The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 362
“Guildmaster!”
“......”
“I’m reporting in! Currently, among Korea’s middle-aged and elderly population—!”
“Stop.”
“Guildmaster?”
“I said stop.”
“......”
“You don’t need to say it... I already know.”
Seo Seo-Hee murmured, clutching his face, which for once was visibly contorted.
“This is fucked.”
The “Promise of Eternity” had broken.
***
The impact of that broken promise didn’t just affect those still on Earth.
“Ah... of course.”
Even someone as senior as Bisa Beul was obviously among those affected.
“Now that you mention it, yes... there was something like that. It flared up once, then disappeared.”
“...The system seems almost completely non-functional, so I guess the ‘Promise of Eternity’ really did collapse. But what was it exactly? Everyone’s been murmuring since earlier—can someone explain this to me?”
“Well, this is something you’d have to be middle-aged or older in today’s Korea to understand. Especially in your case, Yoo Seong-Woon—I wouldn’t expect you to know. Your age, your childhood environment...”
Bisa Beul blinked his lemon-yellow eyes, fingers resting on his chin. For once, he wasn’t smiling. His expression was unreadable, and his tone flat as he began to explain the situation.
“There was a well-known god in the early days of the Great Catastrophe.”
“...One god? Please don’t tell me it’s that person.”
“Apologies, but yes. No one ever figured out the god’s actual name, but the religion itself was relatively famous.”
“You’re calling it a ‘religion,’ so I guess it wasn’t just some small cult?”
“Back then, it wasn’t exactly a time when people could afford to distinguish between cults and religions. But yes, this one was fairly organized and decently scaled.”
It wasn’t one of the problematic ones either. At a time when torture, cannibalism, and live sacrifice were shockingly common in many faiths, this group simply revered their god with sincere devotion and love.
“I’ve heard they did community service. Handed out food to refugees, helped rebuild villages. They even volunteered to hunt monsters. The fact that they had the means to do all that tells you they were pretty well-funded.”
“......”
“The unusual part, though, was that they didn’t worship some abstract divine being—they revered a living human. That alone is enough to get them labeled a cult...”
“...Don’t tell me it was...”
“Most likely, it was a religion started by the Symbol of Eternity. It was popular at the time. No one knew who the god they worshipped was, but the Association President’s face was front and center on ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) all their materials.”
Bisa Beul tapped beneath his eye, as if thumbing through old memories.
“What was it again? They had a well-known prayer...”
“There was a prayer?”
“Told you they were organized. Ah, right.”
He snapped his fingers.
‘“Let it be painted upon the canvas.”’
“......”
Yoo Seong-Woon gave the weary smile of a man about to collapse.
“Just hearing that is enough to guess who they meant.”
“I never said you were wrong about your suspicions, Yoo Seong-Woon. But yes—it seems that’s how it is.”
“If he tries to argue he’s just an ordinary person after this, I really don’t know what I’ll do.”
“That’s the paradox every curator must learn to endure when it comes to dealing with mystics.”
“Seriously, I don’t even... I don’t know what to say.”
“At this point, I imagine the outside world’s in quite a stir as well.”
At the very least, both Yoo Seong-Woon and Bisa Beul knew what the Symbol of Eternity had sacrificed.
No one had imagined that just regaining memories of a guy who always insisted, “I’m just a normal person,” would cause this kind of ripple effect.
“Now that I think about it, I can see what the Symbol of Eternity was trying to do back then. They were probably trying to turn a living person into a god. Making a god to your own liking—what a fun little project.”
“I don’t think it’s very fun, Guildmaster.”
“That’s because to you, it’s just part of the job you’re stuck doing late into the night. But anyone who lived in the central region at the time probably knows. The religion’s primary activity zone was a forested area, and of course, it was centered around that region...”
“That region had a huge population. You’re saying half of Korea’s population back then might’ve known about it?”
“I remember being a little interested in it myself. Maybe annoyed. Anyway, the very idea of turning a living human into a god is fascinating, isn’t it? The religion wasn’t loud about it, more like... subtly pervasive.”
“Did it even have a name?”
“‘Portrait.’”
Bisa Beul smiled faintly.
“Yes, it was called ‘Portrait.’”
It was a name that clearly expressed a desire to preserve a living person. Even back then, Bisa Beul thought it was quite obsessive. There was a definite sense of fixation.
“...Hm...”
“...What are you thinking so hard about?”
“I was just wondering how this would be interpreted on modern Earth.”
“How do you think people will take it?”
“If we manage the narrative well, it could pass quietly without too much fuss.”
“After all this?”
“Well, Earth already has the Black Cloak Enthusiasts, doesn’t it?”
They were even formally recognized as a religion. More importantly, their object of worship—Black Cloak—was kind to humans, and humans returned that kindness.
“Now that it’s all out in the open, people are bound to realize that the god of ‘Portrait’ and Black Cloak are essentially the same entity. Still, most will probably just treat it as a quirky, feel-good religion created by the Symbol of Eternity.”
“A feel-good religion...? What even is that?”
“I admit the drop in credibility lately is a concern. But overall, public trust in the Symbol of Eternity is still solid—at least in the capital area. I’d say we can frame the religion as something originally created for Earth’s protection and prosperity.”
“You realize that ending just made everything sound worse, right?”
“Well, President Dan Haera did once establish it, and now it’s been ‘revived.’ It’s a familiar trope—an old faith brought back because of a broken system.”
“...Wait...”
Yoo Seong-Woon frowned.
“Then doesn’t this basically reveal that the system was Black Cloak all along? It’s pretty clear they weren’t enemies, and the timing of his return and the system’s collapse is just too perfect. Won’t people start blaming him? Saying he caused the system failure?”
“Well, at least we don’t have to worry about being labeled a cult. ‘Portrait’ was ethical and moderate—even back then, it was hard to find any faults. People won’t resent it for coming back. As for those concerns... let’s see... most people have already figured out how to live without the system.”
“Still, you’re telling me they actually turned a living person into a god. That’s at least... morally gray.”
“Considering all the things the Association already does, and how most people just accept them—honestly, it’ll probably just be seen as, ‘Ah, our Association President really had great foresight.’ Sure, people might ask why such a wonderful god was hidden for so long...”
Then Bisa Beul tilted his head and corrected himself.
“No, no. If we spin it right, we can say it was a necessary condition for creating the system. That the god had to be sealed to maintain order. Since the system really did help humanity, people will accept it.”
“......”
“When you think about it, that’s not even far from the truth. Right now, it just feels chaotic because an unexpected religion popped up, but with the Symbol of Eternity’s influence and power, it’s not unmanageable.”
“...There will still be issues.”
“In the end, everything comes down to presentation, doesn’t it? No need to act too naïve, Curator Yoo. Big or small, anything can be quietly handled—that’s what our government and the Association are for.”
“Does ‘quietly handled’ count as ‘honorably’ now?”
“It’s just a figure of speech. As always.”
It wasn’t like some completely unrelated religion had randomly popped up. Black Cloak had already naturally taken root—like one of Korea’s older faiths.
Maybe there would be some grumbling from the Black Cloak fans or the original Portrait followers, but it wasn’t anything too hard to deal with. Who would complain about a religion that rewarded good deeds with tasty treats?
“What we really need to worry about isn’t the media.”
“Then what about Gio? Is he okay?”
“Ah, finally asking the right question.”
“I was thinking about it from the start. I just didn’t say it out loud while trying to process the situation.”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
“Do you think this is why he went off on his own?”
“I can’t say it’s not.”
“Aaah, Gio...!”
Even the breeze through the leaves made Yoo Seong-Woon groan in distress. Truly, a proper curator.
“......”
Before long, Aram approached the group.
“...Guildmaster of the Collectors.”
“Oh, Bishop. What brings you here?”
“I’ll skip the pleasantries. I believe we’ve all grasped the basics of the situation.”
“Yes, by all means.”
“We had a discussion among the priests.”
Aram hesitated, then spoke.
“They say the god worshipped by ‘Portrait’... met a very gruesome end.”
“That matches my memory as well.”
Not many knew the full story. Bisa Beul estimated that the Symbol of Eternity must’ve enacted the ‘Promise of Eternity’ almost immediately after the incident to erase everyone’s memories.
But Bisa Beul had placed informants within Portrait and had connections with their followers. That’s how he knew how it all ended.
“He became... a walking corpse, didn’t he?”
The god of Portrait, turned into a living corpse by beasts who sought to consume him.
“I’ve heard... that his state was something no human eye should have witnessed.”
“And now that god has returned—should we be worried?”
“Judging by the Black Cloak’s actions, he doesn’t behave like an evil god.”
“That may be so... but I can’t shake the image of how he died as a human.”
“The lives of gods who were once human are almost always horrific.”
Bisa Beul smiled faintly.
“To suffer so terribly... and still show this much love—how could he not be a god?”
Even after becoming a corpse, the god hadn’t been able to die. Turned into a speechless hunk of meat... how many days had he survived like that?
‘...Well. Who really pays attention to a god’s suffering?’
***
“Teacher.”
“Yes.”
“What if I... said I wanted to suffer the same pain?”
Covered in blood, Dan Haera asked as she lay in the warm grass.
“If I said I wanted to endure the same pain as you...”
“What would that change?”
“......”
“...This isn’t scolding. Or, well... maybe I should scold you, but I’m genuinely asking out of curiosity. I mean it. I just don’t think it would change anything.”
“...Maybe it would at least give someone a little peace of mind?”
“Doubt it. Not for me, anyway.”
How refreshing—such perfect nonsense.
Even though he always looked like that, Gio’s expression stiffened. What use was it to watch someone else suffer? The most pointless thing in the world. He could understand why she was saying it, but he didn’t like it.
“Hmm. Well, anyway...”
Even with all his memories returned—
“Did you think I’d be angry?”
“...Why? Doesn’t seem like you wouldn’t be.”
“You’ve become a coward since I last saw you.”
“We met just recently.”
“Exactly. Since then.”
Why did they all turn into frightened rabbits just by breathing around him?
“What was going through your head back then?”
“......”
“...I am genuinely asking.”
“......”
“......”
The conversation wasn’t going anywhere.
Gods above, he thought.
He felt like he was going to explode.
Maybe she was acting a little too lightly for the severity of the situation.
But really, honestly—everything other than the food she’d eaten was none of Sergio’s concern.
And above all...
There wasn’t anything to be angry about.
“......”
Truly.
The teacher looked down at his student.
