The Artist Who Paints Dungeon

Chapter 15



“I concluded it was a resolution issue.”

“…Resolution?”

Unexpectedly, the portrait easily answered Yoo Sung-woon's question.

“When I go outside, it's like the painting becomes reality.”

“That’s right.”

“In that case, wouldn't there be a difference in the realm that humans perceive?”

Gio, who had opened his eyes for the first time in a long while, nonchalantly continued.

“I’m not sure since I've never looked into a mirror outside the painting, but most of the employees here find me distant, as if facing the unknown, even though they see and talk to me directly. The fear intensifies even after we finish introducing each other and exchanging information …”

“Do you think there's a problem in the perception process?”

“That’s right.”

Quite a good analogy.

'To express the level of the soul like this, if he were a teacher, it would suit him well.'

Unaware that Gio was speaking a sincere guess without a shred of lie, Yoo Sung-woon thought it was simply the most plausible analogy the portrait could offer.

Resolution was something he could make sense of.

'Come to think of it, Gio has been exchanging introductions with everyone he meets for the first time.'

At this sudden thought, Yoo Sung-woon asked.

“Do you put importance in exchanging introductions?”

“By exchanging names, you can increase intimacy. I thought that would be the case as well.”

“Ah…”

What do you mean, it was to increase the level of intimacy? Yoo Sung-woon asked back with a slightly perplexed face.

“Did you purposely introduce yourself to make people feel more intimate?”

“That’s human courtesy, too. If you want to know the other person, you should have introduced yourself first.”

“I see.”

He didn't seem to realize that this might be even scarier.

'…For a being whose soul is so immense that it causes perception issues just by being in front of you to ask for your name, it's really hard to feel intimacy from that.'

For spiritual beings, a true name is always a bargaining chip. Unless one is from a rural area or elderly, people would know the danger of exchanging true names. ṟ

'Moreover, Gio, who is entirely black, might even seem like a grim reaper, making people more cautious.'

Of course, this is a rule that applies among humans. In fact, introducing oneself is a useful technique when extracting information from others. Just sharing a name can build a bit of trust.

In that sense, it’s something he felt every time.

'…Does Gio really consider himself a human?’

It was something to be careful of.

'If Gio's current natural respect and consideration for humans came from such a misconception, as much as possible, it's best to maintain his belief that he's human.'

Otherwise, there's no telling what kind of catastrophe might occur.

“Hmm… That's right.”

If he thought of himself as human, it was easier to ask him about various things.

“Then, how old are you?”

“I'm 29 years old.”

But this was a bit unexpected.

“…29 years old?”

“Yes.”

“That’s young.”

“I often hear that I look older, but it's a reaction that hurts.”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that….”

It was funny even for Yoo Sung-woon who asked, assuming the portrait had an age, but he didn't expect the portrait, which looked so distant that he couldn't even meet its gaze, was not even thirty years old.

'Is this another one of his misconceptions?'

If Gio perceived himself as an ordinary 29-year-old human, it was a statement that could easily come out, despite how long this portrait had actually existed.

Yoo Sung-woon awkwardly laughed.

“I didn’t know you were younger than me.”

“I’m curious about Mr. Yoo Sung-woon’s age. Can you tell me?”

“I'm 33 years old.”

“I thought you were in your twenties.”

“That’s a very nice thing to say.”

“You look young.”

The portrait spoke in its characteristically blunt tone.

“Then it's okay for you to speak comfortably.”

“Oh… can I do that?”

“I don't remember ever asking you to use formal language.”

“That’s true.”

He had been using formal language deliberately, thinking the portrait valued manners, but it didn't seem to mind that. Maybe it valued polite actions over flashy words.

'Anyway, it doesn't seem to dislike me.'

He wouldn't be asked to speak informally if he were unpleasant or unlikable.

“Then I'll speak more comfortably.”

“As you wish.”

“It feels awkward trying to switch to informal speech after using formal speech all this time.”

“Despite that, you're speaking quite naturally.”

“Oh, that's because… I'm originally more used to informal speech…”

Though he got used to hierarchical life as a curator or researcher, he was a wanderer in his past life as a gardener.

Though he didn't completely ignore etiquette and manners like a rascal, he honestly found informal speech more comfortable.

“More than that, who said you look old?”

“It's something I hear often.”

“You don't particularly look old. Did someone slander you?”

“There are people who don’t believe me when I say I’m in my twenties….”

“Oh, that I understand.”

Yoo Sung-woon was convinced.

“You have a heavy atmosphere. It doesn't feel like you're in your twenties.”

“That's also something I hear often.”

“Then it's clear. It must be because you don't have the atmosphere of a young man.”

Whether this portrait was once human and then turned into a painting, or it was just a painting with human memories, but if people said, 'You don't seem your age,' it was probably because of the atmosphere.

“Besides, before even talking about looking old, you're just handsome.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“If you're that handsome, the sense of maturity doesn't matter at all.”

His smooth skin, like it was covered with white powder, was like porcelain, and the features within it were strong and clear, leaving a strong impression.

His expression, which could seem angry or just peaceful, suited his bluntness well.

“You must have been popular.”

“I have no dating experience.”

He didn't expect to hear this kind of words from a portrait.

“…None? With that face?”

“I've never experienced a confession either.”

“What about doing so?”

“I wasn't interested, so I didn't.”

“I think I can imagine the situation.”

Yoo Sung-woon laughed helplessly.

The context is the same as before. Even if they had feelings for him, the atmosphere was too heavy to confess, or they assumed that face already had a lover and backed off.

'… Judging from these remarks, it seems like he was once a human who then became a portrait.'

Considering the remarks that seem to indicate that he has experience in social life.

“Well….”

But still, it wouldn't be appropriate to ask about such things yet.

'I made him run away last time, too.'

Yoo Sung-woon decided to change the subject.

“More importantly, it seems like you don't go out much these days?”

“Aren't we having a conversation right now?”

“Not like this, there were times you actually went outside.”

Thanks to that, scary ghost stories were still circulating among the curators, but Yoo Sung-woon couldn't explain the truth behind the ghost story because Bi Sa-beol had kept it hushed.

“At that time, it seemed like you were almost going outside the gallery.”

“I apologize if I made you misunderstand, but I never intended to go out then either.”

“That’s unexpected. I thought you wanted to go out the gallery because your range of movement kept expanding.”

“I was just curious about how far the place I’m in was.”

“So now that you've checked all the way to the first floor, there's no need to go out?”

“That's part of it….”

The portrait looked down at Yoo Sung-woon.

“I originally tend to avoid active adventures in crowded places, and I'm trying to refrain from doing so as much as possible because I thought it’ll cause you all trouble.”

“…No, that was a really unexpected reason. Is that why you weren’t coming out? That's such a considerate decision.”

It would be great if other monsters or weapons with consciousness could learn from Gio's behaviour.

'I never expected to receive such consideration from a non-human. It would cause quite a stir if reported to the academy.'

Should he call it fascinating or remarkable? The portrait’s true identity was still unclear, but as a gardener, he was grateful for the luck to encounter such a special existence.

Seems all this consideration was possible because Gio thought of himself as human….

“Then, would you tell me your story now, Mr. Yoo Sung-woon?”

“…My story?”

“I feel like I've only talked about myself so far.”

“Oh, that's true.”

Yoo Sung-woon was convinced.

'Is this also be considered part of the 1:1 rule?'

It was a portrait that really liked fairness. Well, since he had been asking about the portrait's story, it was only natural to reciprocate, even without the rule.

“What should I talk about first….”

Yoo Sung-woon blinked as he picked a topic to bring out.

“…First of all, I’m a curator. I’m in charge of maintaining and managing the gallery of the guild leader here, Bi Sa-beol, but beside me, there are many curators here.”

“When you say gallery, does that mean you also sell artworks?”

“Sometimes, yes. This gallery houses the world's rarest and most dangerous items, so sometimes there are people buying the artworks here for subjugation or research purposes.”

Yoo Sung-woon sometimes also deals with explaining the artwork to such customers.

“That's why any artwork that no curator can explain is marked as not for sale without exception. Even though this gallery only collects the world's most dangerous items, if the customer gets harmed after buying it, the responsibility will ultimately fall on us.”

“Can you pretend not to know?”

“Even if we want to pretend not to know, we can't. It can escalate not just to legal disputes but also to armed conflicts, making things more complicated. Even if we have customers sign a contract saying 'we have warned you of the risks, you are to blame for any of the loss’ … we can't quell all the customer complaints.”

Moreover, curators who aren't highly skilled as hunters, could face direct retaliation. In fact, other companies have had several curators killed by hired assassins.

“The guild leader is very protective of his employees, so such things never happen here, but curators in other places frequently face retaliation.”

“Don't those companies come up with any measures?”

“Why would they? There are plenty of people wanting the job. It's cheaper to hire new employees than to protect the current ones, so most just leave it be.”

“Cold-hearted.”

“That's just how the world is.”

It might be disillusioning for the monster who seems to favour kindness, but it wasn't a big deal in the human world.

“Outside the city, people are already dying. There isn’t enough manpower to protect them, and monsters keep appearing … The rural areas, lacking proper infrastructure, are almost like nature itself.”

“The civilization level difference between cities and rural areas are almost a century apart, though there are people who prefer the countryside because they don't have to deal with all sorts of hardships or oppression.”

The portrait spoke bluntly.

“It's tiring.”

“Did I talk too much?”

“I meant that it's nice inside the painting.”

“I agree with that.”

Though he didn't know what the inside of the painting was like, it seemed much more peaceful than living in this dirty and harsh world.

Soon after, the portrait asked.

“So Mr. Yoo Sung-woon has been working as a curator all along?”

“Ah… that’s, no. I’ve only been employed for a few years.”

“If you don't mind, could you tell me what you did before?”

Could he tell even this?

After a moment of contemplation, Yoo Sung-woon soon confessed.

“I used to be a researcher.”

“That's an unexpected answer.”

“And before that, I was a gardener. I’m actually still a gardener now.”

“A gardener who manages a garden full of plants and flowers?”

“No, we manage the origin.”

In this world, there was the origin.

“Not sure how much you know, but there are things called dungeons on Earth. It’s a den of monsters made up of various themes….”

“Even though each is clearly on a different dimension, sometimes the same plants are found in separate dungeons. We call those 'children of the origin.'”

Plants of the same type are found in both dungeons filled with fire and cave dungeons.

Such occurrences happen even though the dungeons have no direct connection, and some researchers believe it's possible because it was a plant derived from the origin.

“Can you explain about the origin?”

“We don’t know the details either.”

But the origin was such an existence. The most fundamental concept at the bottom of all dimensions.

“If we think of it as a tree, the dungeons are the fruit and the monsters inside are the seeds, while the origin is the root of the tree.”

“In other words, we suspect that the power of the origin might be what creates dungeons.”

“Thank you for telling me such a fascinating story.”

“I find it fascinating, too.”

Yoo Sung-woon laughed casually and continued.

“The gardener analyzes, manages, and shares incidents that occur from the origin. It's similar to researchers who analyze the names and powers of new monsters that appear. It's also similar to geographical hunters who traverse dungeons and create new maps.”

“It seems unrelated, why are you called gardeners?”

“Hmm, well.”

Yoo Sung-woon blinked his blue eyes. It soon took on a slightly brighter colour.

“Some consider the origin as one garden.”

“… In reality, it’s also managed as a 'garden.'”

The portrait asked.

“A garden.”

“Yes, a garden.”

“Is it different from the origin?”

“It could be said as a part of the origin.”

Yoo Sung-woon answered faithfully.

“If you call a person the origin, the garden we talk about refers to parts like their blood vessels, nails, heart, or eyes.”

“It's vast and numerous. A very small number of gardeners with high aptitude are assigned one of those gardens each, but it's quite a challenging task….”

Yoo Sung-woon laughed as if sighing.

“Many die. It's a profession where it's hard to be at ease no matter what.”

“Is it something that someone has to do?”

“In the first place, once chosen by the origin, you must do the work, neglecting it sharply raises the difficulty level of many dungeons.”

“It’s scary.”

“… Even if you say it's scary, I can't tell… .”

Yoo Sung-woon scratched his ear, feeling as if he’d heard something unbelievable, and continued.

“I’m still a gardener. Becoming a gardener isn’t something one can choose on their own, so even though I’m currently working as a curator, I can’t throw away my qualifications as a gardener.”

“Is it hard?”

“A little?”

Yoo Sung-woon shrugged his shoulders.

“But it’s worth it.”

When he closed his eyes, he could see the vast snowy mountain. He could see the glaciers. Its grandeur captivates people.

“Having my own garden is pretty cool.”

Soon, the portrait responded.

“I understand.”

“Really?”

“I feel the same way.”

“I see.”

That’s how the conversation ended that day.

Though he wasn’t sure how the portrait felt about it, but at least for the gardener, it was quite an enjoyable time.

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