The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 306

“To be precise, the correct term would be ‘Child of the Origin,’ but usually we just lump it all together under the name ‘mystery.’ Most of the strange ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) phenomena or beings we see fall under that.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled as he asked,

“Any questions so far?”

“You’ve barely said a few words, and you’re already offering a chance to ask?”

“We need to cram in the gardener’s knowledge quickly so I can eventually explain our ultimate goal. Even if that weren’t the case, this is a session introducing concepts you’ve never even imagined before, so it’s better to lay the groundwork thoroughly through Q&A. So?”

“...Mystery, at least... I have heard that term a few times.”

Cha Eun-Hyeok asked in a hesitant tone.

“It’s something you hear often in religions related to gods.”

“Divinity can also be considered a type of mystery.”

“Wait, if you put it that way, shouldn’t dungeons and monsters be considered mysteries too?”

“Oh? You’re already grasping the essence. You’ve got potential.”

“...? Seriously? Even those are considered mysteries?”

“They differ slightly, but ultimately they’re all beings within the same stream.”

Yoo Seong-Woon continued his explanation.

“Mysteries can be expressed as fate, rules, or stories. In most cases, they don’t go beyond those three frameworks. Let me give you the example I mentioned earlier—the ‘One-Eyed Jindo.’”

He pulled out a translucent pad and showed a drawing of the One-Eyed Jindo. It was as detailed as a photograph.

“This is the image of the One-Eyed Jindo drawn by a gardener. Does it match what you remember, Mr. Cha?” 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

“Ah, yes. Mine was black, though...”

“There’s an explanation about the black one included as well. The color has different meanings.”

“So that depends on the meaning too. I mean, if it’s just a dog, the color difference wouldn’t really matter...”

“When it comes to mysteries, even a single color must be reacted to sensitively. Everything has meaning. The black Jindo maintains distance instead of staying close to the protected one. It judged that it could protect from afar without issue. Seems it matured early?”

“...Is that a real dog? Or the soul of a dog?”

“No, it’s a mystery mimicking what Koreans call a native Jindo dog.”

Yoo Seong-Woon showed images of the One-Eyed Jindo in three different colors.

“Among mysteries, some especially follow ‘stories.’ In such cases, they usually just take the form of the story or repeat actions from it. They’re completely different from the Jindo dog you know.”

“Mimicking... Then why just one eye? Couldn’t it have copied more accurately?”

“It’s just mimicry, as I said. It can’t be a perfect original. That’s why these types of mysteries always have noticeable differences from the source. Like the vertical eye planted directly in the center of the forehead.”

“......”

Cha Eun-Hyeok unconsciously looked at ‘Sergio Hunter.’ It tilted its head.

“Is there something wrong with me?”

“Ah, no. Nothing.”

Yoo Seong-Woon said to Cha Eun-Hyeok,

“He’s an exception.”

“An exception, huh.”

“A very big one. So I’d prefer you didn’t use him as a reference. This guy’s way too advanced for you to be studying right now.”

“I’ll keep your advice in mind.”

“Alright, let’s get back to it.”

Yoo Seong-Woon pointed again to the image of the One-Eyed Jindo.

“These are mysteries mimicking the story of a Jindo that protects its master. With few exceptions, they only protect children under about 7 years old. From what’s been observed, they range from as young as 1 to about 13. After that, they disappear or move on to a new charge. That’s their destiny.”

He smiled faintly.

“The dungeons, monsters, and skills people know are the most commonly encountered mysteries for humans. If you consider mystery as a vast sea, those are just the surface.”

“You’re using the sea as a metaphor, so...”

“It means there’s far more underneath. You could say there’s the deep sea and the seafloor. Good catch—you’re sharp.”

Yoo Seong-Woon showed a diagram.

“In other words, mysteries also have levels. And generally, in one dimension, humans can only perceive the mysteries of a unified level. In Earth’s case, it’s the 1st to 3rd levels—dungeons, monsters, and skills. That’s the realm commonly visible.”

“Then what about this 0th level outside the diagram...?”

“Think of pre-catastrophe Earth. Back then, people couldn’t perceive mysteries at all. So it’s marked outside the diagram. It’s basically the earliest form of a dimension least affected by mysteries.”

He showed other dimensional examples.

“As I said, the level of mystery perceptible in a dimension is usually uniform. But a rare few humans can perceive deeper mysteries.”

“Would that be... people like us, the ‘talented’?”

“Exactly. I’m glad you’re following. You could call them faster-evolving neo-humans, or mutants. Each gardener has their own view. Think carefully later about your own identity—it matters in this line of work.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t a job?”

“Well... it’s more like freelancing? Some gardeners live like hermits with mysteries in nature. But even they need money to live, right?”

“That’s true, yeah.”

“Among the ‘talented,’ those with specialized missions are called gardeners. If that’s hard to grasp, think of them as saints serving a divine force.”

He smiled as he said it.

“Of course, without any of the glory.”

“Wait, weren’t you trying to recruit me? Isn’t it too early to show me the ugly parts?”

“I told you—this isn’t the kind of job you can recruit for. I’m just explaining. Whether or not you accept our insane proposal is up to you and the Origin.”

“Please... explain slowly. It’s getting complicated...”

“Ah, right. I wandered off again.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged, then continued.

“No one knows what form or structure lies at the end of mystery. Even though we’ve explored many dimensions through dungeons.”

“Is there a reason we haven’t figured it out? I mean, thirty years seems like enough time... but maybe it really is too vast...”

“There are other reasons too. Think about space. Can we say we fully understand the universe?”

“No, definitely not. We don’t even know where it ends.”

“Exactly. That’s the vibe.”

It was a similar context.

“Why haven’t we conquered space yet? We’ve been exploring it longer than we’ve been studying mystery. But it’s so vast and hard to map out. Mystery is the same.”

A true headache.

“And the deeper you go into mystery, the more likely people lose reason and get consumed by it.”

“...It’s that bad?”

“If a person enters a black hole, they can’t survive, right? It’s not exactly the same, but think of it like that.”

“What exactly happens?”

“They become something non-human. Or a cell of mystery itself.”

“That’s... horrifying.”

“At the level of mystery you’re perceiving now, that won’t happen. So don’t worry.”

He smiled gently.

“But given that there are levels, there must be an end or a deeper phase. Skilled gardeners can vaguely sense that presence. People on Earth decided to call it the ‘Origin.’”

“What does it actually do?”

“Sorry, but no one knows. What it does, what its purpose is, whether it has will or consciousness, or if it’s just a system. No human can define what domain it belongs to.”

“...It really is like the universe.”

“It’s the easiest metaphor for rookies.”

Many don’t know mystery, but few don’t know space. Even in a world without mandatory education, knowledge from before the Catastrophe still circulates.

Too complex a field might be difficult, but a simple metaphor about space can be passed down orally. That’s why rookie gardeners often hear that comparison.

“Humans currently divide mystery into three large stages—dungeons and monsters; divinity and children of the Origin; and finally, the Origin itself.”

“Dungeons and monsters go together, then divinity and the children of the Origin... uh...”

“As I said, they’re ‘big steps.’ You could dig endlessly. Just ask about the parts you’re actually curious about. What explanation do you need?”

“...I don’t understand the order.”

“Alright, want me to lay it out?”

He nodded easily.

“Dungeons and monsters are grouped because they’re the earliest, most visible stage. Call that levels 1 through 3. Then come divinity and children of the Origin—the middle phase. And finally, the Origin itself. That’s the final phase.”

He summarized.

“Beginning, middle, and end.”

“With all due respect... isn’t that a bit too broad?”

“But we can’t subdivide what humanity hasn’t even experienced yet.”

“...Wait, ‘yet’?”

“You catch on fast. That’s what I’m about to explain.”

Yoo Seong-Woon manipulated the pad with a flick.

“In a planet or dimension’s evolutionary process, a stage for receiving mystery is included. Humanity is the same. At a certain point, when they gain the capacity or fulfill specific conditions, mystery starts to manifest.”

“Oh... then...”

“Right. That moment was what Earth named the ‘Catastrophe.’ Most dimensions with humans go through it—or will. That’s the most recent theory. It came out of the Association’s research lab, so it’s not baseless.”

“......”

Cha Eun-Hyeok asked with a pale face.

“...Am I supposed to be hearing this?”

“It’s fine. All of this has been cleared.”

“Can’t I just grow crops and sell fish-shaped bread?”

“Let’s finish the story first.”

“Just knowing this feels like it’ll change my life completely.”

“But don’t you think peace was already out the window the moment you got involved with Gio?”

At that, Cha Eun-Hyeok looked at Gio. The Black Cloak spoke smoothly, like a robot following a command.

“Would you like to be friends with me?”

“...I’ll think about it...”

Cha Eun-Hyeok turned back to Yoo Seong-Woon.

“...So, these mysteries... have they always existed?”

“To be exact, they’ve been accumulating.”

“Accumulating?”

“You’re spot on. Mystery has been around all along.”

Yoo Seong-Woon, still flipping through the pad, soon found something.

“Ah, here it is. Take a look.”

“...What is it?”

“Jangsanbeom. You’ve heard of it, right? Especially in the provinces, it’s pretty well-known.”

“Of course. Isn’t that a native monster said to nest deep in the Korean mountains? A tiger-like thing that mimics human voices...”

“Well, that one was a post-Catastrophe urban legend, but still—it’s a mystery from before the Catastrophe. It mimics a ‘story.’”

“...Then are goblins also pre-Catastrophe mysteries?”

“Exactly right. You’re quick. Goblins are one of Korea’s most representative mysteries.”

He folded his fingers as he listed them.

“Goblins, yokai, demons, angels, ghosts—those beings are all types of older mysteries. Do you know anything about shamans or exorcist priests?”

“Yes, I do. Us third-class citizens in the provinces know a bit of folk knowledge. Not in detail, but somewhat...”

“Stuff like seeing ghosts, interacting with them, exorcising them—same context. There were accounts of ghost sightings even before the Catastrophe. Those people were the ‘talented’ ones we mentioned earlier.”

“...People who existed in the 0th-level era?”

“Good, you’re really getting it.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded approvingly.

“Until the Catastrophe, Earthlings didn’t have the ability to perceive mystery. But afterward... they developed new senses and functions. You could say it was evolution.”

“...That evolution happened because of the accumulated mystery?”

“...On a larger scale, yes. The Catastrophe fits into that context. If humans evolved to perceive and engage with mystery, then Earth evolved to open the door to it.”

“Can we really call that evolution?”

“Plenty call it corruption instead.”

He smiled crookedly.

“What do you think a dungeon is?”

“A dungeon? Another dimension, I suppose.”

“There are dungeons made entirely from scratch. They’re usually low-level. No special story—just beat the monsters and the boss.”

He rolled his eyes slightly.

“Those are considered dungeons birthed directly from the Origin. They do have rules and stories, but they’re rudimentary. No complicated causality.”

“Oh, right. I heard that the higher the dungeon grade, the more detailed its rules and stories are. My little brother told me. Though, he’s never set foot in one...”

“And those high-grade dungeons are typically mutated forms of existing dimensions.”

A bit frightening, perhaps.

“They’re dimensions completely overtaken by mystery.”

“Overtaken... wait, then...”

“Yep. Earth’s following the same pattern.”

“...Are we going to be destroyed?”

“Well, there’s still a ways to go.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“But the scary part is—it might not be so far off.”

“...Let me explain a bit further. Most monsters are born from these dungeons. But there are some that create dungeons themselves.”

If you remembered the mermaid monster from before, it would be easy to understand.

“But even those monsters begin in dimensions already overtaken by mystery. When a specific dimension becomes so full of mystery that it essentially becomes mystery itself, some existence within it—something that has fate, rules, and a story—can transform into a monster. And in most cases, those monsters take human-like forms.”

That was the natural order of things. If there are parents, there will be children. If something has a beginning, it will also have an end.

“Uh... honestly, I’m not entirely sure this sequence is perfectly accurate, but to organize it roughly...”

Yoo Seong-Woon arranged a diagram on the pad. It showed a rough sequence:

[Source of Mystery (Origin) → Garden (Bloodline and Organs closest to the Origin) → Dungeon (A type of child of the Origin) → Monster (Child of the Dungeon)]

“Think of it as usually following this order.”

“‘Usually,’ huh.”

“There are a lot of variables in this field.”

Which was why there were so many late nights.

“Oh, and for reference—humans and their world follow a path completely separate from the flow of mystery.”

“Sorry, but I don’t understand that at all.”

“Put simply, it’s like how science and magic can coexist as disciplines, but they operate in completely different frameworks. I’m not used to teaching beginners, so I might be saying things too abstractly.”

Yoo Seong-Woon chuckled awkwardly.

“So... um... humans and other creatures born on Earth, the planet that shaped them, the universe surrounding it... Even if the first humans couldn’t understand it, they could at least perceive this material realm. Everything that just existed from the beginning. Things you can see and touch... things that can be discovered through technological and civilizational progress.”

“......”

“Let’s put all that into the ‘science’ category I mentioned earlier.”

“...Under science...”

“But the broadest area in science is space, and the deepest concept in magic is the Origin. In both cases, the odds of humans ever reaching their end is infinitesimal.”

Which led to a lot of troubling uncertainty.

“If these two separate realms ever fully merge, no one knows what might happen. One scholar even claimed that if the domain of science ever accumulates too much mystery—past its threshold—then the final stage of that evolution would ultimately be mystery.”

“...Wait, wasn’t turning into a dungeon the final stage of evolution?”

“Nope. We don’t know that. We don’t know what comes after a dungeon. We only know that once a certain level of mystery builds up in a dimension, it crosses a threshold and becomes a dungeon.”

“Then what do we do?”

“That’s where the gardener’s role becomes important.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled warmly.

“Ah, finally bringing up the gardener, huh.”

“My brain feels like it’s going to explode...”

“It’s alright. This is just a teaser. You don’t need to dig deep or try to learn it all at once. No one can force this on you, Mr. Cha.”

He went on.

“By now, you’ve probably realized—Origin is a kind of mother-body. A concentration of mystery, from which all other mysteries ripple out and influence planets like ours.”

“...It’s not something physical, right?”

“That, I honestly don’t know. Like I said, it’s an undefined domain. But there’s exactly one way for humans to manage the mystery that flows out from it...”

“Is that... the gardener?”

“Gardeners manage the garden.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“And the garden, as I just explained, is the organ and bloodstream closest to the Origin. There are points like that scattered all over Earth. Other dimensions and planets have them too. And if we manage those properly, we can prevent the overflow of mystery.”

He turned his eyes slightly to the side.

“In other words, it’s about preparing for a scenario where mystery overflows so much that humans can no longer protect themselves. To stop unpredictable evolutions—or corruptions—from happening, we tend the garden, repair it, and maintain the boundary between reality and mystery.”

After that long explanation, Cha Eun-Hyeok asked,

“...So that neither side overflows?”

“So that neither side overflows.”

Cold water pouring into hot, until it all becomes a lukewarm mess. No one knows exactly what would happen then, but it probably wouldn’t be good for humanity.

“It’s presumed that the most primitive form of gardeners were probably priests or shamans. They didn’t understand mystery precisely.”

“Ah...”

“But they had more aptitude than the average person—so these ‘talented’ types could manage the shallowest mysteries even before the Catastrophe.”

“Then... were those people also gardeners?”

“Not quite. They couldn’t perceive mystery well enough to have evolved, and they couldn’t recognize the garden. So you can’t say they were gardeners.”

A shame.

“So humanity had to evolve just enough for mystery to accumulate, and then they could manage the garden?”

“But didn’t you say earlier that the Catastrophe happened because we couldn’t manage it in time?”

“What could we have done? There were no people who could see the garden, perceive it, or manage it. So in other words—the Catastrophe was inevitable.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled as he looked at Cha Eun-Hyeok.

“That’s why, now that we understand the situation, we have to do our best to mediate between mystery and reality. Otherwise, we risk triggering another Catastrophe. Wouldn’t that be unfair to the future generations?”

“......”

“Of course, just like everything that starts must one day end... dimensions and planets come into existence, life arises on top of them, and perhaps it’s only natural that mystery eventually brings it all to a close.”

Some gardeners called that the natural cycle.

“They say mystery and reality take turns reclaiming each other—that dimensions and planets are born, and mystery brings about their end. Whether or not that cycle truly exists, it’s true that where there’s an end, there must have been a beginning. And vice versa.”

That’s just how it was.

“But it’s exactly because no one wants more chaos that so many gardeners work so hard.”

“...So what do you want me to do?”

“That’s why we need your help.”

“I....”

“Help me sell fish-shaped bread.”

“......”

A long moment passed before Cha Eun-Hyeok asked,

“Excuse me?”

He was calm—but it was basically a scream.

So that thing about the snack cart wasn’t a joke?

***

Now, let’s move on to Gio’s “inspiration.”