The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 155

“How is it?”

At Bisa Beul’s question, Yoo Seong-Woon gave a small shrug.

“As you predicted.”

“You say that like you know exactly what I predicted.”

“I trust the Guild Leader’s eye.”

At that faith, Bisa Beul gave his signature sly smile.

“But you don’t trust me as a person, I suppose?”

“I’ve long known you have no shame.”

“How cold-hearted.”

“Please, I’m exhausted.”

“Then I’d better make this quick.”

Bisa Beul tapped the desk lightly with his ringed fingers—tok tok tok.

“I already knew he wouldn’t be easy to tempt.”

They were talking about Joo-Hyun.

“Even if the easy path is right in front of him, if he thinks it’s an unfair advantage, he won’t touch it.”

“He seems a little foolish that way. But I suppose he has some kind of personal conviction.”

“In a way, it’s like he’s a Confucian scholar from Joseon-era Korea.”

“...Can I take that as a compliment?”

“That’s up to you. I’m simply saying he’s rigid.”

“Well, that kind of uprightness must’ve appealed to Gio.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“He never once tried to take advantage of Gio.”

“Not that Gio would allow himself to be dulled by such petty greed.”

“I wouldn’t say greed is petty.”

Human desire was never so simple.

Shame is something crafted by consciousness. Greed is instinct. When something as incomprehensible and divine as Gio declares itself your friend, it’s only natural to want something in return.

Greed is born of instinct, not guilt.

“Gio, in many ways, stands at the top. Even his ‘Sergio’ persona holds more power and status than Joo-Hyun. Gio uses incredibly rare elixirs—things humans would kill for—just to make meals. It’s... excessive.”

So it wouldn’t have been surprising if—

“Joo-Hyun had expectations. That something precious to Gio is as trivial as a pebble in someone’s yard, so taking it shouldn’t be a burden to either side.”

And it’s not like Joo-Hyun was wealthy. Even if he wasn’t born greedy, hardship and exhaustion eventually spark need—and need becomes hunger.

“He worked at the Association for a long time, but maybe because of his orphanage background—or some other reason—he remained stuck in a deputy role. Promotions came late.”

“What little he had, he gave away—either to support his orphanage or to charity.”

“And from what I’ve seen, he has almost no monetary ambition. He sees money as a useful tool, sure, but not as an object of greed. A rare kind of integrity.”

Yoo Seong-Woon crossed his arms.

“Gio and you both referred to him as a hero. Considering that, I can understand why he seems almost entirely free from financial desire.”

The nature of heroes is something one is born with—instinctual.

“But even so...”

Joo-Hyun did have something he wanted. Something he longed for.

“He may not crave wealth, but he’s still human. He has desires. I’ve heard he holds a remarkably firm goal—he wants to bring peace to the world.”

“And that, in itself, makes him a person full of ambition. It’s just that his desire doesn’t serve his own comfort—Joo-Hyun’s ambition flows in a selfless direction, at least from an objective perspective.”

“Yes, it’s exactly that: selfless desire. If you want to change the world outside yourself, you can still call it selfish—just aimed at others.”

“That’s why I don’t like Joo-Hyun. We’re still in that awkward early phase of friendship, so I’m polite for now—but if we got closer, he’d use Sergio for his idealism in no time.”

“Do you really think Gio would fall for that? More likely, Gio would choose to offer mercy and goodwill to a mere human. And that, too, would please Gio. Honestly, I’m not worried.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“Gio’s not the kind of being humans need to worry for.”

“Ahh, my masterpiece...”

“He’s more than a masterpiece, Guild Leader. He’s an Origin. Let him go.”

The obsessions of a collector...

“Joo-Hyun won’t exploit Gio for his own benefit. It’s impossible, and besides, there’s very little Joo-Hyun could even ask of Gio.”

Yoo Seong-Woon offered his typical quiet smile.

“Not nothing, of course.”

“He probably wishes Gio would show mercy to the souls of the dead.”

“More likely, he’s simply aware of the possibility.”

“After all, gods do have power over life and death.”

“Having recently lost family and friends, it’s something Joo-Hyun must have thought about.”

Though Gio had been introduced as a dark god, he came across as deeply merciful. And when one thinks of gods, dominion over the dead is only natural.

In the frame, receiving the benevolence of the Portrait, Joo-Hyun must’ve wondered: If such mercy could touch my lost family and friends—how wonderful that would be.

“Especially when he believes their deaths were his fault. The debt he feels must be immense.”

“He wants to atone somehow, and repay what he owes. But he doesn’t seem to have chosen Gio as the shortcut.”

“He seems to believe—because the tragedy was his doing—he must bear the responsibility alone. Even if Gio is a god, even if he possesses terrifying power...”

“Even if they’ve now become friends—he refuses to lean on Sergio.”

Bisa Beul sneered.

“As if a mere human could repay the dead. What can the living do for those who’ve passed? At best, all we can do is remember their deaths—and our sins—over and over again.”

“But isn’t that intention itself meaningful?”

“Maybe he even believes that constant guilt and repentance can be enough to pay the debt. Maybe he needs to believe that. But to walk such a thorny path, willingly?”

Bisa Beul twisted his lips, as if he were looking at something pathetic.

“It’s all because Joo-Hyun has such a narrow view of the world.”

“For someone narrow, he carries quite the grand ambition.”

“He just lacks humanity.”

“I suppose you could say that...”

“He’s just an idiot who doesn’t know how to lean on others.”

“Now that’s going a bit far.”

Yoo Seong-Woon tried to soothe his guild leader.

“Still, he’s Gio’s new friend. Can’t you be a bit kinder?”

“The older I get, the more stubborn I become.”

Bisa Beul smirked.

“He’s not unintelligent. He understands the usefulness of connections. If anything, he’s quite cunning. He knows how to calculate. And yet, he behaves like a monk, castrating all worldly desires to chase his ideals.”

“Isn’t that good for humanity?”

“As I always say, I don’t care about humanity’s interests. What matters is the effect he’ll have on me and my collection. And if he’s truly committed, he’ll ruin my masterpiece without hesitation.”

Bisa Beul grumbled.

“I’ll admit, yes—humans like him make the world a little more peaceful... but they’re also boring.”

“You say things like humanity’s villain with such ease.”

“Joo-Hyun’s not free of greed. When it comes to fulfilling his ideals, he’s more greedy than anyone. He’s ravenous. Doesn’t care what people say. Doesn’t care how he’s seen. He just pushes forward.”

Bisa Beul curled his lips again.

“When people like that cause problems, they cause big problems.”

“I won’t deny that, but Gio already stopped the worst of it, didn’t he?”

“In any case, he’s not the kind of person who’ll be a real threat to Sergio.”

Bisa Beul let out a rare sigh—laced with irritation.

“He just annoys me.”

“You really do dislike him.”

“I prefer our guild members.”

“Yeah, well...”

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed awkwardly. He genuinely admired his superior, so it wasn’t a completely forced smile.

“We like you too, Guild Leader.”

“You say that so rarely, it’s even sweeter.”

“Oh, for god’s sake.”

Even that smile faded as Yoo Seong-Woon grimaced.

“This is why we can’t give you compliments.”

“I love that arrogance. Be bolder. Mm, delicious.”

“Ugh.”

“Well, I’m relieved things turned out as expected.”

Bisa Beul smiled cleanly.

“Great powers often favor poor heroes.”

“Poor heroes...”

“They churn out mythic tales by the dozen.”

His bright yellow eyes narrowed.

“I imagine Gio feels the same about Joo-Hyun.”

“By protocol, he’ll be giving him a gift soon. Should I prepare in advance?”

“If it’s a gift from Sergio, expect some noise. He’s not the type who’s unaware of how the world sees him.”

“Still, he’s long overdue to truly explore the human world. I’ll alert the press in advance.”

“And prepare to be very, very busy. I don’t think Sergio would bring disaster, out of respect.”

“Though divine favor often feels like a disaster... What kind of affection do you think Gio will show?”

“Oh, that’s obvious.”

Bisa Beul smiled like a grandfather watching his favorite grandchild.

“He’ll make him human.”

“...Is that the end—or the beginning?”

“Both, I think.”

“Gio always liked humanity.”

His kindness had always been given equally.

“Well, except the ones he didn’t like. But I suppose he categorized those as ‘not human.’”

Yoo Seong-Woon rubbed his neck.

“To Gio, death is just another state a human can be in, right?”

“You’re correct, Curator Yoo.”

“Then he’ll treat living and dead humans the same—with grace.” ƒгeewёbnovel.com

“You’re thinking it through well.”

“In the end, Gio will... treat even the dead—”

Yoo Seong-Woon’s hand, lowering from his neck, trembled faintly.

“—like gentlemen.”

When Gio gives a gift to a human, it’s a law unto itself.

“I understand what I need to do now.”

“I look forward to your handling of it, Curator Yoo.”

“May you enjoy the performance.”

Excessive kindness from the divine often drives mortals to fear.

And drawing that terror back into the ordinary—that is the role of the gardener.

***

“I want to give you a gift.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Is that a presumptuous thought?”

“Uh...”

Joo-Hyun blinked at the portrait that had appeared unannounced at the orphanage.

“.......”

Okay. Deep breaths.

‘I can handle this.’

He forced a smile.

“...I see! And what kind of gift are we talking about, exactly?”

“I’m sorry. It seems I let my feelings get ahead of me.”

“No, not at all. I mean, I was a little surprised, but not offended.”

He had merely experienced a level of fear comparable to the threat of death.

‘Does he really have no idea how terrifying he looks?’

It was near midnight. A scorched, abandoned building in a remote, damp area of the city. The air was thick with soot and traces of death, the aftermath of a fire. Joo-Hyun had been searching for belongings left behind in the orphanage.

Relying on a single flashlight, he had been walking through the dim halls when the portrait appeared—nestled among cheerful children’s drawings, its face obscured by thick black paint. And then it spoke.

“I want to give you a gift.”

Joo-Hyun felt proud of himself for not screaming. That alone was an accomplishment worthy of praise.

“Let me ask again... What exactly do you mean by a gift?”

He didn’t bother with the stupid question of how Gio had found him. A being as immense as Black Cloak wouldn’t have trouble tracking down a mere human. Instead, he focused on interpreting the situation.

“As far as I know, Black Cloak only gives back what he’s received.”

“If something is given, it’s only natural to return it.”

“I’ve also heard he sometimes appears to random passersby and gives them gifts.”

“That is simply gratitude for having interacted with me.”

At that, Joo-Hyun couldn’t help but nod slightly.

‘I guess it must count as something big enough to warrant thanks.’

Black Cloak was said to appear in remote places and offer gifts to those who performed good deeds. To meet a humanoid monster right after doing something kind must be a shocking experience.

In that sense, the gifts made sense—as a form of compensation. Another one-to-one law °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° by which “Gio’s Portrait” seemed to function.

“...?”

Joo-Hyun tilted his head.

“But I didn’t give you anything, Mr. Gio.”

“It’s a thank-you for being my friend.”

“I see...”

Maybe it was a kind of collector’s impulse.

Did he really just... want a “human friend” that badly? As he pondered how little he understood the way beings like Gio thought, the portrait—its eyes hidden behind paint—spoke again.

“More than anything, I wanted to give a gift to someone kind like you.”

“Hmm... But I don’t think I’ve ever done anything kind in front of you, have I?”

“Even so, it seems many people have been helped by your actions.”

“And that’s reason enough to give me a gift?”

“It is my selfish desire to return the joy you’ve given me.”

“.......”

“That’s why I came to ask your permission.”

It took Joo-Hyun a moment to respond.

“...Joy?”

“Yes.”

“You felt joy.”

He gave a faint, awkward smile.

“So what I’ve done... brought you joy.”

It was a very strange feeling.

“I think... I’ve felt something like that from you before too. Funny, isn’t it?”

It might’ve sounded ridiculous, but to Joo-Hyun, the words of Black Cloak were oddly comforting. There was a quiet warmth in knowing that such a vast being acknowledged his efforts.

It almost sounded like a way of saying You weren’t wrong. Thank you.

“Ha...”

Suddenly, he wanted a reward.

‘What a shameless thought. How dare I, who did what I did purely out of will, expect anything in return...’

A quiet sigh, masquerading as a chuckle, escaped his lips. He felt a weariness so deep it seemed to melt his bones. To hide the blank expression trying to surface, he pressed his palm firmly to his forehead.

“So, what kind of gift do you intend to give me? This is my third time asking, I think.”

“Oh dear. It seems I let myself ramble. My apologies.”

The portrait continued in its usual flat, unreadable tone.

“I could offer you a fine medicine. A delicious meal. A gem of your choosing, drawn just for you. Or I could sit and chatter with you.”

At that moment, a gemstone-furred cat leapt softly into the portrait’s embrace.

“It seems Dana has taken quite an interest in you.”

“...I’m honored.”

“Those gifts I mentioned are simply ones I can offer as a friend.”

“That’s an honor, too.”

“So... would you be willing to tell me what it is you truly want?”

The portrait said,

“So that my gift may be worth its weight.”

“.......”

After a long silence, Joo-Hyun finally spoke.

“...I don’t know.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t want anything. Or maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he shouldn’t.

If he wanted to remain who he was—just a human, aware of his place—then that was the only answer.

“Just calling me your friend is already... more than enough.”

“I know that you were born without worldly greed.”

“What I want most right now is to atone for what happened to my family and friends...”

“But you believe that’s something you must do alone.”

“I believe it has to be.”

“There is no such thing as ‘right.’”

The portrait whispered in a voice that felt like it was sliding into his ear.

“There is only what one believes to be right.”

It sounded very much like the kind of temptation a dark god would offer.

“...Do you want me to ask for your help?”

“I want you to see things from a new perspective.”

“I want to apologize to my family and friends.”

That, he had to do.

“But I don’t want to escape from this guilt.”

“Because I believe I must be bound to it in order to atone.”

“If I overcome even this... I’ll end up forgetting what I did.”

“You won’t forget. You’re not that kind of person.”

“If I don’t reflect on it, how am I any different from a beast?”

“Even beasts have their own nature.”

The portrait’s voice turned languid, sleepy.

“You’re not a beast.”

“.......”

“What is it you truly wish for?”

“...I...”

“Put away words like ‘atonement.’”

“Just say what you really want.”

Standing in the ashes of what his family left behind, Joo-Hyun spoke.

“I want them to be at peace... even if they had to die.”

That was his honest desire.

“I don’t care if I carry the weight of their deaths for the rest of my life—just, I don’t want them to be in pain.”

“Do you want them to rest somewhere warm and happy?”

“I do. They weren’t perfect, or saints. They were just ordinary people...”

“But because they were your family and friends, you want them to be at peace.”

“I know it’s a selfish wish. I know it’s a stretch.”

After a pause, Joo-Hyun continued.

“But you’re a dark god, right?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Would you honor that selfishness?”

“You did well.”

The portrait’s lips stretched wide into a smile, full of quiet joy.

“Will you need time to prepare your heart?”

“...A little, yes.”

“Then I’ll send your gift soon.”

“What do I need to do?”

“You don’t know what a gift is, do you?”

A sound came, like a predator grinning.

“Just... observe, my friend.”

Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

“.......”

But nestled in the portrait’s arms, Dana’s gemstone eyes gleamed—brighter than the moon.