The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 360

I admit it.

"You're not exactly a good person."

Therefore, he wasn’t a kind one either.

That’s just how Sergio was. Giovanni too, and Argio. As for Zeorge, he’s not even worth mentioning.

Maybe it's something common to all the "Gios," though I’m not sure. At the core, there was always something... not quite normal about them.

"Why must I be insulted along with the rest?"

"Hard to believe our uptight priest didn’t know his own temper."

"As someone from an evil god, I’d prefer if you kept your mouth shut."

"Think I will, friend?"

Even from this brief exchange, it was clear—each one of them had a strong personality.

And so, Gio was reflecting on the past. He liked kind people, but he himself was not one.

He played favorites quite heavily. Separate from love, he enjoyed interesting situations. Often, he would simply find amusement in accidents or incidents.

"I think he's just insensible."

Agreed.

"He just finds joy in many things, doesn’t he?"

Also agreed.

"He’s just a bad person."

Agreed again.

Maybe because his thinking was too simplistic, sometimes he’d skip over thoughts that should’ve been obvious. Like the suffering of those he couldn’t see, or the hardships and trials he would face later, or even the inevitable failures he was bound to meet.

Apparently, not everyone lived like that.

"They’re just burdened with too much worry. Poor things, really."

"I think it's more because their vessels are too small to contain anything more."

Let’s just admit it. Rather than saying others are lacking, it’s just that these Gios are strange. If even one in a hundred people were different, they’d be called peculiar. But Gio had met well over a hundred people in his life, and not one was like him. So his peculiarity wasn’t just peculiar—it was something else entirely.

So yes, he was irresponsible. A bystander. A hedonist.

"How am I any different?"

In the end, even if he was vastly different, Zeorge was still just another "Gio."

"Don’t deny it."

"It’s not like I did, so why are you saying it like that?"

"Ah, scary... You’re really mad, huh."

"At this rate, the priest’s going to become an evil god."

"Is everyone having a great time? Am I the only one who feels sorry for these poor, blameless victims, my conscience-free friends?"

"Congrats on becoming the embodiment of wrath."

And so, a thought came to him.

Maybe he shouldn’t be living so much like a Gio.

"Why do you have to say such painful things...?"

"Are you discriminating because I came from an evil god?"

"I think we all got lumped in together, so it’s not really discrimination."

"Ah, well, that’s true."

For once, he felt a real sense of crisis.

There were many reasons for it.

Sure, he already thought the world had gone to hell. But actually seeing people he knew die like scarecrows? It turned his stomach.

And then there were the reactions from people like Yoo Seong-Woon, who, no matter how many times Gio explained things, still only saw him as human.

But there was one decisive reason among them...

...

Now that he thought about it, not a single one of these Gios had a happy ending.

Wait.

Does that mean me too?

***

"I just thought, maybe that bad ending would be this year."

"Oh."

"What do you think?"

"Oh..."

Half-awake, Yoo Seong-Woon ran a hand down his face.

"So what's the conclusion? Are you vowing to end Earth within the year?"

"Quite the opposite, actually."

"Then you do feel responsible, huh?"

"That’s one of the reasons, yes."

Gio continued in a calm voice to Yoo Seong-Woon, who sat in front of him.

"I understand what you’re thinking. From a curator's perspective, I’m closer to a piece of art. I’m literally a haunted portrait.

Even if some event were to happen on Earth because of me, as a 'work,' I know there’s no liability or reason for me to take responsibility."

"Honestly, I don’t really get why you feel so responsible either. Even if I consider you a person and not a work, you’re not the one who’s causing all this. It’s Zeorge, right? Strictly speaking, he’s the one who set it all in motion, not you."

As always, Yoo Seong-Woon wore a calm smile.

"Then isn’t there no need to blame yourself?"

"I’m not blaming myself. I’m actually not very prone to that kind of thing."

"But you do think there's something here that you ought to clean up, don’t you?"

"It’s true that I was the passageway through which Zeorge came. And the Symbols of Eternity were my students.

If your friend starts down a twisted path, don’t you feel compelled to do something?"

"See, that’s the part I can’t quite sympathize with."

"I consider that a pretty normal emotional response."

Reaping what you sowed was an obvious truth for Gio.

Whether he was a diligent person in daily life was irrelevant.

In a situation where people he was familiar with were dying, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of duty.

"Which is why I’d like to make a proposal."

"Let’s hear it, my friend."

"I want to act independently for a while. Even just briefly."

"My friend?"

Yoo Seong-Woon gave him a bitter look.

"Finally sick of me?"

"I have no idea why you say things like that. I'd really prefer you didn’t."

"That dead-serious tone is scary enough to make me stop... but still, do you really have to go that far?

If you’re going off on your own, I feel like things are going to get five times scarier."

"It’s only a temporary separation. You can be assured, but even then, I can’t promise not to cause trouble."

"Truly amazing, Gio..."

Covering his face for a moment, Yoo Seong-Woon nodded with a chuckle.

"Well, I’ll leave that part to the Guildmaster."

"Aren’t you passing the hardest part to Bisa Beul?"

"That’s what workplace superiors are for."

"That’s a little too much ‘superior.’"

"Anyway, I’m your curator. And your friend too."

"That sounds exactly like you're saying you’ll help just that much and no more."

"Isn’t that fair? We haven’t had proper conversations like this lately anyway."

With that, Yoo Seong-Woon let out a huge yawn.

Having decided to push things onto Bisa Beul, the tension drained from him.

That calm, painted-on smile from earlier was nowhere to be seen.

Rubbing his neck, Yoo Seong-Woon asked again.

"Was this fight really that shocking? I mean, before, you just seemed to go along with everything...."

Yoo Seong-Woon didn’t believe that Gio had truly been shaken by the deaths of humans.

Like all mystical beings, it was probably just one of the ways they mimicked humans—putting on an act of being ‘shocked.’

He likely just needed a legitimate excuse to justify some change in behavior.

But still, this reaction was different from usual.

It was a situation worth paying close attention to.

While thinking through the differences from normal, Yoo Seong-Woon asked,

"Is it because you’re familiar with the Collector’s employees or the priests of the Moon Sect?"

"That’s part of it. I definitely feel more attachment to them than some stranger I hardly know."

"What kind of god gets this sentimental...? Hmm. I’m a little worried, to be honest."

"In what way?"

"There’s no upside to a god forming attachments to humans. Not for either party."

There are exceptions, sure, like the saints.

But even that wasn’t because the divine developed attachments to saints.

That was something more vast, a more merciful, encompassing kind of ‘love.’

If anything, it resembled a natural disaster or a black hole.

"But someone like you, who changes due to affection for humans—that’s dangerous."

For both the divine and the mortal.

Of course, in Gio’s case, ‘affection’ wasn’t quite the right word to describe how affected he was by a human’s death.

Still, the fact that his behavior had shifted, even slightly, remained true.

Yoo Seong-Woon asked with slight awkwardness, but in a teasing tone,

"Are you going to say it’s okay because I’m just an ordinary human again?"

"No, I understand what concerns you."

"Really? That’s a relief."

"Indeed, in certain respects, I’m not ordinary."

But Gio’s world always turned from his own perspective, so calling himself an ‘ordinary human’ was natural to him.

He knew that too.

It’s just that ‘that fact’ didn’t really matter to him.

Until now.

"It’s just... I thought now was the perfect time."

"Perfect time for what?"

"Humans are constantly changing creatures, aren’t they?"

"...You know, that’s not exactly a very human thing to say."

"That’s unfortunate."

He didn’t really think he wasn’t a normal human.

He was just a haunted portrait. That’s all.

A minor existence, drifting through life.

He watched, he enjoyed, he stood by.

But he wasn’t blind to reality.

Now that this had come into view, he had the will to act.

And because a young priest begged him to save her family.

"Ah, right...."

Yes, that was it.

"I-Sol made a wish to me."

"...Ah, fuck...."

"As an adult, shouldn’t I at least try to grant it?"

"......."

Yoo Seong-Woon let out a very tired laugh.

"It’s over, then."

It seemed that way.

‘Maybe things could’ve passed by without issue.’

This was no ordinary request—it was made to the Origin.

Even if it had happened to any other ‘work’ under the Collector, it would’ve been alarming.

But for Gio’s portrait to be showing signs of taking action himself? It was spine-chilling.

For beings like this, the problem wasn’t how helpful or beneficial their kindness or actions were.

Their mere involvement could be a disaster.

The potential alone was enough to drive people mad.

‘And in most cases, that potential does become disaster.’

So ideally, he hoped this portrait wouldn’t get too emotionally invested in human affairs.

Wouldn’t become too humanized.

He could think of himself as human, sure.

But once that took root... things got complicated.

‘Still, things have already reached this point....’

It really felt like something he shouldn’t get involved with.

“...Can you wait here for a bit? I’ll go speak to the Guildmaster.”

"Oh, you're going? That’s faster than I expected." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

"There’s nothing good in delaying this sort of thing."

Leaving Gio seated where he was, Yoo Seong-Woon got up to exit the temporary tent.

Feeling a bit better, he slipped back into the coat he had taken off earlier.

"Oh, right—what if the Guildmaster says no?"

"Hmm, well...."

Gio smiled.

"I might run away."

"Good grief."

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed with him.

***

“...I suppose the final reason really was the decisive one.”

Bisa Beul, who had gladly welcomed Yoo Seong-Woon’s visit, stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“Mystics are weak to the wishes of sentient beings, after all.”

“In Cha I-Sol’s case, she’s technically... well, Gio’s apostle of sorts.”

“If things have gone that far, it’ll be hard to turn the divine will around.”

“That’s why I came to see you, Guildmaster.”

“Really now, everyone loves dumping the hard jobs on me.”

Bisa Beul smirked with mock exasperation.

“You always take care of the annoying stuff anyway, so I’ll let this one slide. You’ve gotten a bit cuter since befriending that charming portrait, Curator Yoo Seong-Woon.”

“......”

“Ah... that indescribably corporate expression of yours is truly delightful.”

Bisa Beul chuckled, then turned toward the blond-haired priest, Kang Seodam.

“What are your thoughts on this situation?”

“...If I need to bang my head on the floor, I will.”

“Goodness, why would you say something like that?”

“...Ha...”

Kang Seodam had been wondering why he was summoned during such a rare break time—especially when everyone was resting before a proper search for the ‘correct answer’ began. He never imagined something this catastrophic had occurred.

He thought of Cha I-Sol, the priest-in-training who had dashed off to her god, leaving his line of sight.

‘Her face didn’t look good, now that I think of it.’

He understood. Cha I-Sol was young. Her attachment to her family ran deep. She’d suffered greatly in a dungeon she never should’ve been in to begin with. And now she’d witnessed her family turning into a monster—or something even worse.

Kang Seodam held back another sigh that threatened to escape. He had to take responsibility.

“First, let me apologize.”

“That’s really not necessary. I know you’ve been attentive to Cha I-Sol. You’ve done all you could. If the trainee made a rash decision despite that, what more can you do?”

“...As you likely know, a trainee’s rash behavior often points to a failure in their priest’s care. I would appreciate the chance to take responsibility.”

He could’ve made plenty of excuses for why he’d missed the signs, but in the end, they were just that—excuses. There was no justifying the fact that the divine had already been moved in both heart and action.

‘At least it’s a divine who understands humans.’

But that alone wasn’t enough to bring peace of mind.

“...I heard Hunter Sergio wishes to act independently. Could you tell me more about what that entails? If possible, I’d like to accompany him, even partially, to shoulder some of the responsibility...”

“I haven’t heard any specifics.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shook his head.

“I don’t even know exactly what he wants. Sorry. I woke up startled and rushed here for an emergency meeting. For now, he’ll stay put until you give your decision, so that much is something to be grateful for.”

“...I see.”

“But judging from what he said, I don’t think he plans to take anyone along. As a priest, you probably know this already, but being among humans imposes a lot of restrictions—due to attention, due to faith. He probably just wants to move freely.”

“......”

Kang Seodam held back another sigh.

‘Didn’t she learn not to casually make wishes to a divine being?’

Especially when the person was particularly beloved by the divine or held a high rank within their holy power—those cases were especially dangerous. The odds of a divine responding to such a wish were far higher.

Of course, Cha I-Sol would’ve known this too. Kang Seodam had warned her repeatedly, considering her unique circumstances.

So she had to have known—if she did something like this, there would be consequences. Possibly enormous ones she herself couldn’t handle.

Cha I-Sol was a gentle yet perceptive, intelligent student.

‘...At least she’s better than that bastard evil god, probably.’

Compared to the nuisance still whispering at his ear, Cha I-Sol—who made a heartfelt wish to her kind god—was a thousand times better.

Kang Seodam decided to find comfort in that.

Brushing the corner of his mouth, he looked over at Bisa Beul.

“What are your thoughts, Guildmaster Bisa Beul?”

“If we don’t want to earn Hunter Sergio’s resentment, we should probably allow it.”

“There might be room to negotiate on other aspects, like in any divine contract...”

“That depends on his goals. Better to hear what Hunter Sergio wants first.”

Bisa Beul turned toward Yoo Seong-Woon.

“Could you summon Hunter Sergio and the trainee priests for us?”

The sight of the situation growing ever more complex was... amusing to Bisa Beul, who smiled.

***

At that same time.

“...Ah.”

Left alone in the makeshift quarters, Gio sat quietly, when a sudden thought occurred.

‘Am I... a problem child?’

Now that he thought about it, asking for independent action in a military-like organization like this—

Wasn’t that... kind of insane?