The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 142
Gio wasn’t hurt that people were afraid of him.
‘It’s understandable they might be scared.’
Even before the Great Catastrophe, there had been plenty who feared Sergio.
His stiff, seemingly regressed facial muscles hardly knew how to smile. He didn’t enjoy social activities much either, so his range of action was narrow. On top of that, Gio, who placed unusual importance on manners, was someone hard to get close to lightly.
Maybe because of that, just when it felt like people had gotten used to him, there would always be someone new who feared him.
‘They said the atmosphere was scary...’
Always expressionless, absurdly tall, and always dressed in a black suit.
‘Black is such an easy, convenient color to wear.’
Though it was both a personal preference and a practical choice, plenty of people were still frightened by Gio’s appearance. He was aware that he didn’t give off a particularly approachable impression.
“......”
Still, when they were this scared of him, even Gio couldn’t help feeling uneasy.
“Are we almost there?”
“I apologize for any discomfort.”
“No need to apologize.”
It wasn’t like asking, “Are we almost there?” warranted this level of panic. Although the guiding priest wasn’t making a fuss outwardly, the stiff steps and slightly trembling voice gave away their fear.
Gio thought to himself,
‘This really must be a burden.’
He hated it.
‘At least the Collector’s guild staff would just openly freak out and laugh it off...’
This fear felt different. The staff at the Collector’s guild had good resilience and seemed to have adapted well to Gio. Maybe it was because only people who were naturally unflappable and indifferent gathered there.
But the priest guiding him now was experiencing real, raw fear.
‘I didn’t think it would be this bad.’
And yet, seeing them still doing their best to serve him, Gio, who felt obligated to repay kindness fivefold, found his mood twisting.
“......”
“We’re here.”
“I see.”
Stopping in front of a massive gate, Gio thanked the priest.
“Thank you.”
“...It was my honor.”
The priest bowed deeply.
“Please, do not hold a grudge against us for following the Father's words.”
“I came here simply as a priest and a visitor wishing to pray. You have no reason to worry.”
“Your words lighten this lowly priest’s heart.”
Gio then asked,
“If it’s alright... would you accept a small gift from me?”
“...A gift?”
“Do you like sweet things?”
“Sweet things... Yes, I do.”
“This is a simple token of my gratitude.”
Gio handed over a packet of dried fruit, neatly wrapped in hanji.
“Sun-dried ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ fruits.”
“Ah...”
“You may eat them or not, as you wish.”
And he added,
“But please, don’t be afraid of me.”
Because it made him feel too guilty.
“Will you do that for me?”
“...I will not forget the warm grace bestowed by Your Divinity.”
“Please, don’t think of it as something so grand.”
Ah, no, don’t do that.
‘Why are you saying it like that?’
Honestly, he felt like crying a little. Every word was just too heavy. If they had just treated him like a ghost story or a monster, he could’ve laughed it off. But being treated with such reverence while being feared made Gio extremely uncomfortable.
What was so grand and gracious about this? He didn’t want to be treated like royalty over a simple packet of dried fruit. He wished the priest could understand the sincerity behind his simple gesture.
“I hope next time, you’ll have a more comfortable expression.”
Thinking it would be impolite to drag things out further, Gio withdrew.
He did have a scary appearance, and it was natural to be afraid of scary things. In a relationship where they had just met, it wouldn’t be polite to whine about it.
“......”
Thinking about it made him miss Joo Hyun, who was probably resting back at the cabin.
‘Please become friends with me quickly.’
My kind and well-mannered future pen pal, who wasn’t afraid of a haunted painting like me.
He hadn’t been particularly good at making friends even before he became a ghost story. Afterward, it only got harder, with more people fearing him. It was getting exhausting.
“Should I just open the door and walk in?”
“Stand in front, and I’ll ring the bell for the gatekeeper.”
“I understand.”
Ding—.
The priest rang a bell that shone softly white.
“......”
The door opened noiselessly.
‘...Is this the opening scene of a horror movie?’
A massive door to a dark, cavernous temple opening without a sound — it was like something from a haunted mansion.
‘But if it’s a horror concept, I’m not about to lose as a haunted portrait myself.’
Gio thought that if he ever built a temple someday, he would definitely ask for permission and adopt this system. It seemed his public image was growing closer to that of a ghost story; there was a lot to learn.
‘Still... is it rude to compare a great elder to a ghost just because I haven’t seen their face yet?’
To Gio, the God of Death was on the same level as the Sun God, the teddy bear Father. Having once experienced the Sun God, the concept of "god = lonely old man" was deeply rooted in his mind.
Confidently, he entered the pitch-black room, not a single ray of light inside. Judging from the atmosphere, it seemed the elder here also lived alone and lonely, and Gio was confident he could liven things up.
“...Hmph.”
A soft, flowing stream of darkened, clear water covered the entire floor.
The massive door closed soundlessly behind him, and soon a small white light flickered to life not far away.
“Are you the bishop of this place?”
“Please lower your words, unnamed Divinity.”
A woman wearing a richly layered hanbok like a blooming peony answered.
“We are grateful that you tolerated our rudeness. May we understand your presence here as accepting the Father’s invitation?”
“Of course.”
“I am Eunyeong, though I am lacking, the manager of this place. If you require anything, please summon me. I will remain in this room.”
The bishop placed the lantern she held onto the ground and quietly disappeared into the darkness. Wearing a pitch-black hanbok and a black veil, she vanished into the gloom almost immediately.
Only then did Gio realize with whom he was supposed to speak.
“Ah.”
He raised his head and looked into the darkness.
“I didn’t expect you would already be here.”
Then, from the darkness, a moist sound echoed.
“I greet the Death of Earth.”
“...You...”
A face emerged faintly between the flickering lights.
“You treated my children well...”
It was a being that seemed one with the darkness.
Its face resembled an ancient, weathered tree, with white light leaking through the cracks and gaps.
It had numerous long, thin arms, and its lower body, illuminated by the lanterns, stretched like a long black river.
Its body spread out like a spider’s web, wrapped in black silk. Gio realized the entire room was part of Death’s manifestation.
“You are magnificent.”
He admired sincerely.
“You are both river and tree.”
“Is that... how you see me...”
“What I stand on is your knee, and what I see is a mountain of arms.”
“...You... are very kind to me...”
“Is there any reason not to be?”
Gio liked elders.
“I came today to ask about evil gods.”
“...I see...”
“Would you tell me why you summoned me?”
“I have seen you...”
The voice of Death was as vast as an echoing cave.
“You exist within sin, yet are not a sinner.”
“You are like providence, yet not fully part of it.”
“You cannot be called a hero by the standards of evil...”
Through mouths suspended in the air, Death defined Argio.
“You, who gave your body, how can you be in hell?”
He said,
“You are condemned as a sinner but are not one. You refused to bask in the comforts of providence. You once stood as a hero among deities greedy for blood and offerings. I pity you. Your soul is sorrowful.”
“......”
“You wish to be blamed but will find it difficult. You desire to linger in dull pleasures, but prosperity and peace will remain at your side. You wish to be remembered as a hollow ghost, but you will be recorded as a giant of history.”
Death asked,
“Who are you?”
It was a pure, genuine question.
“Have you decided?”
“......”
And Gio—
“......?”
—was speechless.
“I’m human.”
“Ah, so you have decided.”
“No, I’ve been human from the start.”
“I understand...”
“Sir, please listen to me.”
Gio grew a little indignant.
“I admit I’m an unusual case, but that doesn’t mean I’m not human.”
There were people with massive crow wings flying around, people with slitted reptilian eyes flashing, people so powerful they could blow apart mountains with a single breath — and they were still human.
Why couldn’t he be?
“This is discrimination.”
“Discrimination...”
“Human diversity is broad enough to include someone like me.”
“Yes... surely it embraces you...”
“I’m not being embraced — I was part of it from the start.”
“I shall accept that...”
Somehow, it felt like Death sighed. Gio became even more indignant. Humanity’s diversity had grown so vast — why couldn’t a haunted portrait be accepted as human?
Whether Death simply didn’t care about Gio’s frustration or lacked the will to debate, the many mouths floating in the air muttered continuously.
“Poor soul...”
“Such devotion and affection are admirable...” fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
“Your embrace is higher than mountains and deeper than rivers...”
“Breathing in your embrace...”
“Sleeping in your embrace...”
“Life and death reside within it...”
“And still you call yourself human...”
“Ever loving, ever giving...”
“You shall have no end...”
“Only beginnings...”
“To you...”
Among the countless voices like mist whispering in the mountain’s gloom, only one continued:
“You shall know no death.”
“......”
Gio thought.
‘...Oh heavenly gods, am I walking the path of legendary eccentrics now?’
Out of nowhere, he had just been given confirmation of immortality.
‘As expected, I’m amazing.’
He had vaguely accepted it since the moment he admitted he was a portrait, but now it seemed he truly could no longer call himself an ordinary being. His self-esteem climbed yet another level today.
Though it really could stop growing now, the only human who could’ve pointed that out — Sergio’s grandmother — had already passed away. Yoo Seong-Woon’s scream and humanity’s collective grief were inevitable.
“......”
Gio quickly reached a conclusion.
“...I need to make a lot of friends.”
That was the answer.
“That way, I’ll never be bored.”
“...Yes...”
“Would it be alright if I visited you often? I’ll bring you gifts.”
“Gifts... you say...”
“If death no longer applies to me, then we could be friends without farewells, couldn’t we?”
“...Friends...”
The dark room made of death rang out, soft and wide.
“That sounds wonderful.”
Gio recognized that sound — it was laughter.
“Come often, young friend.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll look forward to your gifts.”
Thus, Gio gained another friend.
Ta-da.
***
“Oh, really?”
Waiting in the prayer room, Yoo Seong-Woon asked,
“So basically, as long as they’re not afraid of you, they’re automatically your friend?”
“I would also prefer they be kind and polite, if possible.”
“So... anyone who isn’t scared of you and is nice and well-mannered.”
“In that case, there’s no reason not to make them my friend.”
“Indeed...”
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.
“I thought you were calling him ‘sir,’ so I figured you wouldn’t go as far as calling him a friend.”
“He didn’t seem as old and lonely as I expected...”
“You’re using your father as the standard for ‘old and lonely,’ aren’t you?”
“He was quite lonely before I started visiting.”
“I’m not even sure how you define something intangible like a god as ‘old’ or ‘lonely,’ but...”
“Well... doesn’t it just feel that way when you see them? Death didn’t seem particularly lonely to me. He has a lot of family, too.”
“......”
That part was a little intriguing. Yoo Seong-Woon’s bad habit — curiosity — peeked out. He asked,
“So how did the God of Death appear to you?”
He was curious about Gio’s perception of the world.
“You said he didn’t seem lonely, right?”
“Hmm... if I had to describe it as a person, maybe... middle-aged?”
“Middle-aged. And?”
“With an incredibly good sense of acceptance...”
After thinking briefly, Gio added,
“A bit of a couch potato?”
“......”
“It wasn’t irresponsible — just that if you push, he’ll let you.”
“Uh...”
“And above all, he didn’t want to leave his room.”
“...Uh, that...”
“I think we’ll get along very well.”
“...I see.”
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.
“If you say so, I’ll believe you.”
Yeah, sure.
It must be a realm still beyond human understanding.
