The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 308

“What’s there not to understand?”

Bisa Beul smiled gently.

“In the end, it’s just about wanting to set up a knight’s cafeteria in the garden for gardener welfare, right?”

“Technically, it would take the form of a food cart.”

“Hmm, well, from a management perspective, I can’t deny it’d be a convenient type of business.”

“I also thought it would be easier for gardeners to access than a regular shop.”

“Because of its open structure? That could be true.”

While the two exchanged quiet, casual conversation, Joo-Hyun silently organized her tablet.

“......”

“Joo-Hyun, did you give up?”

“I just accepted reality.”

At Yoo Seong-Woon’s question, Joo-Hyun turned to him and smiled.

“It’s true that the gardeners’ situation is pitiful.”

“...You’re thinking just like Gio.”

“Honestly, Mr. Gio is right. Gardeners are still people. They need to eat, and rest. I learned this time just how difficult that is inside the garden.”

“Well, that’s a discomfort all hunters face when entering a dungeon...”

“Yes, it does seem to follow a similar path. But in terms of workload intensity, gardeners are far beyond. I’m not sure if the word ‘superior’ applies in this context, but...”

“...Hmm...”

It was true—gardens could be considered a higher-order version of dungeons. In a dungeon, one could overcome things with proper tactics and monster strategies. Gardens, on the other hand, were picky about whether the visitor even deserved to achieve their goal.

Within them, gardeners were restricted in basic functions—sleep, consumption, even breathing. That meant the biological traits of being human were not respected. After hearing Gio’s description of Yoo Seong-Woon’s job, Joo-Hyun looked at him with concern.

“You can’t even maintain body heat in there, you said.”

“...That’s true. It’s one of the snowfield’s rules.”

“In other words, the countless things humans are born with... all get suppressed. Don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it suppression. I chose this job, after all. I know it sounds strange, but... I love my snowfield.”

“I’m not trying to insult your snowfield, Mr. Yoo, but I can’t help feeling bad about it.”

“That’s what makes your thinking unusual.”

Most people didn’t think that far.

“But it’s kind of nice, honestly.”

“Is it? Weren’t you the one complaining about being cold and hungry as a gardener? And now you say this?”

Joo-Hyun stared at him.

“I may be worried about what Mr. Gio is planning, but... if this means you’ll get to eat something, isn’t that a good thing?”

“Are you infected by Gio now? You’re all trying to turn me into a pig, why?”

“Even if it’s a garden, don’t you think we should be treated as humans before being pigs...?”

“Oh, what... You planning a revolution against the garden now...?”

The scary part was, if it were Joo-Hyun, she might actually do it. Rational to a fault, she wasn’t the type to act recklessly—unless, of course, things really were that bad.

Anyway.

“...I’m just feeling conflicted, that’s all.”

He had lived his whole life with the mindset and conduct of a gardener. There was no grand sense of sacred duty, but he understood that he was walking a path of principle. A thorny path, yes, but one he loved regardless.

And that “love” was close to something mundane. Less like faith, more like life itself. Something near, something inescapable. So, despite having no reason to, Yoo Seong-Woon let Gio’s “change” slide.

“Guess that disqualifies me as a gardener.”

“If that disqualifies a gardener, then Earth was made just to collapse.”

“Wow, going that far? You’re surprisingly blunt today.”

“I only said it because you were talking nonsense.”

Joo-Hyun shot him a glare like it wasn’t worth her time.

“I don’t like that kind of talk. Did you really want to become a tool, Mr. Yoo?”

“Maybe I did.”

“Sure, that would be easier. I can understand that feeling too.”

“But if you’re human, you shouldn’t do that, right?”

“Not because it’s noble—just because... that’s too painful.”

“...So that’s your perspective?”

“It’s better to be treated like a human while doing something good.”

“Feels like I’m committing blasphemy or something.”

“Blasphemy, huh... I wouldn’t know. I’m not a gardener.”

She gave a soft laugh.

“From a layperson’s point of view, a garden’s just another workplace. These days, there are plenty of jobs that don’t pay properly, or treat people like crap... but at least the Collectors don’t do that, right?”

Yoo Seong-Woon gave a dry laugh.

“Ha... You’re dragging the Collectors into this now? You’ve gotten bold, Ms. Joo-Hyun.”

“In a world where humans are used as resources, it’s better to be treated like a person if that’s an option. It’s just that simple. Anything better is... well, better.”

“...It’s too simple. I already talked about this with Gio in the snowfield, but... it’s like sneaking a snack past midnight, or eating chips in bed.”

“That’s a very intuitive metaphor. But if you eat late at night, you just digest it well. And if you drop crumbs on your bed, you just clean them up. Isn’t it that simple?”

“But you still feel like your parents are going to yell at you... You know?”

Well, Yoo Seong-Woon had never been yelled at like that, so he wasn’t sure. But he understood the context.

“Yeah, at this age, it’s fine to eat late. It’s fine to drop crumbs. But still, is that really a good change? A good development? I’m not sure. It’s not a perfect metaphor...”

Because it was about changing the garden to suit one’s personal desires.

“Even if it’s not wrong, it feels wrong.”

“That kind of deviation is what drives every era’s progress.”

Joo-Hyun shrugged lightly.

“Things that were illegal in one era become legal in another. I’m not so arrogant as to say what’s right or wrong about those past rules.”

“Then?”

“I just know this—things I thought would never change might, someday. Didn’t you say that once yourself?”

He glanced at her.

“That only thirty years have passed, so it’s not weird that we still don’t understand much about mystery. That it’s not a field we can easily unravel.”

“I did say that.”

“And you used space as a metaphor for Mr. Cha, right? If we follow that—despite its vastness, people have managed to learn quite a bit about the universe. Imagine all the changes that happened in that process.”

“......”

“To me, it looks the same.”

Joo-Hyun smiled.

“If you can think, ‘Maybe it’s time for change,’ Mr. Yoo...”

“...Time for change, huh...”

“After thirty years of digging a well, maybe it’s finally time to hit water.”

“...Why are all my friends like this? It’s terrifying.”

“If your surroundings are weird, the first thing you should do is check yourself.”

“You never let me win a word.”

Yoo Seong-Woon chuckled.

“So this is really happening?”

“Who do you think you’ve been talking to this whole time? Did you just wake up from a nap or something?”

“I was awake... I think.”

Honestly, he was sweating a little.

“This Gio... his drive is no joke...”

He sensed late nights ahead.

“This time, his name is Zeorge. ‘Gio’ must’ve been his nickname during life.”

“I heard he was a gardener from another dimension, but I still can’t grasp what that really means. I’ve never heard a clear explanation.”

“Me neither. When I hear him talk, I sometimes think he’s like Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon... but not quite.”

“Would it be my imagination to say this Gio is particularly eccentric?”

“If he were just a saint or a dark god, it wouldn’t be that unusual. But even among gardeners, he doesn’t seem common.”

“Have you spoken with Mr. Zeorge directly? I haven’t, embarrassingly enough.”

“He hasn’t shown himself to me either.”

He did know what he looked like, though. Before going to meet Cha Eun-Hyeok, Gio had briefly shown him.

Short, sunset-pink hair fluttering at the nape of his neck. Iridescent gemstone eyes that revealed nothing. A demeanor that was strangely playful and always perfectly balanced. A natural seducer who led attention astray and held it tight.

He was a garden.

...He hasn’t told me exactly what happened, or who he really is.

All the previous “Gios” had clearly defined narratives. This one was no different, probably—but for some reason, he was postponing his story.

Among all the Gios, he was the hardest to read.

“He didn’t seem like the shy type...”

“Well, it’s not like we’re entitled to be close with every Gio.”

“You’re right. That’s up to him.”

He was just nervous because he couldn’t get a read on him.

At this point, I’m a failed curator too, aren’t I?

A gardener who couldn’t manage his distance from mystery, who didn’t even know what kind of person he was dealing with. Where could he even be of use?

Yoo Seong-Woon chuckled emptily as he watched Gio steadily lay out his plan. It looked like the Sergio Hunter everyone knew—but his face was completely blank.

“......”

Whether this would become a distortion—or an evolution—

That, no one could say yet.

***

Incidentally, Jeong Hae-Woon knew about this too.

“I should probably be thankful you didn’t go behind my back.”

“I appreciate you saying that. I did ask for the roster in advance, after all.”

“Back then, I wasn’t sure if we were going to fight seriously or not. But yes, that was the right thing to do.”

Jeong Hae-Woon nodded with a smile.

“Even now, I sometimes wonder if I should just scrap the whole thing.”

“How often do you think that?”

“Every ten seconds?”

“Amazing that you’ve held back this long.”

“Well, I don’t want to get on the bad side of a certain important person, you know?”

He shrugged.

“It’s true—gardeners work under brutally harsh conditions.”

“My manager was appalled. Said it’s ridiculous that people are forced to work without even being treated like humans.”

“Being treated like a person... yeah. You’ll find animals or tools being treated better than gardeners in some places. Their treatment is just beyond.”

There’s a difference between cruelty from other humans and cruelty from nature. The former is offensive—but the latter denies even the foundation of being human.

With a characteristic smile, Jeong Hae-Woon continued.

“You know what? Gardeners always have to smile. The first thing rookies learn is how to wear a face that says the opposite of what they feel. Otherwise, they’ll never adapt to the contradiction of it all.”

“Mr. Yoo said the same. That it’s a job where you can’t be honest.”

“If you reveal your inner self too transparently, even the mystery of the garden will respond in kind. Then the world falls into chaos—and the gardener gets swallowed up by the very mystery they tend to, losing their roots and becoming yet another mystery.”

“That... must be painful.”

“Yes, it’s a miserable thing.”

Maybe that was why there were so few gardeners.

“No one acknowledges their efforts. They can’t even show what they do. Garden work doesn’t leave a trace. And it’s not like the job is easy, either. Managing a garden means witnessing countless fragments of magical death.”

Becoming ice, becoming flowers, becoming trees, becoming the sky, becoming rain, becoming dust. They dissolve back into nature, over and over again.

It was horrifying, in a way.

Born from nature—and still, they were human.

“I think... it’s the same kind of miracle Mr. Sergio once showed. That time he turned people into paint in a deep-sea dungeon. To get ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) the hunters out safely.”

“Did I inconvenience them?”

“Well, compared to the garden’s methods, that was remarkably gentle. So I heard. I’ve never experienced it myself. But yeah—nature doesn’t go easy on people.”

It rarely showed understanding for human frailty.

“But it can’t be helped. We’ve only known mystery for thirty-something years. It’s natural that the system for managing gardens still has a lot of flaws. If we look at human history, this is practically the prehistoric era. Somewhere around there, anyway. I figured it would improve slowly.”

“Even so, you accepted my proposal.”

“I’m the first gardener of Earth. I have to be cautious with you—but that’s also why I accept the story and the rules. This proposal doesn’t stray too far from that.”

“So you figured I wasn’t acting carelessly.”

“I said ‘only thirty years,’ but honestly? After thirty-two years of stagnation, maybe it is time for something to move. Frankly, there’s only so much dragging I can do alone. At least prehistoric humans worked together to hunt. Gardeners can’t even do that.”

In other words—

“Yes, I’m tired too.”

Lack of manpower. Lack of resources.

Of course, this was dangerous. It was reckless. It was a radical shift. But the working conditions of gardeners were just too cruel to say no on principle alone.

“What did that Cha Eun-Hyeok kid say?”

“After some hesitation, he accepted.”

“Fish bread, huh... that’s funny.”

Jeong Hae-Woon laughed as he scratched his chin.

“When you open for business, I’ll have to visit.”

“You’ll just shut it down the moment you see custard inside.”

“Putting anything but red bean in a fish bread is criminal.”

“Why do some things never change?”

“......”

Jeong Hae-Woon folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

“...And you just keep accumulating more mystery.”

“Yes, this one’s a particularly lively one.”

“And yet... it feels like you’re the one who’s not changing.”

“Well, I am a haunted portrait. What else do you expect?”

“What’s it like to be preserved forever?”

He asked.

“Is it lonely?”

“Not really. I’ve got a lot of friends.”

“That’s not something a person should go through.”

“......?”

Gio stared at Jeong Hae-Woon with a blank face.

“What’s the idea here—gossiping in my own front yard?”

Jeong Hae-Woon was currently standing on the ‘Portrait of Gio’—specifically, the yard outside his hut. He refused to go any further inside.

“Well, anyway. Thanks to your cooperation, things should go smoothly.”

“Just make sure Earth doesn’t get destroyed, Hunter Sergio. That’s all I ask.”

“I’m not that irresponsible.”

Gio smiled softly.

“You’ve done well.”

“......”

Jeong Hae-Woon smiled back.

“Don’t mention it.”

Indeed, this being was... hard to handle.