The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 318

Even though the existence of the Garden had been revealed to the world, no chaos followed.

“Hey, that piece the Black Cloak painted this time? They say it’s called the Garden.”

“The Garden? You mean like... the yard in some rich guy’s mansion?”

“No, apparently it’s a bit different.”

“What’s different about it?”

“They say it’s a dungeon that applies super strict entry conditions... Hardly any monsters, but the terrain is brutal. They say that alone makes it at least a B or even A-rank.”

That was the reason.

“A new type of dungeon or something?”

“Well, it’s not like it matters. Only people with rare traits can enter anyway. I heard there’s no dungeon break either, so what’s it got to do with people like us?”

“Still, those chosen or whatever, I bet they’re happy. There’s a ton of people dying to get inside one of Black Cloak’s artworks. I heard that thing—the food cart or whatever—came from there too.”

“That one’s kind of special, sure... but they say food carts show up in regular dungeons too. Honestly, I don’t even get what’s so great about it. Maybe it’s because I’m not an artist or something.”

“Well... fuck, yeah. We’re not exactly the type to cry in front of a Black Cloak painting. I’d rather just get another decent artifact drop, you know?”

People didn’t think of the "Garden" as something separate. That was because the "food cart" appeared in both the Garden and regular dungeons. Besides, even being chosen as a Gardener didn’t actually bring any real benefit.

The chosen Gardeners knew their place. None of them ever uttered the arrogant claim that the Garden belonged to them. It might have looked that way at a glance, but it was also well understood that it was absolutely not the case.

“So then what’s actually good about going in there?”

“Uh... appreciating the scenery?”

“The fact that I’m even asking means I’m probably not that much of a romantic, huh.”

“Me neither.”

That’s why most Hunters responded with indifference.

“I mean, it’s kind of weird that civilians can enter, though.”

“What’s weird about it? It’s not like it’s the first time. If you think about it, the dungeons that non-awakened people could enter before—weren’t they also the same type as this Garden?”

“I heard the Association’s research lab got super busy trying to classify all that. Seriously, those guys never rest. Hey, but isn’t it kinda sad for the ones who were picked to be Gardeners? I heard they’re basically dungeon slaves.”

“What do you mean ‘what do we do’? I heard the Association provides support or whatever. They’ll probably just get by living off that. I’ve got my own shit to deal with.”

Most Hunters were materialistic. It wasn’t a criticism—it was the inevitable result of their environment. In an era where everything was ranked and evaluated under capitalism, what else could you expect?

And it wasn’t just Hunters. Ordinary citizens were the same. When you’re struggling to survive, you don’t have the luxury to worry about someone else’s lot in life. Unless, of course, it’s the kind of story that makes you bitter with envy...

“What rotten luck. Tsk tsk. Sounds more like a punishment.”

“What if you’re not even a Hunter and you get chosen? That’s like total subjugation.”

“Now that I think about it, there’s really nothing good about getting picked. Damn... if this isn’t divine punishment, what is?”

No one was jealous. In fact, most pitied them. To most people, the Gardeners’ pure, devoted love was worthless. You couldn’t even see it most of the time, and when you did, it just made people scoff—‘Ugh, they’re under some kind of spell.’

That was reality. There was nothing particularly good about being a Gardener. The only real thing they got was the fact that their burning love had been acknowledged by the object of their affection.

“What a romantic scheme, don’t you think?”

Someone’s bright yellow eyes curved into a smile.

“Ah, such a violent yet affectionate conspiracy...”

“...I’m not sure it qualifies as a scheme or conspiracy, Guildmaster Bisa Beul.”

At Jeong Hae-Woon’s comment, Bisa Beul smiled with his usual crooked grin.

“My apologies if my words offended you. I suppose Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon isn’t the type to get swept up in artistic themes.”

“I think it’s worth revisiting whether this even qualifies as an artistic theme in the first place. Though I do acknowledge the breadth of your tolerance, Guildmaster Bisa Beul. I understand.”

Jeong Hae-Woon also smiled faintly.

“But the fact that you refuse to believe in kindness or goodwill... I find that truly sad. Especially when it concerns your own son.”

“Then do you really believe Hunter Sergio did all of this without any ulterior motive? You, who are so skeptical and contrarian by nature?”

Bisa Beul laughed wide enough to tear his mouth open.

“Saving starving people with a rare theme like the food cart, capturing surreal and beautiful landscapes on a canvas of 10,000 points, enlisting Cha Eun-Hyeok—a former Gardener talent you were close with—to utilize his credentials... and you’re telling me all of that happened without intent?”

It had. Gio had truly done it without thinking.

“I don’t believe that.”

“...It’s not that I’m trying to ignore his insight or foresight.”

“Ah, I knew Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon would understand.”

“He was probably planning this ever since he first befriended that guy, Cha Eun-Hyeok.”

“Otherwise, how would the perfect person for this event just happen to be available?”

Bisa Beul spoke smoothly, his expression composed.

“A Gardener without a master but with excellent aptitude. Head of a household, heavy with responsibility, with a family to care for—no easy way to run away...”

“Even ran a fish-shaped bun food cart, which is rare these days. Of course, it can’t compare in scale to what Teacher Sergio is running now... but yes, in that sense. It’s a perfect résumé.”

“Hmph. Once I thought it through that far, I couldn’t help but think in terms like scheme or conspiracy. It’s tender, but also cunning, isn’t it?”

If Gio had heard it, he’d have torn at his chest and collapsed to the floor in grief. But at this moment, no one had yet reached that devastating truth. The conversation continued.

“How meticulous it all is, Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon. My son is quietly reshaping this cramped country called Korea. He is a teacher, and we’ll be the good textbooks.”

“I’m not unaware that the Black Cloak wants to educate Earth. It’s just... he’s starting to sound like a missionary from a cult. It’s a bit much.”

“If that’s how it came across, I truly apologize. But I hope you’ll understand even a little of how I feel. To think such a romantic bomb would go off on this dull little planet...!”

Jeong Hae-Woon, still smiling, called out again.

“Guildmaster Bisa Beul.”

“My, what a romance-less man you are.”

“Even among Hunters, there’s a lot of division over this topic.”

“And the Garden has made that even more apparent.”

To the public, the Garden was an odd type of dungeon.

For one, it looked beautiful. Monsters didn’t just leap out of nowhere. Not just anyone could enter, so there were hardly any casualties. Even if a few rare talents were swallowed by it, nobody died. And the fact that food carts popped up more frequently than in regular dungeons? That was enviable.

But now, the presence of the food cart was a lifeline. It only appeared before Hunters who were truly on the brink of death. Who would willingly want to enter a Garden just for that?

...Except for the chosen Gardeners.

“People in love are truly romantic, aren’t they?”

Jeong Hae-Woon nodded mechanically. He had no reason to disagree.

“I admit, it’s tender and cunning. I’ve thought the same—his touch and gaze are incredibly refined. That he could reveal the Garden to the world without any backlash...”

“The concept itself is simple, isn’t it? Didn’t expect to hear something so mild from you...”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Guildmaster Bisa Beul. You know very well why the government and the Association stalled so long. Fame doesn’t mean omnipotence.”

The idea was simple. Dungeons and Gardens were clearly different, but they could appear similar to the untrained eye. Among the dungeon types, there were virtual dungeons that transported people to unseen realms if certain conditions were met.

But compared to that, the Black Cloak’s Garden series was visible. That lowered suspicion. Devotees of the Black Cloak had a big influence too. They continuously pursued romance and art.

They became a kind of buffer.

“...If even one thing hadn’t gone right, none of this would have succeeded.”

Unfortunately, the government and the Association couldn’t do it the way the Black Cloak did.

Over 90% of Gardener candidates were wary of them—that was the first problem. The timing wasn’t right to reveal the mystery, so they were biding their time—that was the second. And the third: if they failed, the Gardeners might be socially rejected.

...If we fail once, it’ll take 300 years just to recover. In the meantime, Earth could be consumed by the mysterious and suffer a second apocalypse. I was preparing with a buffer of at least 800 years...

And the government and the Association didn’t even have that luxury. Even excluding the risk, they lacked the money, manpower, and time to push something like this through.

It would have taken a massive effort just to make the public accept Gardeners as familiar allies.

But just maintaining the current creaking state of the world already consumes so many resources...

The Black Cloak had resolved that whole mess in one sweeping move. The reason was simple—he could show the Garden. That was why the public was enchanted, why they could accept it.

Bisa Beul smiled as if he knew what the other was thinking.

“People always doubt what they can’t see or understand. They easily form hostility and push it away. I figured you were worried that unpredictable variable might disappear.”

“For someone who understands so well, it’s disappointing how uncooperative you’ve been with my friends... This isn’t the time, but I can’t hide my disappointment. They did their best.”

“And that troublesome job was resolved by our dear Hunter Sergio. How does it feel? My painter, who showed the mystery to those who wouldn’t believe.”

It was a miracle no human could’ve accomplished.

“...I’m grateful.”

He meant it.

“That was the biggest problem—not being able to see it meant there was no guarantee anyone would believe it. The world was too cruel to embrace people who were different. And so, we couldn’t be sure the witch hunts wouldn’t happen again.”

Gardeners had always been lonely. They saw what others couldn’t, interacted with it, confronted it, subdued it, and sometimes ran to their beloved master to offer it all.

The public didn’t know how beautiful that vast thing was. They didn’t realize how much love it held hostage. This wasn’t a world that protected the weak or paid attention to individual circumstances.

Who would understand this kind of love? Who would believe in it and watch over it? So, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) they were grateful.

“Quite a few Gardeners are overcoming their loneliness.”

“That’s probably their greatest enemy.”

“Yes, indeed. You think there haven’t been Gardeners who died, still clinging to a love they had grown disillusioned with?”

“I’ve always thought it was heartbreaking to see them fade away.”

“...That’s... something to be thankful for. Really, it is.”

Words so hollow you couldn’t even spit on them.

“Why are you so kind?”

Jeong Hae-Woon had come to find out.

“You’ve got good eyes, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what to do with my son’s overflowing love.”

“Where does it all come from? Even if he’s a piece of the Origin... that alone doesn’t explain it. Not at all.”

“You’re right. The Origin is intricately made, but in the end, it’s just a system. So, Guildmaster Jeong Hae-Woon, are you trying to find the destination of my son’s mercy, or its beginning?”

“Both. I need to know the destination when I help guide his mercy, and the starting point to measure where it ends.”

“Oh, I see. But if I may speak without restraint...”

Bisa Beul tilted his head.

“My son will love everything forever.”

“Where did you see that overflowing mercy?”

“Love, mercy, affection, sacrifice, tenderness. He’s made of all those near-synonymous words. That’s just the kind of being he is. He is the wellspring.”

“Where did you see that, Guildmaster Bisa Beul?”

“......”

“......”

After a long pause, Jeong Hae-Woon realized.

“...Ha.”

In those eyes, he saw himself.

“...You saw him in me? That vast, immense being—in me?”

“You asked me for his destination and starting point, didn’t you?”

“...Are you saying... it’s within me? No...”

Jeong Hae-Woon rubbed his face and asked again.

“...You’re saying it’s within us.”

The Symbols of Eternity.

“That’s incredibly unpleasant.”

“Did I say something terribly rude?”

“It’s just... an ugly feeling.”

Dragon’s eyes.

If he could, he would’ve ripped those damned eyes out and jammed them into his own skull. Just to see the world that bastard sees, to know what he knows. What had he seen in those pitch-black eyes of the portrait?

What had he seen in Jeong Hae-Woon, his so-called “student,” and in others?

Maybe because he looked so conflicted, Bisa Beul gave him an uncharacteristically gentle piece of advice.

“You saw it too, didn’t you?”

“......”

The answer was already decided.

“...Thank you, Guildmaster Bisa Beul.”

Did I forget something?

I must have... but what was it?

***

Err¿or?oc?curred

■gl¡t¡ch

■■■■

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■....

Awaiting command.

***

And around that time, Sergio—

“Let’s eat.”

“Kyaaah! Teacher, I love you!”

“I know.”

—was feeding Cha Eun-Hye.