Chapter 62

The Painter Who Draws Dungeons — Episode 62

He hadn’t expected a situation like this.

“This is Eunha!

My partner!”

“So priests are basically two-person teams—they already assigned you a partner.”

“Now Eunha and I are one team!”

Watching Cha Isol boast about his partner to his family, Gio blinked behind his hood.

‘Looking at him like this, they really do resemble each other.’

Even though he must be flustered from being dragged over so suddenly, the way he smiles skillfully.

There was clearly a difference in that seasoned air, but that bluish hair with a faint turquoise tint stirred Gio’s memories of Giovanni.

‘Didn’t Iser’s name also mean the Milky Way?’

Because a dream is a dream, he’d forgotten a lot after waking, so he wasn’t sure, but the long blue hair reminded him of the mermaid Iser from the dream.

“...”

“Um, these people are...”

Maybe because of Gio’s gaze, Eunha opened his mouth, looking like he wanted Cha Isol to introduce them.

Cha Isol made an oops expression, then quickly broke into a bright smile and explained.

“My hyung and noona—you can tell at a glance, right?

And they’re not family, but this is Hyung Gio, the one I told you about last time!”

Cha Isol hurried for an answer.

“He’s insanely handsome, right!”

“Huh?

Uh, yeah...”

At that boldness, Gio was also embarrassed.

With his face hidden by the hood, how could he tell he was handsome?

‘It’s not like that kid has a clairvoyance skill.’

Awkward at being praised for his looks so openly by a child, Gio couldn’t endure the discomfort and greeted him.

“Nice to meet you. My name is Seo Gio.”

“...I’m Eunha.”

Wearing a mature smile that felt oddly unfamiliar, the child named Eunha added shortly,

“Yes, nice to meet you.”

Gio thought to himself.

‘So it really was my misunderstanding.’

You could call it a hasty judgment, but the Iser Giovanni remembered, separately from trying to be polite and courteous, was a bit dim somewhere and had that quality that made him fun to tease.

‘In many ways he was clumsy, so his speech was much stiffer too.’

In short, he was a kid quite far from words like “mature” or “seasoned.”

Compared to that fresh young student who had been like tender sunlight, the child before his eyes had a chilly air about him.

‘That I’d meet a child who resembles Iser this much not long after I started assimilating as Giovanni—could be called quite a fate.’

And since the last image of Iser he recalled had been in his late teens to early twenties, it felt all the more like they weren’t the same person.

“Since we’ve gathered like this, how about we have a meal together?”

At Gio’s suggestion, Yoo Sungwoon nodded.

“Oh, that’s good.

If it’s Eunha-gun, maybe, but the Cha family won’t suddenly start being shy with us now, right?

Isn’t that so?”

“H-however, it feels like we’d be causing too much trouble...”

“Anyway, Cha Isol-gun says that once he goes into the dorm, he won’t be able to come out for a while.

Rather than two dark men like me and Gio eating all cozy by ourselves, wouldn’t it be much nicer atmosphere-wise if it were a little more bustling?”

As expected, he’s a senior.

‘I should learn that seasoned skill.’

That social finesse—drawing the other party in the way he wants without being rude, as smoothly as flowing water—was truly admirable.

Isn’t he the model of an adult who’s good at social life?

Of course, if he knew what Gio was thinking, Yoo Sungwoon would have gotten goosebumps and wanted to die, but.

“Eunha-gun, is there anything you can’t eat?”

“I don’t really eat meat.”

“Ah, a vegetarian?

Come to think of it, when you look around, there are especially a lot of vegans among priests.”

“As long as it isn’t land meat, I don’t mind.”

“Then you’re not the type that’s extremely picky?

Then it’d be better to go with seafood.”

Even as he said that, Yoo Sungwoon checked the child named Eunha without making it obvious.

‘...For some reason, it feels a little off.’

Behind his mild expression, Yoo Sungwoon hid faint suspicion.

Yoo Sungwoon, who often dealt with children of the Origin, was especially sensitive to the aura of things that weren’t human.

If he was feeling that alienness now, then he could judge it was certainly a problem.

‘Doesn’t seem like a child of the Origin—then it’s closer to a monster.

Is it a dangerous one, after all?’

But since he was a preliminary priest, it could also be that Yoo Sungwoon was mistaking the alienness of a god.

‘...It’s not like that never happens.

Especially if it’s a kid who receives a lot of a god’s gaze or love, even if it isn’t the kid’s own issue, he could give off plenty of that off feeling.’

Because of the other’s young appearance, he became especially cautious, and Yoo Sungwoon decided to swallow his wariness as-is.

Because he might be suspecting an innocent child.

‘If something happens, it’d be good if I could at least take Gio and slip away.

Since he’s a work whose behavior patterns or rules haven’t been grasped yet... if possible, I don’t want to give him any big stimulus.’

As long as it wasn’t something that harmed the work he was in charge of, he could not care whether the child before him was a monster or anything.

In this world, monsters killing humans and people killing people were both commonplace.

Here, humans were a part of the props.

An event where only about thirty people died wouldn’t even make the news.

‘Still, I hope nothing happens.

If it gets noisy, only my overtime will increase.’

As if he’d never even had another thought, Yoo Sungwoon mildly continued.

“Anyone here dislike seafood?”

“...I don’t really know, since I haven’t tried it...”

“Then you can try it this time.”

Cha Ara showed an unenthused reaction, but Yoo Sungwoon, who had expected it, let it pass lightly.

Because it wasn’t a remark spat out from inferiority or jealousy, but simply the reaction of, ‘I don’t know shit, why are you asking me that.’

“I know a decent hairtail place.”

“Huh?

A hairtail place?”

“Even if there are a lot of people, the room itself is big, so they’ll be able to take us.

How about we go there?

I’ll guarantee the taste.”

“But that’s not the issue—th-that, if it’s a hairtail place, isn’t it insanely expensive...”

When Cha Ara grew subtly anxious, her oppa, Cha Eunhyuk, had a similar reaction.

“Is it alright for Grade 3 citizens like us to go to such a restaurant?”

“...?”

Gio, who had been listening without thinking, quietly panicked.

‘...What did I just hear?’

Grade 3 citizens can’t eat hairtail?

‘Even if the class system has returned, to discriminate in such a petty way with what people eat—how can it be this scary.’

Gio, who is serious about food, became greatly sad.

He was very bitter at how his hometown had become corrupted.

‘If I’d gone through something as big as the Great Catastrophe, I would’ve run to Gangwon-do first, so would I have been a Grade 3 citizen too?

If I had lived on Earth paying rent, I wouldn’t have been able to eat even one bite of hairtail.’

Accustomed to a democratic society, Gio was inwardly horrified, but a city hairtail restaurant in this era was a very high-class place.

In the city, Grade 3 citizens who subtly faced discrimination—going there would be a perfect way to draw disapproving looks.

“I get what you’re worried about...”

Sensing that feeling, Yoo Sungwoon shrugged.

“Anyway, it’s all private rooms, and at this time there probably won’t be many people.

If you’re uncomfortable, we can look for somewhere else, but since we’re spending money anyway, let’s all eat something delicious together.”

Yoo Sungwoon turned to Eunha.

“Eunha-gun, hairtail okay?”

“For me, I’m grateful if you buy me anything.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

With even Eunha—presumed to be a carnation kid—agreeing, Cha Ara and Cha Eunhyuk ended up agreeing too.

“Is this okay...?”

“A hairtail place...”

The Cha family followed behind Yoo Sungwoon with faces that looked as if they’d been tricked.

As Gio was about to move together with those close siblings, he noticed Eunha, oddly separated out.

“...”

“...”

That makes me worry.

“Eunha-student.”

Separate from the fact that he resembled his former student Iser, as someone who had, in his own way, been a teacher, Gio didn’t like the sight of a child keeping distance as if he didn’t belong here.

With a dry face, Iser—fortunately—came to life at Gio’s call and answered.

He looked a little startled, too.

“Ah, yes.”

“Shall we go together.”

As Giovanni held out one hand, Eunha hesitated for a moment, then took it.

‘...Colder than I expected.’

That small hand was quite cool for a child, who should be burning with heat just by breathing.

“Your body temperature is low.”

“Maybe it’s because my anemia is bad.”

The child smiled skillfully.

A soft, benevolent smile—the kind you naturally associate with the word “priest.”

It might be a little strange to use the word “benevolent” for a child like this, but for some reason, Gio thought that smile was familiar.

‘It doesn’t suit this student.’

Where had he seen this smile?

While Gio quietly traced back his memory, the child, perhaps anxious because there had been no response, spoke as if pretending to be calm.

“Are my cold hands uncomfortable?”

Would it be strange to say it sounded like a question expecting something.

Gio answered without thinking.

“It feels cool, so I like it.”

“It’s winter, and you say that.”

“I’m someone who runs hot.”

“...”

For some reason, after a brief silence, Eunha said,

“Your hands are cold too, Mr. Gio.”

“Ah, right.”

“Why...”

“I forgot for a moment.”

“What did you forget?”

“I forgot the fact that I’ve become cold.”

Because he’d been so out of it lately, having continuous dreams of ‘Giovanni’s life theater,’ he had honestly, completely forgotten.

Even his own body temperature.

‘When I was Giovanni, maybe because I was a priest of the sun, I ran hot.’

Seo Gio too, and the portrait too, weren’t particularly warm-bodied.

‘Did it sound strange?’

Maybe because his assimilation rate had shot up lately, his words slipped.

As he wondered what to say next and turned to the child...

“...”

“...?”

He saw the small face stiffen.

“Eunha-student?”

“I just got cold for a moment... and was thinking about something else.”

“Then would you like to let go of my hand?”

“No.”

Eunha murmured.

“...If we keep holding hands, maybe it’ll get warmer.”

“That is also true.”

“...”

“...I’m glad you don’t dislike it.”

For some reason the atmosphere is chilly, but to Gio, this child’s nature itself was kind and gentle.

‘If a kid is like this, life will get tiring—what a shame.

As expected, just because you’re grown-up doesn’t mean it’s good.’

For Gio, who can have a month’s worth of worries blown away cleanly with one roasted sweet potato, it was a hardship beyond imagining.

“The main ceremony seems like it will be starting soon.”

“...Yes, it does. I should be going.”

As if parting, the child added,

“It was fun.”

“Then that is a relief.”

Gio realized it was a lie.

‘...As expected, Hell Korea...’

Even kids were no joke.

‘It’s a world where a weakling like me, who only knows how to eat good food, can’t survive.’

Today, too, he was a haunted portrait shrinking back diligently.

Fantasy, modern,