The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 366

Unlike Yoo Seong-Woon, who was in no condition to hear stories of the past, Joo-Hyun had heard the name “Portrait” before.

“......?”

No—he hadn’t just heard of it. He had even received help from it.

“......!!”

Which is why, when the “Promise of Eternity” was broken and his memories returned, he couldn’t help but be even more shocked.

“Mr. Gio, what the hell is going on...!!”

Joo-Hyun, who had instinctively shouted at someone who wasn’t even there, winced and let out a groan. Judging by the absence of a letter, it seemed Gio couldn’t easily use his powers inside the “Garden of Pleasure.” And since this was Earth, inside a house no less, there was no way he’d respond to being called.

Without another moment of hesitation, Joo-Hyun headed for the Collector’s Guild.

“Ah, Mr. Joo-Hyun.”

“Sorry for the sudden visit, but have you all also...?”

“If you mean the memories from about thirty years ago, yes, they’ve returned. It seems the general population is in a similar situation.”

“No wonder the streets were in chaos on the way here.”

“The only silver lining is that the returned memories seem mostly focused on the ‘Portrait’ religion. Since it was one of the few favorable religions back then, we’re unlikely to see the Black Cloak or the Association getting stoned in the streets.”

“Right, the fact that even someone like me remembers receiving help speaks for itself.”

At the time, Korea had a strongly xenophobic atmosphere. Joo-Hyun, with his foreign appearance, had been severely ostracized even at a young age. Yet the group that had generously shared food and saved ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ people from monsters, even people like him, was none other than the religion called “Portrait.”

Not long after Joo-Hyun’s visit, the few remaining members of the Collector’s Guild immediately convened for an emergency meeting.

“Is there no way to communicate with people inside the ‘Garden of Pleasure’?”

“I heard that the Association’s equipment might have worked, but even that’s become unreliable recently. Hunters moving deeper in caused the equipment to go dead. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

“What’s surprising is that even letters from the Black Cloak haven’t arrived. Mr. Joo-Hyun mentioned that there’s been no contact and not a single letter.”

“If the Black Cloak’s powers are being blocked, this definitely isn’t your average dungeon. On top of that, the Director’s Promise was broken...”

“In other words, even the Association Director has suffered damage. Then we should prepare for the worst when it comes to our Guildmaster and Hunter Sergio’s situation.”

“Then what do we do about ‘Portrait’?”

As the topic shifted, the guild members considered their options.

“Judging by how quickly the government and Association are reacting, it seems they had some idea this might happen.”

“More than just suspicion—they clearly prepared for it. They’re mobilizing people, and that takes serious resources. This isn’t a haphazard reaction.”

“Even without the Director, they released an official statement. Apparently, the memory loss was for the sake of the ‘Promise of Eternity,’ and thanks to that, the system was created.”

“Since it was an era that benefited from the Symbols of Eternity and their system, people seem to be gradually accepting it. The government probably just wants to quell the confusion quickly.”

“That too, but it seems more like they’re trying to justify the ‘Promise of Eternity’ before public dissatisfaction grows. Just look at the speed and means of this media campaign.”

“They’re definitely putting a lot of effort into it...”

Still, the Collector’s Guild couldn’t afford to let their guard down.

“But the response toward ‘Portrait’ has been extremely passive. We received a report from Site Team 28—‘Portrait’ believers have started voicing their opinions again.”

“What claims...? What could they possibly claim at this point? That religion’s been obsolete for decades.”

“Apparently, they saw the Portrait’s god as the Black Cloak.”

A younger guild member asked,

“What common traits do they share that everyone who knows seems to know? It was a defunct religion from 30 years ago, and it didn’t even end on a good note.”

“I’m curious too. From what I heard, it wasn’t a peaceful dissolution—they were attacked. For a religion like that to make a comeback now... it’s hard to believe.”

Middle-aged guild members nodded knowingly.

“Well, I mean... both of them had the art motif, and they were generous with food.”

“Exactly. At the very least, they never let people starve.”

“I remember wondering how they managed to stockpile so much food. Back then, with so many polluted zones and constant raids, farming was nearly impossible.”

“Right? It was bizarre. Even rare sweets like chocolate kept showing up. Or things like fresh cream, butter, cakes...”

“Because of that, the Portrait followers had immense faith in their god. In a time when all trade had collapsed, such massive quantities of chocolate couldn’t be explained unless they were miraculously produced.”

“In what could easily have been called a Great Famine, it was natural to feel grateful.”

Hearing all this, a younger employee tilted their head.

“So... is that it? Just their generosity with food?”

“There was also the art—remember? The paintings.”

“You could argue they just had similar divine traits, right?”

“Well... not quite? There aren’t many gods who open dungeon shortcuts with paintings or draw monsters that aid humans.”

“There was one defining trait.”

The older department head grinned.

“Their god always wore a black cloak.”

“...You could’ve just started with that. We wouldn’t have had to go through all that.”

“Well, cloaked human-shaped gods do show up from time to time.”

At that moment, Joo-Hyun interjected with his signature earnest smile.

“If I recall correctly, not even the high-ranking officials of ‘Portrait’ knew what the living god looked like. The people now called the Symbols of Eternity never revealed him publicly.”

“But... wasn’t it common knowledge that they worshiped a human as a god? If they kept him hidden, how did that even become known?”

“I don’t know the details myself, but apparently, from time to time, the Portrait’s god would be seen taking walks cloaked in black. Back then, well, I guess...”

Joo-Hyun’s smile faded awkwardly.

“...I guess back then, he didn’t look as inhuman as he does now.”

The Collector’s Guild members nodded calmly, but Joo-Hyun, who had brought it up, felt uneasy. It made him a little sad—that someone who had once considered himself a regular human had now become something entirely not.

Erasing the expression quickly, Joo-Hyun asked,

“But even so, that alone isn’t enough to prove the Portrait’s god was human, right? Does anyone know something more definitive?”

“It’s not widely known, since it was internal to the Portrait sect, but their entire doctrine revolved around elevating the Portrait’s god to true divine status.”

A guild member scratched his head.

“I still remember, since I lived in the area where they were based.”

“Ah, you must’ve lived in the central region.”

“Yes. The feeling was that they wanted to make the Portrait’s god the rightful ruler of Earth—worthy of divinity—and to remain as his forerunners... or beloved followers.”

“Frankly, that’s kind of creepy.”

“There was backlash too. I don’t know where or how it started, but there were whispers that the god of Portrait caused the Great Catastrophe.”

“That’s... a strange take.”

“At the time, people just wanted someone to blame. Even if it didn’t make sense, they needed a sliver of hope. That’s what humans do.”

“What kind of hope is that? I really can’t see it...”

“Hope for the god of Portrait usually fell into one of two categories.”

They were simple.

“One side wanted to build their own utopia by creating a god they could claim as theirs. The other wanted to pin all sin and responsibility on the god of Portrait.”

“Creating a utopia I get, but what hope is there in blaming a god?”

“It’s obvious. If it’s all that god’s fault, then maybe things will get better if they kill him. Or if they offer him as a sacrifice to save the world.”

“I get the logic, but it still feels... wrong.”

Another guild member frowned.

“In the end, it’s just shoving all the blame on an innocent person, right? Like a kid throwing a tantrum, demanding that you fix it—because you can, and you must.”

“In short, yeah.”

“And to turn a normal person into a god, they’d have needed all kinds of mystical manipulations, faith rituals... the burden must’ve been unimaginable.”

“No one cared. It’s a miracle they didn’t go as far as live sacrifices, considering the state of the world back then.”

“I know the world’s still a mess now, but the early days of the Catastrophe... the more I hear, the more it sounds like horror fiction. It’s a wonder humanity didn’t go extinct.”

Just then, a guild member sorting field reports grimaced.

“Before we talk about ethics and all that... there’s something you need to see. At exactly 3:36 PM today—just moments ago—there was contact between former Portrait believers and current Black Cloak enthusiasts.”

“...Contact? What kind of contact?”

“Doesn’t sound like a pleasant one. Might even escalate into a fight.”

“Why would people who worship the same god even fight?”

“Religious groups always love in-fighting. Just look at the Church of the Sun. That tells you everything you need to know about faith.”

“Seriously, why...”

The department head, bearing both power and responsibility, sighed and almost teared up.

“...Ha. Alright. Even if they worship the same god, if their attitude and devotion differ, then of course a fight could happen.”

“They probably think each other blasphemous. One side resents treating the god as just a piece of artwork, while the other is annoyed by clingers leeching off their living heritage.”

“Black Cloak enthusiasts are just that—enthusiasts...”

They didn’t expect anything from the Black Cloak. They’d do good deeds in hopes of receiving his gifts, but even without them, they were happy just being close to the artwork that was the Black Cloak.

But Portrait followers weren’t satisfied with that. They wanted a response from their god. They had built their entire religion on receiving love and favor from the Portrait god, and treated him devoutly.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

“But wouldn’t it look weird if the Collector stepped in?”

“Exactly. Officially, ‘Hunter Sergio’ is a member of the Collector—not the Black Cloak. Even if it seems like Hunter Seo serves the Black Cloak...”

“Yeah, it’d be strange for the Collector to meddle in a religious dispute.”

“There’s no precedent. We’ve always kept our distance from faith and religious groups have done the same.”

“It’d be absurd for a guild that treats divinity as art to suddenly buddy up with a church. Sergio’s the only priest-like figure we’ve got.”

“So... what do we even do with this... religious mess...”

“...Hmm...”

“......”

“......”

All eyes turned to Joo-Hyun—but he had already resigned himself minutes ago. There was simply no one more suitable.

Not a power bloc like the guild, nor a clear official—just a manager of ambiguous affiliation. And the Hunter he served was known as the apostle of the Black Cloak.

'Not to mention... I’ve already gotten to know the enthusiasts during the Gardener Incident.'

With that thought, Joo-Hyun gave his signature smile.

“...I’ll try talking to them!”

And so it was decided.

***

“Have we heard anything from Mr. Joo-Hyun?”

“I was just about to report—something came in just now.”

“Oh, faster than expected. So what’s the situation?”

“He says: ‘Please save me.’”

“...?”

The department head gave a puzzled look.

“Is he asking for backup? Maybe it was a mistake sending a civilian into a nest of zealots?”

“No, it’s not like that...”

“What the hell happened? Mr. Joo-Hyun’s the type who never complains unless it’s serious. Don’t tell me something really went down?”

“No, that’s not it.”

The guild member shook their head.

“The conflict’s gradually cooling down. The ones who were overly obsessive about getting something from the Black Cloak, or the old believers who got too worked up... he’s already calmed them down.”

“Whoa, he did all that? We sent a few staff along just in case...”

“He apparently handled it all on his own. Our staff didn’t even get the chance to step in—everyone was so fixated on the ‘Apostle of the Black Cloak’ that they completely ignored them. Our field agents are freaking out because the atmosphere was intense.”

“So what’s going on now?”

“He managed to talk them down, guided the mood, and found a compromise. The enthusiasts agreed to approach their faith with more reverence, and the old believers agreed to ease up on expecting divine compensation.”

“Oh...”

The department head let out a breath of admiration. That was actually... a pretty good outcome.

The current enthusiasts would gain more structure from the old believers, and the old believers would face less divine punishment from being overly obsessed.

“There are still some concerns, of course—but for someone who’s only been out there a week, Mr. Joo-Hyun really did well. As long as we keep things from overheating, this can be managed.”

“Seems that way.”

“No bloodshed, right?”

“There was some. A few of the zealots were too aggressive. But most of the current enthusiasts and old believers are first-class citizens... so in the end, they fought with their wallets.”

“As expected of the privileged. Even their fighting style is admirable.”

“You’re a first-class citizen too, sir.”

“I’m not poor, sure, but I’ve seen those Black Cloak fans before. They’re on another level. Different universe. No need to understand them.”

“Right...”

The staff member shrugged.

“Still, they say minor disputes are ongoing. A few especially stubborn old believers—also first-class citizens—have been raising their voices. Apparently they’re extremely tricky to deal with.”

There were even reports of more... dangerous individuals. The kind who couldn’t even be described as zealots—they were beyond that.

“They’re not just angry. They’re cold, calculated, and creepy. Some of them seem genuinely dangerous.”

The department head asked,

“So did he request backup? Should we deploy the combat team?”

“Ah... no. He said if we bring in force, the situation will spiral out of control. Those who stir up trouble with money and power can still be handled diplomatically, so we shouldn’t escalate.”

“Mr. Joo-Hyun said that?”

“Essentially, yes. In short—he didn’t ask for a combat team. If anything, he warned against it.”

“Then what did he request? Why did he say ‘save me’?”

“Well...”

The staff member, mouth twisted into a dry smile, continued flatly.

“He says he’s about to end up as the leader of a new religion.”

“Ah.”

“He wants to be rescued.”

“Why? He’s doing great.”

The guild member smiled warmly.

“Just send in some security.”

“That’s what I thought too.”

With that, the two wrapped up the short meeting, buoyed by a sense of camaraderie.

***

Bisa Beul, having received the report via the Association’s communication system, nodded.

“Mm. It seems Korea’s situation is settling down.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Then it’s time for us to fulfill our role...”

He smiled as he looked at Aram, who was holding the moon in her arms—and at the red dragon coiled around the both of them.

“Sometimes, instinct is more important than calculations. Who knew our little friend would be so capable?”

“...It’s hot...”

“Oh, come on. You two look like you’re getting along wonderfully.”

“I said it’s really hot.”

“Well, we did find the ‘answer,’ so maybe be a little forgiving?”

Chuckling quietly, he turned to Yoo Seong-Woon.

“Can you take care of it?”

“I am a Collector’s Guild member, after all.”

“Then good. Let’s go show it to the Moon Cult priests.”

Bisa Beul’s gaze settled on the crown of flowers and the letter in Yoo Seong-Woon’s hands.

“Looks like it’ll need analyzing.”

It was a moment that brought them one step closer to the answer.