The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 369

Yoo Seong-Woon's reaction to Gio's newly proactive attitude was as follows.

"Just don’t try to conquer the Earth, and I’ll be thankful."

"I’ll try to govern wisely."

"......"

"I’m joking."

Really.

Even after quite some time, Yoo Seong-Woon didn’t drop his suspicious gaze. Gio decided to reflect on himself. It felt like he had done something terrible to someone who was already under a lot of stress.

"I was wrong."

"Are you sincere?"

"I am."

"Give me trust."

"That doesn’t mean I can physically manifest trust."

"If it’s you, you could."

"Are you trying to challenge me or something?"

Still, even so, there wasn’t anything in particular to do right away.

"You sounded like you were going to perform a miracle or something."

"That’s unfair. I never said I would perform a miracle."

"When you speak as if you'll somehow take care of everything, it just sounds that way."

"I don't think I even said I would take care of everything... did I?"

And at the moment, what he could do was limited.

"Would you like to eat?"

"You’re being serious."

"I’ve never joked about things that go into someone’s mouth."

"Good grief."

"Times like this are when meals matter most."

It was true that Gio was the one who redrew this garden as a dungeon, but the owner of this place was undeniably Zeorge. Now that he had entered Zeorge’s stomach, Gio couldn't go about painting recklessly or handing out gifts the way he did on Earth.

After all, whether possessed or not, Gio was still a portrait. And he was nothing more than an ordinary person who had stepped into a painting that already had its own master. Perhaps if he were outside the painting, he could’ve shown some of his authority as a teacher...

‘But right now, that’s a bit difficult.’

Because Zeorge wasn’t an ordinary person either.

"Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t have come in here."

"That would’ve been unsettling in its own way."

"I don’t know which tune I’m supposed to dance to."

"You're turning a little red—you're not angry, are you?"

"Of course not."

Even Argio didn’t lash out all the time.

"By the way..."

With his golden eyes, Gio looked over at Yoo Seong-Woon.

"Is Aram getting along with my gift?"

"Hmm, want to go take a look?"

"I’d like that."

And so, a brief moment of rest followed.

***

The first person Gio visited was Aram, who was currently wrestling with a little dragon. They were bickering like siblings born a year apart, and the scene was quite endearing.

In response to Gio’s question, Aram answered,

"The dragon? Uh, well... it appeared when I got angry."

"Unless you were seriously angry, there’s no way the child of wrath would show up uninvited."

"To tell you the truth, I entertained the idea of not giving this dungeon’s master a pleasant death."

"Goodness."

It seemed the little dragon assigned to Aram had caught the scent of noble bloodshed and leapt out. It probably had taken interest in the battle Aram displayed last time at the ‘Dream Amusement Park.’ And sensing Aram’s rage, it had no choice but to appear.

"Thanks to that, I did end up finding the ‘correct answer.’"

"Come to think of it, there was a ‘correct answer’ elsewhere too, wasn’t there?"

"Yes. But now that I’ve figured out the purpose behind the right and wrong answers, I think continuing to search for them would just be a meaningless war of attrition."

"So you've concluded it’s now essentially a matter {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} of who can hold out longer."

"Exactly. From here on out, it’s a matter of whether we survive longer, or whether the dungeon master’s patience lasts longer."

"On that note—Aram, is there something you’d like to eat today?"

"I’m not sure what that has to do with anything, but... I’d like the scones you baked last time."

"Oh, I’ll try my best."

And so, Gio actually baked the scones. The Moon Sect priests couldn’t hide their amazement—“How did he even do that?”—but even more surprising was that this time, it wasn’t something Gio painted. Unfortunately, the current situation didn’t allow him to draw anything.

"There was flour and an oven inside that house over there."

"Do people normally think to bake scones inside some eerie house formed inside a dungeon?"

"People still have to eat, you know."

"But, I mean..."

"I swear on my god—it’s safe food. Not only harmless to humans, it’s a perfectly good snack."

"...Anyway, Hunter Sergio is right."

The Moon Sect priests quickly agreed. Even before the wrathful evil god incident, Gio had let them taste countless foods. And wherever, whenever—his cooking was always insanely good. The priests quietly helped themselves to snacks.

"......?"

"What’s wrong, Yoo Seong-Woon?"

"Uh... nothing..."

Though Yoo Seong-Woon was mentally short-circuiting—You’re eating food made from the garden’s matter?!—he soon understood and let it go. If you really wanted to argue, Yoo Seong-Woon should’ve become part of the mystery a long time ago.

Next, Gio went to visit the Collector.

"How are your eyes?"

"They’re dim. It’s fascinating—I imagine this is what actual presbyopia would feel like."

"Those shouldn’t be eyes that ever develop presbyopia..."

"They’re special in many ways. Haha, to be honest, I briefly worried Mr. Zeorge might come to take this eye back."

"He may be your friend, but perhaps also a bit of a frenemy—maybe he views it like a chicken rib: too valuable to discard, but inconvenient to keep?"

"For a chicken rib, it performs pretty well, don’t you think?"

Bisa Beul touched the corner of his eye.

"Even so, here it’s completely underperforming. But it doesn’t seem to hinder me in battle, so I suppose it’s fine. Nothing worth worrying over."

"Forgive me for saying so, but I haven’t worried much. I didn’t think that eye would cause any real issues... Like the Guildmaster said, it’s a good eye, isn’t it?"

"It’s a sad thing, not being able to make a fuss. Then why did you ask about this eye’s condition? I doubt our miraculous son would ask something so meaningless..."

"Why does everyone always assume I have some grand intention behind everything I say? But—yes, this time I do. That eye is... rather unique in this situation."

"In this situation, huh..."

"In this place, dragons are considered criminals."

"Ah."

At Gio’s words, Bisa Beul’s face—rarely—twisted. He lowered the hand that had been touching his eye and muttered with a distinctly displeased expression.

"One misstep and I’ll go blind."

"You’ve wronged your friend enough already. Even if that friend committed a sin, you wouldn’t want to block his path. You’d want to spoil him, wouldn’t you?"

"That’s... an absurd thing to say. Don’t you think?"

Bisa Beul said with an incredulous tone.

"If that were the case, he shouldn’t have created a reason for me to hesitate in the first place."

"Doesn’t seem like you feel all that kindly toward the eye’s original owner."

"Ah, our dear son should’ve seen that miserable scene himself. That dragon told me to ‘let go of my friend.’ He caused all that chaos and now claims he regrets it."

"That’s a rather desperate kind of advice."

"I’m generally kind to things that can no longer speak. In death, they’re complete. They become artwork. But I could never accept that dragon—not until the very end."

"Do you think Zeorge feels the same?"

"......"

At Gio’s question, Bisa Beul folded his arms, lost in thought.

"...Considering he calls him a frenemy, probably."

"That’s helpful insight."

"I’m glad to hear that, Hunter Sergio."

Surprisingly, it seemed Bisa Beul didn’t have a good relationship with that eye. After venting a few more complaints about the dragon, he eventually left with a laugh. He seemed ready to explain the situation to his security agent, Garasani, just in case.

Next, Gio went to visit the priests of the Church of the Sun.

"How have you been?"

"Thanks to your care, quite well."

As Priest Kang Seodam bowed his head, the hesitant Cha I-Sol folded herself in half.

"...I’m sorry!"

"I get the context, but nothing bad happened, and I’d like to end things amicably, so can we stop here, I-Sol? Could you consider how awkward it is for me to receive such an apology from a kid like you?"

"I’m sorry!"

"I didn’t mean for you to keep bowing..."

What a loud-voiced priest she was.

"At this rate, your voice will reach the heavens without prayer."

"...There actually is a training practice like that in the Church of the Sun."

"Ah, I see. So such things do exist."

While Kang Seodam and Gio conversed, Cha I-Sol continued to issue bold and frank apologies.

"Sorry...!"

"Please, stop."

"......"

Next to her, Cha I-Sol’s partner, Iru Da, looked back and forth between her, Kang Seodam, and Sergio with a subtle expression. The apology made sense, but she wasn’t sure it fit this situation.

Seeing them, Gio gave his characteristic soft smile.

"You look healthy. I’m glad."

He had been worried, since she’d seemed greatly shaken after encountering the clown version of Cha Ara. But it seemed the adults had taken care of her while Gio had been acting independently. Cha I-Sol hesitated, then nodded.

"...I know I caused trouble."

"A kid in trouble asking for help from a trusted adult—that’s not causing trouble."

"But... you’re not just any adult... you’re busy..."

"If you see me as special, then that alone is reason enough for me to act on your behalf. Besides, I didn’t even bring back meaningful results when I left like that."

"That wasn’t your fault."

"And neither was it yours. But remember, not every adult will love you like I do, I-Sol. You should be selective about who you ask for help."

"O-of course. I’m good at that kind of thing."

"I know."

Cha I-Sol was, somehow, a child specialized in the skill of ‘stretching her legs depending on where she lays.’ She was innately kind, but probably overly conscious due to being raised by a family all too good-hearted.

She was a good kid. A kind kid.

"You know I don’t get mad about stuff like that, right?"

"...I do, but..."

"It’s okay."

"...Okay."

Gio gently hugged her and patted her back. She burrowed into his arms, rubbing her face against him like a puppy. Just like the puppy they once raised together in the village.

After a long cuddle, Gio looked past Cha I-Sol, who showed no signs of letting go, and addressed her partner, the novice priest Iru Da. The girl was looking at Gio with a curious expression.

"Would you like a hug? My arms are wide, Sister Iru Da."

"...I’ll come in once Cha I-Sol comes out."

"A wise decision."

No matter how wide his arms were, two would be a tight fit.

"Are you communicating well with the one you serve?"

"Ah, I already reported to the Collector Guildmaster, and so far it’s stable. It’s hard to call it seamless—probably due to the dungeon’s nature—but there are no issues using that power."

"That’s good to hear."

"If it’s alright... may I ask a question?" 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

As Gio nodded, Iru Da hesitated before asking,

"...Is the god you serve... at peace?"

"Oh."

That adorable question moved Gio. A god who could hold such a sweet and kind child in their arms was truly blessed. Smiling warmly at the thought, Gio said,

"That’s a lovely question."

"Love... I—I’m sorry if that was an inappropriate question."

"Not at all. The Black Cloak would be pleased too."

"You must be very close."

"Indeed. We’re like one body."

"...Ah...?"

"Ah."

Still smiling, Gio blinked and looked over at Kang Seodam, who had just facepalmed.

"Was I not supposed to say that?"

"...Sister Iru Da is sharp—sharp enough to graduate early..."

"That’s impressive."

Well, it didn’t matter. It seemed she had begun to suspect Hunter Sergio might be the avatar or incarnation of the Black Cloak—but that level of suspicion wouldn’t cause any problems in social life.

Gio smiled and asked the clever young priest,

"Then, Sister Iru Da, may I ask you—do you think perfect happiness exists in this world?"

"...I—there’s no such thing. Happiness can’t be perfect."

"And if such a world could exist?"

"Then it shouldn’t. That’s what I think..."

"I see."

It was the answer he’d expected, though a little disappointing.

‘If only it were light enough to enjoy... I’d wondered.’

She had been so miserable he’d gone soft, but ultimately, Zeorge’s desire had been nothing but obsession.

What a pity.

***

"...Ah, damn."

Yoo Seong-Woon raised his head.

"The garden is shaking violently."

"There’s no message—could the equipment be broken?"

"Most likely, yes."

"No wonder we’ve had no contact lately."

Clicking his tongue, Bisa Beul asked,

"Can we file a report?"

"This looks like... a mid-boss has appeared."

"A mid-boss?"

"It’s definitely the gardener’s power."

Scratching at the frost clinging to his skin, Yoo Seong-Woon smiled that characteristically calm smile of his.

"It’s big enough to be deceiving, but this kind of resonance... only a gardener can show it."

It seemed Zeorge’s patience had run out.