The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 237

Gio hadn’t just been sitting still all this time.

‘I’ve looked into the Moon Sect well enough.’

If the Church of the Sun was a sect that valued mercy and life, then the Moon Sect was one that prized knowledge and wisdom. A vast monastery that revered the great mystery called “Moon” as their master.

‘Even if the priests of the Moon Sect are academically passionate, they’re not about to probe into the mysteries of someone who’s a complete stranger... They probably still think I requested a solitary room just to stabilize my mystic condition.’

Gio smiled slyly.

“Well, not that I needed it.”

It wasn’t as though he’d actually taken a real hit and coughed up blood.

“My son, don’t you think Miss Joo-Hyun will recognize my effort now? I followed her advice so faithfully—it’s an adorably sincere thing, isn’t it?”

“Pff...”

“What? Why? I really did my best, you know? Don’t you think this much is enough for the Moon Sect to stop questioning ‘Sergio the Hunter’ too deeply?”

“Pff pff pff.”

“I mean, I’m a portrait...”

“Pff.”

“So cute and stubborn.”

Argio grumbled under his breath. When it came to day-to-day acting, maybe he wasn’t so sure, but dramatic flair? That was definitely Argio’s domain more than Giovanni’s—thus the dominant personality at the moment leaned toward Argio.

Gio gently stroked the round Honey and blinked.

“......”

And then his face dimmed. With an expressionless face, Gio tilted his head.

“...Right. There’s no way the side effects of what I did wouldn’t have been reported to the collector. Miss Joo-Hyun is probably worried. I should contact her in advance to ease her mind.”

Frankly, aside from her, there was no one else in the Collector’s Guild who would worry about Gio’s condition. The red liquid—yes, it was technically blood—but to Gio, it was nothing more than paint. And the collector’s people understood that perfectly.

And then Yoo Seong-Woon came charging in.

“You said you were hurt!!”

“......”

“Are you really okay? You’re not pushing your body too hard? I mean, you never said anything like this before going to the Moon Sect. The bishop there was acting so deferentially, I figured something was off, and now this—!!”

“...Mr. Yoo Seong-Woon.”

“Want me to get you anything? I heard you managed everything on your own, but are you sure you don’t need medicine?”

“I’ve just realized something.”

“All of a sudden?”

“Yes.”

Gio brushed his chin as he looked at Seong-Woon, who had come all the way to the Moon Sect’s solitary room.

“You’re just as greedy as I am.”

This man wasn’t easy either.

“Of course, I respect you for that, Mr. Yoo Seong-Woon.”

“...Thanks, I guess, but that was so sudden and kind of alarming...”

“But haven’t I handled this better than you expected? After all this, no one will suspect my true identity. At most, it’ll just reinforce [N O V E L I G H T] the theory that Hunter Sergio is the Saint in the Black Cloak.”

“That’s true.”

With a sigh, Seong-Woon nodded, as if he’d never come in looking so panicked.

“That part really was well done.”

“Greedy.”

“Huh...?”

“From now on, you’re not allowed to criticize me.”

“I don’t know what I did, but if I’m being compared to you, isn’t that kind of serious?”

“I’m just saying.”

He was just as unpredictable as Gio was.

***

Though what he’d expected turned out to be irrelevant, everything else played out exactly as Gio predicted.

The Collector handled the Moon Sect’s message—that Hunter Sergio had pushed himself too hard while helping the Saintess—with total composure.

“Ah, I see.”

“......”

So composed, in fact, that the Moon Sect priest delivering the news seemed visibly flustered.

“...We’re not trying to avoid responsibility for the incident, but you’re surprisingly calm despite the news of Hunter Sergio’s injury. Has something like this happened often before?”

“I’m afraid we can’t disclose too much on that matter. While Hunter Sergio may not react strongly, we still need to protect the personal information of our hunters.”

“I understand.”

The Moon Sect priest had mixed feelings.

‘I thought the Collector cherished him like a precious son.’

At this point, Hunter Sergio held immense value. Even within the Moon Sect, there was whispering about how unusually willing he’d been to accept their request—especially given his notoriously mysterious persona.

Above all, he was the one Bisa Beul was rumored to “lock up in the Gallery.” For someone like that to cough up blood helping the Saintess—one would expect at least some visible concern.

‘I know the Collector’s Guild members don’t get overly emotional about each other’s injuries, but...’

Something felt off.

“Ahem.”

The priest cleared his throat and bowed again.

“It’s shameful that such an honored guest has fallen ill under our watch. As a priest of the Moon, my brothers and I will do everything in our power to repay this debt. We’d like to speak with Hunter Sergio directly, so we’re here to ask if we might delay repayment for now.”

“If that’s the matter, we’ll gladly accept it. What matters most to us is what Hunter Sergio thinks. Since his closest manager is not from our guild, we’ll follow whatever course he deems necessary.”

Again, something felt off.

‘What kind of attitude is this?’

It wasn’t the dry “trust” said to be common among the Collector’s Guild—it felt more like neglect, as if Hunter Sergio’s condition didn’t matter at all. The priest grew increasingly uneasy.

‘I was certain he was someone they treated with reverence...’

Even in a professional setting, the Collector could’ve expressed outrage. If they wanted to extract maximum compensation for Sergio’s injuries, showing anger would’ve been strategically sound.

“......”

The priest felt increasingly uneasy but bowed in gratitude. It wasn’t his place to criticize—he was a priest of the Moon Sect, not part of their guild.

“As expected of the guild Hunter Sergio belongs to—so full of grace. But I do worry that we might unknowingly commit a greater offense to him.”

“There’s no need to worry. The Moon Sect only needs to prioritize Hunter Sergio’s wishes. Our Guild Master instructed me personally to say that.”

“Thank you for your understanding. Then...”

The two spoke a bit longer, then parted just as calmly as they had met. Yet the Moon Sect priest frowned slightly on his way back.

“Did the Collector get angry?”

“...No, it was fine.”

They had managed to resolve a massive issue that had been quietly festering within the Moon Sect. The younger priest, who feared the Collector might pull Hunter Sergio away in anger, was relieved.

“They said they would leave all matters to Hunter Sergio’s discretion—his treatment, the debt we owe, everything else as well.”

“That’s a surprisingly generous arrangement. They say Hunter Sergio holds a high position in the Collector’s Guild... I suppose it’s true. Thank goodness. The Saintess can finally begin to recover.”

“It certainly is fortunate, but...”

Suddenly, the priest realized something.

“...Ah, I see now.”

The Collector didn’t see Hunter Sergio as human.

‘The treatment is lavish, but something always felt wrong... and now I understand why.’

That “lavish treatment” was itself the contradiction. Because they didn’t see him as a person, even their intense attachment came off as eerie and unsettling.

‘I suppose it makes sense... it’s the Collector, after all.’

In any case, the Moon Sect couldn’t exactly blame them.

“Let’s return to the temple.”

“The Saintess should begin to recover now, right?”

“Haha, of course. Didn’t Hunter Sergio work a miracle?”

“It would’ve been better if we could’ve resolved this internally... but really, thank goodness. If another saintly figure like Hunter Sergio supports us, then perhaps someday, even our Saintess will...”

“This isn’t something we should be discussing here.”

“...I’ve said something foolish.”

“I understand how you feel. It’s fine.”

They, too, could no longer see their Saintess as fully human.

‘Perhaps this is simply the fate of saints... the road they must walk.’

It would be good to gather more data, but even globally, saints were not common. The priest found himself wishing he could write a paper on their sacred mysteries—but it wouldn’t be easy.

With a hint of regret, the priests returned to the Moon Sect.

***

As Yoo Seong-Woon left, Joo-Hyun entered.

“Mr. Gio.”

“I was wrong.”

“You told me it was okay to let you go alone, and I trusted you.”

“I thought the matter with the Saintess would be quite off-putting for your sensibilities...”

“You already said that last time.”

Gio hadn’t worried much about Joo-Hyun’s safety, since he wasn’t awakened, but he had worried about his mental well-being.

To someone like Joo-Hyun—who always looked at Gio and Seong-Woon’s conversations like, “what kind of nonsense is this”—the Moon Sect’s situation would’ve been unbearably uncomfortable.

That’s why Gio had gone alone.

“If I’d known you’d worry this much, I would’ve brought you along from the start.”

“I’m relieved you weren’t actually sick... But knowing this was your best attempt at deception still leaves me stunned and bitter.”

Joo-Hyun said he felt like his lifespan had been cut short by ten years.

“Well, it was a portrait... a painting... so I guess anything’s possible...”

“I only realized how much it would shock you after I’d already done it. I was quite careless. I apologize.”

“Uh... This might sound odd, but your tone’s gotten really stiff—like Mr. San.”

“This started a little while ago. My speech patterns have definitely become unnatural. The assimilation is nearly complete...”

“Ah.”

Joo-Hyun understood now how Gio’s portrait form mimicked humanity.

The human “Gio” would be followed by the portrait emulating his status and behavior. Once that human dignity was consumed by the mystic, it would be time to find a new “Gio.”

So this current stiff tone meant that the portrait-to-human ratio was tipping toward the portrait.

“So, are you looking for a new ‘Gio’?”

“Surely not.”

Giovanni looked genuinely taken aback.

“I haven’t even started the Demon King project yet, Mr. Joo-Hyun...”

“I trust you blocked out sound, but to say that openly inside the Moon Sect—I seriously don’t know what to do with you.”

“You seem to be doing just fine.”

“...Ahem. So what are you planning next?”

“I need to care for the Saintess.”

Joo-Hyun nodded.

“Not thinking of coming back right away?”

“Father is taking good care of the hut.”

“So no corridor meetings for now.”

“I’d like to become friends with the Saintess first.”

“Still can’t tell if you’re introverted or extroverted...”

“Maybe neither?”

He liked his home, and he liked his friends.

“I think I can be good friends with the Saintess.”

“She’s quite young, isn’t she...?”

“Age is no barrier to friendship.”

“Usually, it is.”

“Oh, come on.”

And out came Argio.

“I just want to make a friend—why so many objections?”

“See? In the end, it’s all because of that Demon King thing.”

“My social behavior is neither crude nor worldly, thank you. And besides, Mr. Joo-Hyun, you’re gravely misunderstanding me.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“You’ve got the order reversed.”

Gio declared proudly.

“I’m not making friends to become a Demon King—I’m becoming a Demon King while making friends!”

“......”

There weren’t many possible reactions Joo-Hyun could offer to that.

“...Got it.”

Just like always.

***

“......”

Hhhh... hhhh...

Steady breaths.

“......”

The bishop of the Moon Sect looked down at the sleeping Saintess.

“...Poor child.”

You survived again.

With a cold hand, she brushed the girl’s youthful face, then quietly stepped out of the room.

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