The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 165

Joo-Hyun often felt sympathy for that immense mystery.

“......”

Gio’s portrait.

“...Haa....”

Joo-Hyun knew very well how absurd the thought was.

Lying in a lavish, overstuffed bed that didn’t suit her status, she couldn’t fall asleep and eventually got up. Her mind was clear, but just in case sleep might come, she didn’t turn on the lights. Instead, she went to the kitchen and drank some water.

“......”

Clink.

She set the glass down.

“...This isn’t something someone like me should be doing.”

Even after drinking the cool water, the tightness in her chest wouldn’t go away.

‘To dare feel pity for a mystery...’

A divine being—one who might trap a beloved disciple in eternity out of pure affection, or turn someone into a fool simply for asking for wisdom.

If Gio wasn’t the one she pitied—if he hadn’t seen himself as human and shown mercy—then receiving divine punishment for arrogance wouldn’t be surprising.

‘But if it weren’t Gio in the first place, I wouldn’t even be having these thoughts.’

The reason humans never pity immense mysteries isn't just out of fear of offending them or being noticed and cursed. It’s that humans aren’t even capable of pitying such beings.

Who could possibly pity a typhoon or a tsunami that devours countless lives? Who would feel compassion for a galaxy shining far away, thinking it might be lonely? But even so, this being called Gio...

“......”

He wasn’t even human. Yet he felt more like her than anyone else.

“...Please, don’t overstep your bounds.”

The reason Joo-Hyun had always acted without shame despite being an overlooked orphanage child was because she believed it would bring happiness to more people. But what about Gio? Could she truly bring happiness to him?

‘He’s already happy.’

You can tell from his words. You can tell from his face. You can tell from his voice and gestures. The many versions of “Gio” held within that portrait had lived fulfilled lives, and each died accordingly.

It was not something she had the right to pity.

“......”

And yet.

“I must be out of my mind.”

How could she not feel sorry for him?

‘He was only twenty-four.’

The more she tried not to think about it, the more persistently the thought gripped her.

‘Only twenty-nine. Thirty-two.’

Human lifespans vary across dimensions. Joo-Hyun, once a researcher at the association, knew that. Some places had an average lifespan of fifty years. Others, five hundred. But that wasn’t the point.

Mid-twenties to early thirties. Maybe not all Gio’s were like that—but so far, yes. They died just as they were getting used to human life, just when they were about to bloom and bear fruit.

‘How could that not be pitiful?’

How could it possibly not be?

‘People who died in the most miserable ways... not in some alien place, but in the most familiar arms.’

Joo-Hyun consciously exhaled.

“......”

4 a.m.

“...Didn’t Yoo Seong-Woon say he holds meetings around this time?”

She tried to redirect her thoughts.

‘Yes, think about Yoo Seong-Woon. I should learn from him.’

Mysteries are mysteries. No matter how human they appear, their essence is different. Even if they mimic human life, it’s just play—fleeting enjoyment at best.

Yoo Seong-Woon knew this very well. That’s why, no matter what past the portrait of Gio held, no matter what problems arose, he respected and loved it. As a ‘work of art.’

“......”

But if that feels repulsive... am I just crazy?

“...Honestly....”

Yoo Seong-Woon had said the portrait was part of a vast system called the Origin. That if it were a human body, it would be the eyes. And since the Origin loves all life equally, ‘Gio’ continually experiences life.

Could it be that’s why Gio always experiences the highest heavens and the lowest gutters?

‘So the Origin can gather human data more efficiently?’

A blank canvas that could become anything.

“...It’s really not easy.”

Becoming friends with a mystery... was truly a difficult thing.

“There’s not even one worry I can ease.”

Joo-Hyun was grateful to Gio.

She didn’t know nothing about mysteries. She knew well what divinity was. Yet Gio had asked to become friends—as a person—and had extended kindness as one.

She was grateful for that.

At times, Gio would act and laugh just like any young man of his age.

‘If I already feel this overwhelmed just from seeing him act like a human a few times... what’s going to happen later?’

Just seeing him act human a handful of times already left her breathless.

“......”

With a deep sigh, Joo-Hyun muttered as she returned to the bedroom.

“...Maybe it’s time to consult a professional.”

She would probably have to ask Yoo Seong-Woon for advice.

***

“These are the documents for the A-Class dungeon, ‘The Four-Legged Rainforest Underground.’”

Yoo Seong-Woon handed the files to Bisa Beul.

“It’s classified as a villa-type dungeon, located beneath Hwanseon Cave in Samcheok, Gangwon Province. Excluding the Sun Church and the Collector’s Guild, there are three participating guilds: Eunwol, Haeryeong, and Daecheong.”

“Guess that’s to be expected, with the Sun Church organizing it.”

“They’re all known for good reputations. Especially Eunwol—they’ve collaborated with the Sun Church several times, so their trust rating is higher. They even make up 12% of the church’s internal personnel.”

The church headquarters didn’t consist of priests alone. There were attendants and maids helping with daily life, kitchen staff handling {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} meals, and administrators managing various facilities.

The guild Eunwol had steadily provided such personnel to the Sun Church and the Moon Church. They had many devout followers and were famous for their large number of healers.

“I checked to see if there was any entanglement with the Moon Church since Eunwol’s involved, but they don’t seem interested this time. Looks like they won’t be getting involved in the raid.”

“I’m familiar with the Moon Church’s situation recently.”

Bisa Beul smiled lightly.

“There’s been some trouble with their saintess.”

“Probably not something I should know, then.”

“She’s on the verge of madness, apparently...”

“Please don’t tell me—I’ll never be able to forget it.”

“I don’t recall hiring anyone with such poor memory.”

“Exactly.”

Yoo Seong-Woon looked exasperated.

“Even if I’ve been studying religion lately, I’m no expert. You know that.”

“I’m not asking you to solve anything.”

“If you didn’t expect anything from me, you wouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.”

“Well, let’s move on from that part for now.”

“We’re moving on?”

“The saintess isn’t the focus right now, is she?”

Bisa Beul asked,

“What’s the atmosphere like in the other two guilds?”

“Haeryeong’s thrilled. They heard it’s going to be a wild fight...”

“Infamous pyromaniacs.”

Haeryeong was famous for its energetic members. “Energetic” being a polite way of saying they were brawlers. Their resistance to pain and immunity to poison made them a vicious group of warriors who didn’t die easily.

Yoo Seong-Woon continued.

“Daecheong is quiet. They seem content to have picked up a stable contract.”

“Daecheong’s a textbook example of a competent guild.”

Daecheong wasn’t a flashy guild. Though high-ranking, they were clearly outmatched by the others in this raid. But their strength lay in reliability.

“They handle the basics wherever they go.”

They didn’t have outrageous abilities like the top three guilds, nor the spiritual depth of Eunwol, nor the berserkers of Haeryeong. But they got the job done. That was their strength.

Bisa Beul smiled.

“Seems the Church put a lot of thought into this.”

“They probably want a stable strategy.”

“Especially after failing to conquer this dungeon before, even with decent personnel.”

“There’s concern they might be over-deploying internally.”

“Well, after the terror incident last year, they should be overdoing it.”

The Sun Church and the Moon Church were the two pillars of the religious world—coexisting yet always in competition.

But after the “Nation of the Deep Sea” incident last year, the Sun Church had been shaken and lost face. They couldn’t afford another failed raid.

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“Yeah, I looked into it... This dungeon is tricky regardless of its rating.”

Fake suns and moons rise and fall at will, making it hard to track time. Most of the overgrown vegetation attacks invaders or emits poison. Even just brushing against them can slice skin with their sharp edges.

“The plants are one thing, but the four-legged monsters here are incredibly aggressive. They target and eliminate anything that walks on two legs.”

“If a human walks on all fours, do they get spared?”

“They spare you by turning you into a fellow four-legged beast. Depending on your past actions and thoughts, your beast form differs. It was fascinating.”

“With that kind of metaphysical imprint, this dungeon might be close to the Origin.”

“That’s why a gardener will be joining the team. I found out through my own network—it’s a gardener from Eunwol.”

Though gardeners seemed affiliated with the government or association, they weren’t strictly under their control. They inherited gardens from their teachers and lived according to their own responsibilities and styles—almost like a family trade.

This Eunwol gardener was one of them. Just as Yoo Seong-Woon was a curator under the Collector’s Guild, she was a guild member under Eunwol. Gardeners were rare but existed everywhere.

“If it’s a dungeon close to the Origin, valuable material might surface.”

“I think the Eunwol guildmaster didn’t even know her identity.”

“It’s not a big secret—just a side gig, really.”

Most guild members legally had two or three jobs. Some, like Yoo Seong-Woon, openly admitted to being gardeners. But most, like the Eunwol gardener, didn’t bother mentioning it.

Very few even understood the Origin. Why go through the hassle of explaining it? If not for Bisa Beul’s obsession, Yoo Seong-Woon wouldn’t have mentioned it either.

“Well, I see it as a good opportunity.”

Yoo Seong-Woon spoke as a gardener.

“It’s a stable environment—for Gio’s first raid.”

“I fully agree, Curator Yoo.”

Bisa Beul looked bored.

“I put a lot of thought into this.”

“Sending the Origin’s eyes into human society—it’s still not enough.”

“But Sergio isn’t the type to cause trouble, right?”

He clicked his tongue.

“With so many capable people around, I wonder if our Hunter Sergio will even get the chance to act up.”

“I told you, this isn’t about releasing a wild beast for stress relief.”

“Just imagine how frustrated Argio must be. We haven’t even given him a proper battlefield...”

“Even if that weren’t the case.”

The objective of this raid was clear. Argio, under the identity of ‘Hunter Sergio,’ would be integrated into human society. The Collector’s Guild would observe this “portrait of Gio” and analyze his condition.

How violent is he? How does he show goodwill? How does he collaborate with humans? What kind of battle does Argio truly desire? Would sparring suffice? Are prepared fights enough? Or does he only seek pure, unrestrained bloodshed?

“Don’t you feel tempted to join such an interesting mission, Curator Yoo?”

“Of course I want to go. It’s Gio’s first raid, after all...”

But the situation wasn’t ideal. Yoo Seong-Woon was always in demand, both as a skilled hunter and as a gardener. He hadn’t slept in five days already.

“Even if I tried to join like this, the Church would never accept me in this state.”

“If you recovered with one of Gio’s gifts, maybe it’d work. But I agree, this might be a good chance.”

Bisa Beul smiled slyly.

“Isn’t it time for Mr. Sergio to become independent from your care?”

“A work of art should never be separated from its curator. We don’t need more threats to Earth.”

“Anyway, we can’t just send Hunter Sergio alone.”

“You say that like you’re doing me a favor...”

Yoo Seong-Woon looked stunned.

“You were actually thinking of sending the Origin out there alone?”

“I know it’s risky. That’s why I’m assigning escorts—now.”

“Shouldn’t we be calling them surveillance instead of escorts?”

“More like caretakers, really...”

“If you dote on him too much, Gio might feel overwhelmed.”

“That’s why I’m only including one curator.”

“Ah.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“You’re sending the fifth floor curator?”

“The most gently insane among them.”

“Someone with an exceptional love for their work.”

“I’ll gather the rest from the trainee teams and field staff.”

“That sounds about right.”

“Doesn’t it?”

Bisa Beul grinned.

He was already excited to see what kind of shape the portrait would take.