The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 141

Meanwhile, Joo Hyun was—

“......”

“Kkuu.”

“...I’ll carry it.”

He was being treated to a snack by the teddy bear.

“Is this fruit tea?”

“Kku.”

“It smells wonderful. You must’ve gone through a lot of trouble. Thank you for the effort.”

“Kkukkukku....”

“And from now on, I’ll take care of what I eat myself. If that’s alright.”

He added,

“I don’t mean to use the kitchen, which the master of this house seems to cherish, recklessly. But if it’s just taking food that’s already prepared like this, I think I could do it myself.”

Careful not to offend the massive beings of mystery in this place, Joo Hyun wore his characteristic polite smile.

“I feel it’s rude to only receive help from you, sir.”

“Kku?”

“If there’s anything else I can help with, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

The teddy bear tilted its head but then nodded as if understanding.

‘I thought it might get angry, thinking I was refusing its kindness... but fortunately, it doesn’t seem that way.’

He knew that although it looked like an ordinary teddy bear, what dwelled inside was far from ordinary. Wasn’t it the being that Black Cloak called “Father”? It made Joo Hyun feel deeply uncomfortable to just keep receiving from such a great elder.

‘Being able to interact even a little with a being that dwells in a place like this is lucky enough, but...’

Joo Hyun stared in silence at the brilliantly sparkling fruit tea in front of him.

“......”

He wasn’t sure if it was really something he should be grateful for.

‘Is it okay to drink this?’

He had eaten and drunk without problems so far, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried.

‘No matter how I think about it, this place is way too distant from the human realm.’

Even among dimensions, there are those where humans can live, and others where only enormous beings like gods can dwell.

‘The fact that it appears as a forest cabin that even someone like me, an ordinary person, can perceive is amazing in itself, but even so...’

In Joo Hyun’s view, this place clearly belonged to the latter. A dimension where mysteries, not humans, reside.

‘And the act of consuming something has always been treated as a kind of ritual.’

There are countless legends of people eating divine food and experiencing astonishing miracles. Eating something here would mean stepping one foot into the dimension that food belonged to.

“...I think I’ve eaten quite a bit already...”

“Kkuu?”

“Will I still be able to walk out of here as a human?”

That was Joo Hyun’s worry. Divine favor changes humans.

‘No matter the scale or direction, that can’t be entirely safe for a human.’

Most saints and saintesses who still existed on Earth lived barely clinging to life. No one could predict how Joo Hyun would be swept up by Black Cloak’s kindness.

‘Of course, it’s better than earning hostility, but...’

After a long hesitation, Joo Hyun finally drank the fruit tea. It wasn’t just a matter of etiquette, of not casually refusing offered hospitality.

Joo Hyun let out a hollow laugh.

“...It’s delicious, as always.”

The taste was so blissful he could understand why so many humans in legends had been captivated by divine foods and lost their ability to think clearly.

The soft spring breeze, as if infused with flowers, melted into the sweet fruit tea and gently dissolved on Joo Hyun’s tongue.

‘Yeah, I’m still human.’

There was an Anticat here named Dana. That creature, which particularly hated humans, would often hiss and shy away whenever it saw Joo Hyun. It was a clear indicator that he was still human.

‘Although... the longer time passes, the less it hisses and avoids me...’

He didn’t want to believe it was a sign of anything ominous.

‘It’s just that we’re getting used to each other after being around so long. Even when I checked myself, I didn’t find anything strange. I want to believe there’s no big problem.’

Joo Hyun blinked.

“......”

Even though he had once given in to despair, now that things were like this, he had no intention of giving up being human.

“...I’ll leave as soon as I’m ready. I have to.”

“Kku.”

“Because a normal human like me can’t keep staying here.”

Humans had to live among humans, living human lives. That was Joo Hyun’s belief.

“It’s funny though. Even if I leave this place, it’s not like I’ll really be able to live like a human again...”

Joo Hyun, who remembered life before the Great Catastrophe, remembered what “living like a human” meant.

The right to live with people who love and cherish you. The chance to naturally grow through fortune and misfortune alike. When the strong protected the weak by cooperating, humanity achieved its ideal structure.

“...Mmh.”

Joo Hyun gave a sheepish smile, feeling how naïve his hopes were.

“I’m aware that the future I want is too idealistic.”

“Kkuu?”

“Gio once asked me if I wanted to achieve world peace. And... I think he was right.”

“......”

“If I could even raise a part of it up... I think the world would be much better than it is now.”

A dream is a dream. Even knowing it can’t be achieved perfectly, humans still strive because they believe they might touch a fragment of it. Joo Hyun’s dream was no different.

To grab even a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» piece of that mirage, you needed the right spirit—passion, conviction, hope—the fuel that burns through a human’s short life.

“But right now... I just don’t feel motivated. That’s why I’m hesitating to leave this place. It’s pathetic.”

He had lost too much. He had fallen into too much disillusionment.

“I don’t even know what I want to do anymore.”

He already knew that effort didn’t guarantee reward.

If the world had been one where good children were respected and rewarded, Joo Hyun wouldn’t have had to abandon his nature. If those who achieved results were properly compensated, Joo Hyun would at least have been ranked higher than a deputy.

But it was all still fine. Even if he moved slowly, sometimes regressed, or even stood still, he believed he was still inching forward.

“...I just feel hollow inside...”

And in the end, he lost everything.

“......”

“......”

“...That wasn’t a very fun story, was it.”

Joo Hyun shrugged.

“I guess I just need time to think.”

Actually, he knew very well. To think properly, he first had to deal with the emptiness inside him. Having faced misfortune and overcome it more than once, Joo Hyun knew how to stand up again.

‘But right now, I don’t even have the strength to walk out of this place on my own two feet...’

Joo Hyun gave a familiar smile and asked the teddy bear,

“Is it okay if I stay like this for a little longer?”

“Kkuu.”

The teddy bear climbed onto the table, patted Joo Hyun’s head, and then climbed down.

“Kkuku, kku.”

“...I don’t quite understand you.”

“Kkuu.”

The bear gave his thigh a gentle tap once more, then left the cabin with the Anticat. Seeing the snack bag in the cat’s mouth, it seemed they intended to spend time on the cabin bench again.

It felt as if they were deliberately giving Joo Hyun some space.

“......”

Suddenly, doubt gnawed at him again.

‘...Even non-human beings show me this kind of kindness.’

Why did I dream? For whom, and for what?

***

Arriving at the Temple of Death, Gio blinked twice.

“...It’s simpler than I thought.”

“It’s not a very popular religion.”

“More than that...”

Gio tilted his head slightly.

“It feels strongly Korean.”

When you imagine a temple, you tend to think of Renaissance architecture. The Seoul branch of the Solar Church, the Giovanni’s Solar Church—all made you think of white marble structures. So this was a bit surprising.

“It’s a hanok, isn’t it?”

“As I said on the way here, the God of Death is a native Earth deity. There’s at least one Temple of Death in every country, including Korea.”

“So they emphasized the local flavor to express that it’s an Earth deity?”

“Among all the Temples of Death, Korea put the most effort into the building’s exterior. Maybe because it’s the only one where the death god’s incarnation resides. Not that it was necessarily the god’s request...”

Locking the car, Yoo Seong-Woon continued.

“This place was the first case where an evil god was officially recognized as a religious entity. At first, public opposition was fierce—there were tons of protests from nearby residents. It was treated like a noxious facility.”

“A noxious facility, huh.”

“I mean, it’s the God of Death. People had suffered so much from divine meddling back then, they had no room to care about providence or anything else.”

“That’s unexpected.”

It sounded like there had been a time when gods directly tormented humans. Gio, who had once been a priest, asked,

“Did humans suffer at the hands of the gods?”

“The distinction between traditional gods and evil gods isn’t that old. In the past, gods meddled so much in human lives that there were countless large and small disasters.”

“Large and small disasters...”

“Say something that didn’t please a god, and you’d get divine punishment. Or they’d forcibly establish a temple on Earth. They had no reason or will to consider humans.”

“And now it’s different?”

“Thanks to the Symbols of Eternity, excessive divine interference was curbed. What would have eventually sorted itself out was forcibly sped up.”

Yoo Seong-Woon waved his hand.

“The story’s long, but basically: now gods need to invest a lot to interfere with the human world.”

“So those unwilling to invest won’t meddle easily anymore. I understand what you’re saying.”

Gio nodded.

“I remember wondering why my father couldn’t easily interfere with human lives. I didn’t know there were measures like that.”

“It was a time when gods from dead-end dimensions roamed around, so proper countermeasures were late. Luckily, the Symbols of Eternity stepped in and handled it.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“They stopped divine overreach, but the great beings themselves didn’t vanish. The ones who were particularly interested in Earth still kept watch.”

“Is the God of Death among them?”

“Since he’s a native deity, it’s not like he could easily look to other dimensions. Anyway, some of those beings turned out to be helpful to humanity.”

“But it must not have been easy for humans to accept that.”

“You’re right. But it’s not like the existing gods would just disappear. Coexistence with mysteries was inevitable, so the government took action.”

He pointed to the modest hanok.

“They shrank the building size, added Korean elements.”

“And did it work?”

“It definitely made people understand this god is a native Earth deity. Though the God of Death isn’t exclusive to Korea...”

“But for Koreans, it would feel familiar, like meeting an old hometown friend.”

“Yeah, that’s close.”

The surprising modesty of the hanok stunned the fierce protesters, and the government offered incentives to nearby residents to sway public opinion.

“They basically succeeded in marketing it. At that time, there were so many deaths and little way to manage them. Having the God of Death personally preside over funerals became a huge appeal.”

For those losing family or facing death themselves, funerals conducted at a shrine blessed by the official God of Death offered real comfort.

“In desperate moments, people can’t help but crave mercy. Whether the god was evil or not.”

“And the government and association’s credibility helped, right?”

“You’re right. Trust in them was huge. Once they officially promoted the God of Death, it was hard not to believe.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“And the god’s cooperation helped a lot too. Being a native deity, he genuinely cared for Earth’s people. He wasn’t the type to meddle unnecessarily.”

“I heard there’s a manifestation here.”

“After the Great Catastrophe, the conditions allowed it. With so much death around, it was perfect timing for a native god to manifest.”

“Perfect timing...”

“I don’t know the full details. Why he stays in Korea, either. I’m no expert in godly matters. And the God of Death... he’s extremely quiet. He hardly ever reacts, aside from observing the world through his manifestation.”

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed softly and guided Gio.

“Shall we go in?”

“Of course.”

As they approached the temple entrance, a gatekeeper wielding a spear asked,

“Are you Hunter Yoo Seong-Woon?” freёwebnoѵel.com

“Yes, I booked a private prayer room today.”

“Please, come this way.”

Soon, a priest clad in a pure white robe appeared.

Their hair was tied in a single knot, their eyes covered by a white cloth, and they carried a round white lantern in their left hand. The robe’s Korean aesthetic made it impossible to tell their gender.

The priest spoke in a neutral tone.

“I will guide you.”

“Please, lead the way.”

The temple interior was extremely dark. Shallow water covered the floor, flowing quietly like a living being.

The priest walked as if conversing with the water’s flow.

“Follow me.”

Normal people would barely see a step ahead; only the priest’s lantern and white robe were visible.

Unlike the ‘Gem’s Waterway,’ Gio couldn’t secure his vision in the darkness, perhaps due to the ongoing synchronization.

“......”

The white lanterns moving through the dark felt like will-o’-the-wisps floating above a lake at night.

“This is the prayer room assigned to Brother Yoo Seong-Woon.”

“Thank you for guiding us.”

“And... may I ask for a brief favor?”

“......”

Yoo Seong-Woon glanced at Gio and nodded.

“What is it?”

“The bishop wishes to meet you.”

The priest bowed deeply.

“The Father has opened his eyes.”

“...You mean a revelation has been received?”

“The Father wishes to speak with today’s visitor.”

“I don’t think I’m the one he wants to see.”

“Indeed.”

“He’s surprisingly proactive.”

Yoo Seong-Woon asked Gio,

“What do you want to do?”

“Well.”

Then Gio asked,

“Does he want to be friends with me?”

“......”

The priest paused, then said,

“...Forgive me, unnamed divinity. I have not heard the full story.”

“You’re afraid of me.”

“If my humble service displeased you, I offer my deepest apologies.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be scared.”

A vivid crimson smile curved on Gio’s lips.

“Making friends is really hard, isn’t it?”

The priest dared not answer.

***

“......”

“...Please, this way.”

“Alright.”

Everyone is scared of me.

‘This too... is a kind of burden, isn’t it?’

Gio grew gloomy.