The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 154

Bisa Beul wanted the three of them to become housemates.

“All three of us?”

“Yes, all three.”

“You mean me, Hunter Yoo Seong-Woon, and... no, don’t tell me...”

“That’s exactly it.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“Gio is included.”

“.......”

At that, Joo-Hyun’s lips tightened as he paused mid-way through unpacking his boxes. Yoo Seong-Woon was fairly sure the words Joo-Hyun swallowed were something like, “Are you insane?” or “You’ve completely lost it.”

But being a powerless wage slave in capitalist society, there was no way he could protest to his superior. Rather than offering hope of an escape from this madness, Yoo Seong-Woon opted for a humble apology.

“My apologies that you’ve been dragged into our guild leader’s ambition.”

“Oh no, I’m sure there’s a grand intention I simply don’t understand.”

Joo-Hyun responded with his usual courteous smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“If I may ask, could you tell me what led to such a decision?”

“Simply put, it’s because they want ‘Gio’s Portrait’ to adapt more quickly to human life.”

“They want Mr. Gio to adapt to human life?”

Rustle.

Joo-Hyun’s smile shifted subtly as he opened a box of his belongings.

“...It’s not my place to doubt it, but... is that even possible?”

“Well, Gio is quite determined, so it’s not entirely impossible.”

“He certainly is excellent at mimicking humanity...”

“He’s also constantly asserting that he is human.”

“So it’s not just something he says to me.”

Joo-Hyun let out a dry laugh.

“He said he was a human with the traits of a portrait.”

“One of his more frequent claims.”

Yoo Seong-Woon understood the absurdity behind Joo-Hyun’s tone.

“With the diversity of humanity being what it is, he asks, why wouldn’t a portrait fit in?”

Yoo Seong-Woon had never even tried to argue against such reasoning. Even if he did, it wouldn’t get through anyway.

“No matter how high the level, how vast the power, how changed the body and mind, Gio considers it all just... a characteristic.”

“That’s the impression I got too.”

“I’m glad to hear you understand. And that’s exactly why Gio wants to blend in with humans even more. We at the Collector’s Guild determined we can’t stop him.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled his usual even-tempered smile.

“Does that make us look negligent?”

“...Honestly, a little.”

Joo-Hyun’s eyes curved gently as he replied.

“Back at the association’s lab, you were far more thorough.”

“That level of caution is certainly necessary when considering the peace of Earth and humanity.”

“But the Collector’s Guild’s motto is ‘Love the Artwork,’ isn’t it?”

“Yes, and because of that, we don’t have the kind of security systems you might expect.”

“I know you’re not just sitting on your hands. I’m sure this is just how the Collector’s Guild operates.”

“As you said, we focus more on response after incidents happen. That’s fundamentally different from the association, which aims to eliminate all risks in advance.”

At that, Joo-Hyun nodded in understanding.

“I’ll do my best to adapt.”

Although he hadn’t been officially hired by the guild, since Gio was part of the Collector’s Guild, Joo-Hyun was half-involved by association. He would need to get used to their system as quickly as possible.

“So this whole... housemate idea came from that? Since they can’t stop ‘Gio’s Portrait’ from living among humans anyway?”

“That’s one of the reasons. As I mentioned before, Gio doesn’t yet know much about human society. To function as ‘Mr. Sergio,’ he needs to adjust more.”

“So they decided to have him live with other humans—to smooth out his presence and help him learn basic human norms. Yes, that makes sense.”

Joo-Hyun was calmly working through his thoughts, but then his smile turned awkward.

“Although... you said that’s only one of the reasons?”

“The main purpose is to observe how ‘Gio’s Portrait’ lives among humans.”

“By the Guild Leader of the Collector’s Guild.”

“Surprisingly, yes. That’s reality. That’s what being a collector means.”

“I always knew he was exceptional, but he’s bolder than I expected.”

“Thank you for putting it kindly.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded, touched by Joo-Hyun’s determined attempt to keep things civil even under such bizarre circumstances.

“Fortunately, this isn’t being implemented immediately. That’s why you were assigned to the unit next door to mine. I imagine the Guild Leader also hopes you’ll get closer to me, since I’m the curator in charge of ‘Gio’s Portrait.’”

“Thanks to that, I’ve been given a place far nicer than I deserve.”

“As I mentioned, the lease is under your name, but all living costs will be covered by the Collector’s Guild. So don’t feel too burdened—just try to adapt for now.”

“I’m still figuring out how to manage ‘Mr. Sergio’...”

“Your manager training will be handled by our guild’s secretarial department. You won’t be part of the guild itself, so don’t worry. Since this is your first time with such a task, they’ll walk you through all the basics step by step.”

Yoo Seong-Woon listed off everything ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) needed and then offered a small laugh.

“Well, now that we’re neighbors, I hope we can get comfortable in time.”

“I’ll do my best to adjust to that, too...”

“I imagine we’ll naturally get closer as we keep running into each other over Gio-related matters.”

“Then I couldn’t ask for more.”

“Oh, and one more piece of advice.”

Yoo Seong-Woon asked,

“You’ve become Gio’s pen pal, haven’t you?”

“Apparently so...”

“Then you’ll occasionally receive letters from him.”

“So the pen pal thing is real.”

“They appear out of nowhere—try not to be too startled.”

He pointed to himself as he continued.

“I was Pen Pal #1, so I know this well. The letters appear quietly inside an empty house and send chills down your spine. And when you open them, you can’t even read what they say.”

“Then what’s the point of sending a letter?”

“I think of it as a kind of pager. We believe the frame surrounding ‘Gio’s Portrait’ filters the message, and that’s why the letters come out distorted. It’s likely a limitation of being delivered within the bounds of human comprehension.”

“If it were delivered raw, it’d probably do a lot of damage to most people.”

“Even now, just touching the letter can make your heart drop. Gio is still working on the issue of legibility. I believe once his imitation of humanity improves, that problem will be resolved eventually.”

With that, Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Joo-Hyun with some concern.

“I worry more in your case since you’re unawakened.”

“...Are the letters really that dangerous? Enough that your awakened status determines your safety?”

“Well, since you used to work at the association’s research lab, I’m sure you’ll adapt quickly.”

Yoo Seong-Woon offered his ever-patient smile once again.

“Things like that—unreal tragedies—they do happen often enough.”

“So... are you saying Mr. Gio’s letters are something I should be genuinely cautious about?”

“To put it simply, think of them as ghost stories.”

“Ah... ghost stories.”

“That’s the core identity of ‘Black Cloak,’ after all.”

“I’ve heard similar stories now and then.”

Urban legend might be the right term. People seemed to treat Black Cloak as a living ghost story—something you could run into if you were very lucky, or very unlucky.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“You’ll learn the rest as you interact with Gio.”

Yoo Seong-Woon asked then,

“By the way, are you familiar with the Garden?”

“...I’m guessing you’re not talking about a yard with flowers and trees.”

“There’s a kind of knowledge that only a select few in the Association know.”

“Am I allowed to know about that?”

“You’ll have to, whether you want to or not.”

“So it’s closely tied to ‘Gio’s Portrait,’ isn’t it?”

“I’ll explain that to you later, in due time.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled.

“I’ll send you the materials ahead of time. Read them at your own pace.”

“I’ve always been confident in my theory work. I’ll try to live up to your expectations.”

“I hate to say it, but at this point... we’re all on the same boat. The Gio boat.”

He offered the words like a blessing.

“Let’s hope we stay human.”

“......”

Joo-Hyun curved his eyes and smiled.

“...Yes.”

He thought it was one of the most chilling things he’d ever heard.

***

Under the Collector’s Guild’s care, Joo-Hyun completed his move successfully.

“This place is too big.”

He muttered to himself.

“How is this a house?”

He only wanted to use maybe one-tenth of it.

Joo-Hyun knew exactly what kind of apartment this was—one of Seoul’s most prestigious, usually occupied by A-rank hunters or celebrities. Only the wealthiest first-class citizens lived here.

‘Well, at least I won’t need to worry about security...’

But as a measly second-class citizen, he couldn’t help but feel wildly uncomfortable.

He’d never once hoped for a place like this. One comfortable room, one kitchen, one bathroom—that was all he wanted.

‘Is this just another thing I’ll have to get used to?’

It was frustrating.

“...Hmm...”

Joo-Hyun glanced around.

The Collector’s Guild had clearly arranged everything with great care—beyond the essentials, even tasteful decorations like picture frames and ceramics adorned the place. And yet, it felt nothing like his home.

‘I was more comfortable at Mr. Gio’s hut.’

The thought made him shudder.

“.......”

Am I losing my mind?

‘I need to be careful not to let my thoughts wander too far.’

There’s a kind of unspoken rule when dealing with gods: no matter how merciful or generous they seem, you must never take their blessings for granted—or worse, expect more of them.

‘Maybe I’ve spent too much mental energy lately thinking about my family’s graves.’

His thoughts turned practical.

“...First, I need to find the keepsakes...”

He wanted to create graves for the family and friends lost because of him.

‘There should still be some things left at the orphanage.’

Even though it was located in Seoul, his orphanage had always been tucked away in a remote corner. Because the building had no other purpose and was poorly lit, only the monster-risk corpses had been cleared out. The structure itself was still standing.

‘I haven’t had a chance to go back since everything happened, but I doubt the government cleaned it thoroughly. There should be enough to use as keepsakes. I’ll start by gathering those.’

But the thought left a bitter taste.

“.......”

The graves I’m building won’t even have bodies.

“...Haah...”

If only I’d gone back sooner, maybe I could’ve collected the remains before they were disposed of.

‘I was too late.’

He didn’t want to waste emotions on useless guilt, but the sense of personal responsibility—of failing those he loved—was hard to shake. A gravestone with no owner... it twisted painfully inside him.

He sat on the bed with his head down for a long time.

“Meow.”

“.......”

“Meow.”

“...?”

A cat’s cry.

“Meow.”

That’s what it sounded like, at least.

“Meow.”

“.......”

Do cats usually cry that... typically?

‘...That’s way too textbook...’

His stomach turned a bit.

Joo-Hyun stood up, rubbing the cool skin on his neck.

His unit was on the 46th floor. Even more vertically isolated than standard apartments, no stray cat could possibly make it up here. Not to mention, the building’s security was too tight for even a monster to slip through.

“.......”

And yet, Joo-Hyun moved without hesitation.

“Meow.”

“...Ah...”

“Meow.”

“Of course.”

He looked out through the balcony window.

“It was you.”

The gemstone-furred cat, holding a black letter in its mouth, had changed color since he last saw it at the hut—now its coat was the shade of the night sky.

Was it camouflage? Or something else? The question barely passed through his mind before he noticed the letter clamped in the cat’s mouth.

“You brought a letter?”

“Meow.”

“Fitting, since we were just talking about this today.”

Gio’s anti-cat, Dana, approached the window slowly, her starlit form glowing softly in the dark.

“...Want to come in?”

When Joo-Hyun opened the window, Dana trotted in. Her body was nearly the size of a Maine Coon, and she settled in front of him, raising her head as if to say, Take it.

When he took the letter, Dana blinked her eyes. She looked like a night sky filled with galaxies.

“.......”

“.......”

In the dark shadows that seemed to absorb even light, the gemstone cat circled once around Joo-Hyun—then walked out onto the balcony again. In the next moment, she vanished into the night.

Joo-Hyun stared at the open balcony, then unsealed the letter.

“...As expected, I can’t make any sense of this.”

But the near-weightless paper, the rustle of dried grass, and the faint scent of forest—it was all unmistakably Gio.

He stared blankly at the distorted script and let out a weak breath.

“Ah.”

Come to think of it—

“How did she meow with a letter in her mouth?”

He hadn’t realized it when Dana was right in front of him.

And just like that, Joo-Hyun found himself thinking...

That felt like a piece of a ghost story.