The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 120

Sergio was a warm and old-fashioned person.

‘I never thought I would feel such an embarrassing feeling when I see someone.’

But it was a thought that came to mind when I saw him.

“Today’s snack was star candy.”

“Yes, each of us had purple, yellow, and green star candy.”

“Isn’t it really sweet?”

“According to the records... they only asked for sweet snacks.”

“Last time, you wanted lemon madeleines.”

It wasn’t a very meaningful conversation. Although he didn’t stop them from reporting it on the radio, Sergio naturally brushed aside the strange phenomenon of the ‘Sweet Tea Party’ by saying, ‘You’ll have luck beyond the norm.’

The conversation we were having now was more like ordinary small talk. Thanks to this, the man was able to feel a little closer to the ‘Sweet Tea Party.’

“I even baked it for them myself.”

“I guess you’re good at cooking.”

“You have a knack for bringing imaginary food into reality.”

“I’m a little jealous of that.”

Is this the power of a good person? As the conversation continued, my stiff body gradually loosened up.

‘...This conversation gives me a sense of stability.’

It wasn’t a conversation with anything special, but Sergio’s attitude toward the man gave me that sense of stability.

Even though he didn’t do anything particularly noticeable, I could tell that Sergio was showing deep favor.

‘I heard you talked to another new employee last time. Are you managing your employees or something?’

It was a huge favor that was hard to understand.

“...Do you talk to other employees like this often?”

The man continued.

“I heard you don’t stay at the company for long.”

“I live in a place that’s easier to find than you think.”

“Oh, by any chance... In that case... Yes, do you live in the dorm?”

“I live in this building.”

“It’s such a big building, I didn’t even realize it had such a facility.”

The man understood. It seemed like there were quite a few collectors hanging around. That was clear.

‘Well, if it’s someone with this kind of atmosphere...’

It was easy to understand the psychology of the guild leader, Bisabal.

‘It seems like it will disappear quietly at any moment.’

Sergio seemed somewhat detached from reality.

His voice was soft and gentle, like the sunlight spreading faintly on a spring day. His gaze was clear, but its color was soft and blurred, and his attitude toward people was polite yet cautious, giving off a sense of slow lightness.

His soft speech and the faint smile on his face that never seemed to disappear seemed like a faded memory from a children’s fairy tale or a silent movie.

“.......”

Is that too explicit a thought for someone you’re meeting for the first time?

‘... But he doesn’t seem like someone who would be tied down somewhere.’

But he didn’t seem like someone who would enjoy a noisy atmosphere.

‘His actions are noble, and his atmosphere is heavy...’

He suddenly disappeared, wandered the world, appeared in unexpected places, gave unexpected gifts, and disappeared. It felt a little strange because he seemed like such an absurdly romantic being.

He had an indescribable aura. I couldn’t believe that he was there next to me and spoke to me.

“.......”

“Do you like sweets?”

“...To some extent.”

“I like sweets too.”

Was this unconditional empathy?

‘Part of socializing?’

Without even a moment to think, the other person held out a small snack.

“Would you like some?”

“...What is this?”

“Lemon madeleine.”

“.......”

At that moment.

“...Thank you.”

I thought it was strange.

‘I don’t know what’s strange, but... .’

Didn’t we just bring up the lemon madeleine story?

Since you said you enjoy cooking, it must have been a snack you made yourself or bought somewhere.

However, the lemon madeleine that suddenly appeared during the conversation was wrapped in white paper that was faintly transparent and decorated with a neat black ribbon that was not flashy.

The madeleine, wrapped in elegant paper and emitting a sweet scent, suited the porcelain dolls in ‘Sweet Tea Party’ more than them. However, the black ribbon, which was just used to organize the entrance, seemed to have a bitter taste rather than sweet.

“.......”

Crunch.

He took out the madeleine.

“...Did you make it yourself?”

“It’s my pleasure.”

“You’re really good with your hands.”

To be honest, I couldn’t imagine the process of the person in front of me baking and packaging this.

‘...Rather....’

It literally felt like he could make it.

Just because he wanted it, it seemed to be in his hands.

‘... You’ve been thinking strange thoughts since earlier. I don’t think delusions are going to help at all.’

The madeleines were smaller than I thought, as if they were made from scratch. The lemon madeleine crust, which had a white coating like opaque frost, had a crispy yet crunchy texture.

The madeleines, which had a faint scent of trees on a rainy day, were lighter and softer than I thought.

“...It’s delicious.”

For some reason, the tension that had made my body stiffen up again was completely relieved, and it was just that delicious.

“Actually, I didn’t believe that you were a good cook.”

“That’s sad. Why did you think that?”

“You don’t look like you’d get your hands wet.”

“That’s what I hear often.”

“That’s the impression you have. But....”

It wasn’t like they didn’t match at all.

“...You look like you go well with anything.”

He seemed capable of anything.

He seemed to have ascended to the highest position of the Pope, and he seemed to have ascended to the lowest and most humble position of the rabble. But no matter where he truly was, the man had a feeling that he could accept it all.

Even if it was an unimaginable rejection, even if it was a carnation child born in a slum on a cold winter day. Yes, you would certainly think that he could.

“...Why is that....”

Well.

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a strange statement.”

“...I see.”

But one thing was certain.

“.......”

No matter what his status was, no one seemed to be able to hold him back.

Just as time passed and the world changed.

‘...I should stop thinking about it.’

Enough now.

The man stared blankly into space.

“.......”

There was a lot to do, so it was time to get out of this terrible comfort.

“...Time... is later than I thought.”

It was already 6 AM.

“I don’t think we had much of a conversation.”

“It was a pleasant conversation.”

“...I’m glad you felt that way.”

At that moment, a new presence was felt.

“Geo?”

It was Curator Yoo Seong-woon.

“Are you awake?”

“Yes, Mr. Yoo Seong-woon.”

The two talked naturally as if they knew each other well.

“I was talking to this person.”

“Oh, I wondered who you were, but you’re Curator Binary.”

Yoo Seong-woon didn’t say anything more as he nodded. He seemed to be good at dealing with people, and he looked back at Sergio as if he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“What did we talk about?”

“It was about how he couldn’t believe I was good at cooking.”

“Oh, really? I thought it would suit me pretty well... Your cooking is really delicious.”

Curator Yoo Seong-woon asked in his characteristically indifferent tone.

“It’s already past 6 AM. The staff will be here soon, are you going to stay in the gallery?”

“No, I’m going to go back before the other staff arrive.”

Under the falling lights, the man’s blue eyes were filled with tears.

“What are you going to do, Binary?”

“I’m going back to the dormitory, which the company provided....”

“Is that Binary’s house?”

“It seems more like a place to stay than a house.”

“You’ll soon have a comfortable house.”

He showed his favor again.

“Do you need guidance?”

“.......”

Without realizing it.

“.......”

The man looked around the gallery ‘without realizing it.’

I looked at the porcelain doll 『Sweet Tea Party』 that I was in charge of. I looked at the glass curtain of the picture frame hanging next to it and in front of it. I looked at the light from the ceiling and the clock hanging between them.

I looked at the floor where the light fell. In the vertically falling light, there was a shadow. A black color that was missing... .

“.......”

I looked.

“...No.”

I raised my head, and suddenly my eyes met with Curator Yoo Seong-un’s.

“It’s okay.”

His eyes curved sharply and showed a smile.

“I’ve memorized the entire layout of this gallery.”

“I see.”

“I’ll go out alone.”

“Thank you for sharing your conversation with me.”

The man in the black cloak said.

“I remember you and affirm you.”

“.......”

“Have a nice day.”

It was a strange echo.

“.......”

The man nodded and left the gallery.

“.......”

I passed through the twisted hallway in case of an unexpected situation.

The lights hanging from the ceiling created shadows along with my footsteps. The shadows moved several times before I finally arrived at the elevator.

The boarding point was the 3rd basement floor. The exit point was the 1st floor lobby. I pressed the button and the elevator started.

“.......”

I muttered without realizing it.

“...What a peculiar person.”

Even though I only saw him briefly, time passed quickly. Even though I only saw him briefly, it was like that. It could happen.

Despite his rather large physique, his presence was very vague, and he didn’t seem to be there even though he was right next to me. Even so, I couldn’t help but notice his presence, which was not hidden.

“He seemed like a great person.”

He was affectionate and old-fashioned.

It was as if he had become an adult and was shining like a prince in a fairy tale, and now he was as old as an old historical relic buried in the ground, and he was special like a miracle that no one remembered.

“A person who gives comfort....”

Why did a rural village I had never seen come to mind? Why did I hear the sound of dry grass rustling in the quiet wind?

I felt a longing similar to when I admired the crimson color of the sea as the sun set calmly, or when I heard a lullaby that parents sang to their children to put them to sleep. It was simple and lyrical.

So.

“He’s a good person.”

The man didn’t know anything.

“Yeah....”

The one-hour gap that must have been a delusion.

The one-hour gap that flowed from my bare feet.

The sound of dry grass.

The shadow that didn’t exist alone under the light, or the huge forest reflected on the glass that coated the frame.

The sun.

The sea.

The eyeball.

The eyes.

The eyes.

“.......”

Even the gaze that the eyes reflected on the glass sent, I don’t know.

I don’t know.

“...He’s a good person.”

Because ‘Sergio’ /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ is a ‘good person.’

That’s how it had to be.