was an awakened one valuable enough for that.

The man gripped his staff tightly.

“...Well, that works out.”

It seemed the owner of this bird was a rookie.

Wasn’t the owner’s scent plainly coming off the bird?

It looked like he hadn’t considered that if he sent a spy, he could be exposed in return.

The man forced a smile.

“If you noticed something strange, you should have told Yoo Sungwoon right away.”

He couldn’t feel any threat from this bird, which was only staring blankly.

It really did look like a surveillance camera, and if so, it would actually be easier to track in the opposite direction.

‘Didn’t have enough certainty to report it to Yoo Sungwoon.’

Not reporting suspicions early to a superior.

A common mistake rookies made.

‘Stupid.’

He didn’t know exactly what this bird was, but he needed to deal with it now.

Thinking that, the man reached out and grabbed the tiny bird, small enough to be only a bite—

—Crunch.

“...”

“...”

“Huh?”

His hand.

Was gone.

“...”

Inside the bird’s transparent body, his hand could be seen.

The fish lantern’s limp body wrapped around the severed hand.

Soon, the two slowly melted away.

“...Ah.”

“Kuuk.”

“Shit.”

The man wasn’t incompetent.

“Guruk?”

“You... you fucking dog-like...”

“Gurururuk?”

“...No way.”

“Kkukguruk.”

A priest of the sun and a rank that was never to be taken lightly, he was in a position where he was allowed to be arrogant.

However, all of this was a disaster where things that could not happen by common sense overlapped, not as miracles but as calamities.

It was not a hardship a single individual could deal with.

The little bird’s body began to swell grotesquely.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

“Gururuk?”

Feathers glittering with a light you couldn’t even tell whether it was moon or sun.

Hard claws like hooks and long legs.

And a huge beak.

“No...!”

Gurgle—.

The sound of water flowing, and.

“Ugh, urk...!”

Then the sound of churning again, and.

“...!...!!!”

“...”

“...!!”

“...”

“...”

Soon,

silence fell.

“...”

The man could not be seen anywhere.

“Guruk.”

Only one very small bird calmly flew away.

* * *

“Honey.”

Gio likes small, harmless things.

However, children of the Origin were those skilled at crafting themselves.

“Where did you go.”

“Gur.”

“You’re cute, so it’s fine.”

Then.

What, exactly, is that essence?

“There’s bungeoppang over there.”

“Kuuk!!”

“You really are my son.”

“Gururung?”

“You have an eye for tasty things.”

That, even a child of the Origin wouldn’t know.

Fantasy, modern,