The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 313

It was certainly an inefficient method, but gardeners were usually chosen.

The garden had to select a human with the right qualities, but there were many problems with this.

First, most people who had the right qualities didn’t show themselves—they lived in hiding.

“Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok is actually on the mild side.”

Jeong Hae-Woon sniffled deliberately and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief.

“It’s only been, what, thirty-two years since the Great Catastrophe? Because of that, superstition is still rampant in the world. And to be honest, some of those so-called superstitions really do contain practical mysticism.”

“Ah, yes. I see.”

Cha Eun-Hyeok nodded reluctantly.

Jeong Hae-Woon continued.

“In a situation like this, someone who ‘sees what others can’t’ would be terrifying, wouldn’t they?”

“Mm...”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you, Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok. I was just stating an objective fact. For someone who isn’t a hunter to see hallucinations, the result is social exclusion.”

“I wasn’t offended. I acknowledge that part.”

“Thank you for understanding. As expected—you have patience. That’s probably why you were chosen by Teacher Sergio.”

Of course, this was a time when the existence of souls was acknowledged.

But only for hunters.

So if an unawakened civilian claimed to see what others couldn’t?

At worst, it led to witch hunts.

In isolated villages, small or large incidents had actually occurred.

To those with outdated mindsets, people with such traits appeared to be precursors of the next disaster.

So what could they do but hide themselves?

“But when the people around them are overly stimulated, they sometimes end up killing those precious individuals. There’s actually no shortage of such cases—especially among provincial residents.”

“......”

Cha Eun-Hyeok’s expression became subtly uneasy.

“...Then was I... in danger too?”

“You hid your trait because you thought it was dangerous, didn’t you?”

“Ah, well... that was more because my siblings couldn’t see it...”

“Which ultimately stems from the instinct not to be excluded. And exclusion, once deepened, turns into rejection—and rejection into hostility. In harsh times like these, hostility often becomes murderous intent.”

“...That’s true.”

Cha Eun-Hyeok couldn’t deny it either.

Gio asked him,

“Have you seen cases like that before? You’re surprisingly quick to accept.”

“Murder cases among third-tier citizens... yes, they’re fairly common. There aren’t enough hunters or personnel to systematically manage small towns like cities. Even fifth-tier citizens—dangerous criminals—often hide in them.”

“Isn’t that practically isolated, then?”

“Our town’s a bit better since it’s connected to a city terminal. But there are plenty of villages with no terminal at all. Places like that are truly cut off.”

Jeong Hae-Woon kindly added an explanation for Gio, who still seemed confused.

“You know those old movies, right? The creepy rural towns in thrillers or horror films—superstitious, cult-prone, hostile to outsiders, full of strange customs.”

“Now I get it.”

“It’s a symptom of the lingering impact of the Great Catastrophe. The association and government are doing their best to identify and manage such areas, but... without a resident registration system, it's impossible to track where these towns even are.”

What’s worse—those towns were often disliked even by the association and government.

“They’re in a kind of hated position.”

“Why are they so hostile to outsiders?”

“Well... their paranoia isn’t entirely baseless.”

“You’re saying they have a reason to hate the government and the association?”

“In the early days of the Great Catastrophe, the government messed up quite a bit.”

Joo-Hyun, who had been silently listening, nodded.

“They made a lot of mistakes.”

“That’s right.”

Yoo Seong-Woon agreed.

“To put it plainly, we’re talking about human trafficking, illegal experimentation, all sorts of things. Some fools tried to conquer fear of the new mystic phenomena through science—and it blew up in their faces.”

“Good lord.”

“And those fools? They were people in power. I think I mentioned it once before—there’s a reason the previous government leaders lost their heads.”

“They did that even with awakened people running around?”

“Ah, back then... awakened people were still seen as...”

Yoo Seong-Woon trailed off.

Jeong Hae-Woon chuckled and picked up the explanation.

“Monsters, at best mercenaries. In other words, awakened people were essentially treated as slaves. Public opinion wasn’t kind to them either.”

“But each of them was powerful, weren’t they? I don’t get how society rejected the only ones who could fight back against monsters.”

“That’s why it only happened in the early and middle stages of the catastrophe. Even awakened people feared their own power. The government fueled that fear—and those on the other side, the ones intoxicated by power, did monstrous things that justified the label.”

“Ugh.”

“Korea actually cleaned up relatively quickly. All that head-lopping paid off. Multiple coups and crises happened until we finally stabilized. A bit insane, right?”

Gio looked at Jeong Hae-Woon with pity.

“You’ve been through a lot.”

“Thank you for noticing.”

Jeong Hae-Woon gave two thumbs up and continued.

“Anyway, back then, hunters had little say. And the Korean government just tried to control all citizens, awakened or not. That led to incidents like...”

“You mean the trafficking and human experiments Yoo Seong-Woon mentioned?”

“There were others too. Entire villages falsely accused—innocent people executed. Some of those events were even broadcast live.”

“In short, it was fear-based politics.”

“Exactly. And history shows that kind of regime doesn’t last long. With hunters—real, dangerous people—right in front of them, the government collapsed fast. Awakened people realized their own power and overthrew the system.”

Then Joo-Hyun pointed at Jeong Hae-Woon.

“And one of them was Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon.”

“Oh, you’re flattering me too much.”

“At least in Korea, there’s nothing you all can’t do under the title ‘Symbol of Eternity.’ That reverence is thanks for what you’ve built—a world we can bear to live in.”

“Failure’s called a rebellion. Success? A revolution.”

Jeong Hae-Woon smiled and nodded.

“In our case, it was a revolution.”

“......”

“You’re looking awfully sentimental.”

“My heart aches.”

“We really are your offspring, huh.”

“It must’ve been hard.”

Gio knew Jeong Hae-Woon only looked old on the outside.

Inside, he was still a kid who’d worn the mask of adulthood and walked a cruel path of thorns.

Gio thought he should grill him a few slices of meat before he left.

“.......”

“Well, anyway...”

Jeong Hae-Woon averted his gaze from Teacher Sergio, albeit awkwardly.

“It hasn’t been that long since we overthrew that mad government. Many citizens still remember. Those who could hide went deep underground... and now, the government doesn’t even know how many citizens are in Korea.”

Before the catastrophe, Korea’s strengths—and weaknesses—were things like the resident registration system and widespread CCTV.

It was easy to catch criminals.

But now, that was no longer the case.

“Of course, we could identify people if we wanted. Korean hunters are talented enough. But actually conducting that process would bring massive backlash.”

“Backlash?”

“The anger of those hiding. The anxiety of city dwellers who want management to stay focused on cities. The stress of hunters having to fight people, not monsters. And so on. Korea still doesn’t have the resources to deal with that.”

“That makes sense.”

“And the same goes for installing teleport terminals in rural villages. The people there resist violently, and even if you station personnel, there’s no guarantee they’ll fit in with the town.”

“So it’s a people problem.”

“As always.”

Jeong Hae-Woon gave a dry laugh.

“That’s why most towns naturally become closed communities. They reject outside influence, grow hostile toward ‘strangers.’ And if someone with unique traits is born there? They usually suffer once they’re exposed.”

He shrugged.

“There are exceptions. Sometimes the town is peaceful and welcoming.”

“But not often, I imagine.”

“Usually, the elders are paranoid thanks to the catastrophe and the government’s past sins. And if the person with the most authority hates outsiders, everyone else follows.”

Jeong Hae-Woon smiled brightly.

“This is why I’m always running around till my feet blister.”

“I heard rumors you do overtime every day. Is that true?”

“Oh yes. Definitely. If I don’t work, people die.”

“Hm.”

Gio pulled out a sandwich with meat.

Jeong Hae-Woon stopped him.

“What, are you going to trap me in this hut? Please, I’d be very grateful if you didn’t feed me.”

“You won’t die just from eating.”

“Come on, Teacher, have a little mercy. I don’t want to live forever in this peaceful hut.”

“I don’t arbitrarily imprison people.”

“But you do enchant them. I may trust your current self, but I don’t trust that pink-haired portrait.”

“You seem well-versed in seduction. Since you trust my current self, I’ll let it slide.”

“I’m so touched I could cry.”

Anyway—

“How have we found talented gardeners until now? We’ve had to run around non-stop. See them, test them, confirm their aptitude, and then quietly recruit—sometimes kidnap them.”

“Kidnap? You’ve gone that far?”

“It’s scouting. We couldn’t recruit talents without direct confirmation. And even then, most of them hide.”

Cha Eun-Hyeok, a bit guilty, apologized.

“I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t blaming you.”

And there was no need to.

“If a talented person doesn’t want to work, we can’t force them. But it really hits hard when they vanish. Makes me wonder if Earth is doomed.”

And—

“This isn’t the only problem.”

“Right. A gardener only becomes one if chosen by a garden.”

To Yoo Seong-Woon’s agreement, Gio asked,

“How do gardens usually choose their gardeners?”

“Well... I think Mr. Zeorge used a similar metaphor—it’s like a cat choosing its owner. The can opener thing.”

“So it’s entirely on their whim.”

“That’s about right.”

At that point, Jeong Hae-Woon chimed in.

“There’s a commonality. The chosen gardener is usually someone who resonates with the garden. In other words, they’re picking a ‘high-functioning, highly adaptable slave.’”

“Slave?”

“Slave.”

Jeong Hae-Woon didn’t correct himself.

“Gardens seem to have something like a will. Maybe it is real. It’s on the level of artificial intelligence so advanced we have to question whether it deserves personhood. And that makes it even crueler.”

They usually lacked mercy.

In human terms, they could be compared to sociopaths or psychopaths.

“Think of it like a black company.”

“They work employees to death?”

“Say you get the same results by grinding down one person instead of ten. Which does the company choose?”

“If they have a conscience, ten.”

“If not—one. Gardens are that heartless company. They lack humanity, so no mercy, no empathy. They use one person until they break, then replace them.”

Cha Eun-Hyeok cautiously asked,

“But gardens... aren’t actual companies. They don’t need money.”

“Ah, good question. That’s exactly what proves gardens are neutral forces—natural disasters, really. Mr. Cha, did Mr. Yoo explain this?”

“Yes, something about mysticism and science as two domains.”

“Right. So where do humans belong?”

“...Science?”

“And gardens?”

“Mysticism...”

“Then what about gardeners?”

“...Aren’t they human too?”

“Exactly. They’re real people.”

Jeong Hae-Woon nodded as if pleased.

“Gardens demand delicate, talented humans. But those humans aren’t mysticism—they’re just people who blend well into it. It’s like borrowing resources from another domain.”

That’s why gardens usually only use one gardener.

To avoid collapsing the boundary between science and mysticism.

It’s not about greed or resource limits.

It’s about balance and efficiency.

And that, in turn, is nature’s law.

Like how cold water sinks, hot water rises.

How ice floats.

How air circulates.

It’s simply that.

“That’s why gardens are usually merciless to their gardeners.” 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

“Hmm.”

Gio’s hair turned pastel.

“Garbage.”

“Oh my. To think I’d be called trash by a two-legged garden.”

“Openly denying my humanity to my face? How tragic.”

“Why is calling a garden a garden so sad?”

By human standards, gardens were trash.

They seduced their gardeners, made them ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) love deeply, held that love hostage, and shook them.

To work harder. To perform better.

And when the gardener broke, they replaced them—without a shred of regret.

Because it was efficient.

Love made them devoted.

Devotion made them desperate.

And desperation produced the highest efficiency.

Gardeners were usually ground down like that.

“As people go, there’s nothing trashier.”

“I treat my people with love and care. So please don’t lump me in.”

“...Could you turn your hair back to black?”

“Sure.”

“Phew.”

Relieved, Jeong Hae-Woon stood up.

“With that said, our dear ‘Portrait of Gio’ has done a great thing. Come on, everyone—applause.”

Clap clap clap...

Awkward clapping echoed.

“Now, damn it, I don’t have to run around anymore...!!”

“Whoa.”

“This is mercy! This is consideration! This is love!!”

Jeong Hae-Woon clapped loudly and passionately.

***

“So the reason the number of gardeners suddenly increased...”

Seo Seo-Hee pointed at the landscape paintings.

“It’s thanks to these?”

“Yes, that’s our understanding for now.”

“And how does it work?”

“These paintings go out and find ‘talent.’”

“And then what?”

“If there’s a good match, they get swallowed. If not, they get spit out.”

“What kind of trash logic is that?”

“But it’s true.”

The 10,000 landscape paintings Gio drew were selecting gardeners.

“For some reason, the ones that are successfully ‘swallowed’ get spit out at landmarks like Gyeongbokgung Palace. The association is now bringing them in and explaining things.”

“Gyeongbokgung? Landmarks?”

“Well...”

The association researcher hesitated before explaining.

“According to the gardeners, it feels like they’re being ejected at mystic springs—veins located in areas with heavy foot traffic.”

“......”

Seo Seo-Hee couldn’t help but picture her portrait teacher.

‘...Sure, it’s worthy of Jeong Hae-Woon’s standing ovation, but...’

Just what are you after, portrait teacher?