Regrettably, Jeong Hae-Woon didn't deny it.
"So, what if I did?"
To that, Dan Haera smiled.
"That's sad."
"Are you even feeling real sadness?"
"I can sense your hostility too."
"Don't worry—it's not for you, it's for us."
"This is why recovering memories is more curse than blessing."
"But isn't it kind of fortunate? The system still exists, after all. It's keeping people from total confusion."
"Ah, I see."
Dan Haera understood the situation.
"So even the system can't be trusted anymore?"
The price Jeong Hae-Woon had once offered had been returned to him. That should have meant the system had experienced a clear malfunction. And yet, it showed no signs of collapse. In other words, Zeorge had tampered with it.
And that Zeorge was now planning to turn humanity into clowns. In other words, he had become humanity's enemy, which meant the system he had touched could no longer be trusted.
Dan Haera thought that the garden—so similar to a person—had been prepared with uncanny precision.
"So they really do intend to sever people from the system."
"They should've done it from the start. Should've smashed their heads in long ago."
"Unfortunately, I don't remember anything about 'Teacher' yet, so I can't empathize. I'm still against it. People still need the system."
"How much do you plan to regret later?"
"You know it too—that's for later. That decision was made long ago."
They had been dreaming for hundreds of years of a future far ahead. All of the Symbols of Eternity had. They'd decided to commit every sin they could now, to bring that comfortable future a little closer.
At that, Jeong Hae-Woon fell silent for a while.
"...I don't even know what to say."
"Oh my, that's rather rare for you, isn't it?"
"How did we end up like this?"
"I didn't think we'd changed all that much... But I guess you disagree."
"Just remember this: you're really going to regret this."
"You're not one to bluff, so I guess I will."
"Dan Haera, you..."
He trailed off briefly, then smiled faintly.
"If this ends with me being demoted to a grade-5 citizen, I'll accept it."
"I doubt you'll fall that far. We're still Symbols of Eternity, after all."
"Come on, seriously? This whole ranking and discrimination thing—it's a joke. Is this really the world we wanted to rebuild? Hell no."
"It's just a transitional step toward that goal. You agreed to that."
"I'm not a Symbol of Eternity anymore."
"..."
For the first time, Dan Haera showed a real reaction. The ever-present mechanical smile vanished from her face, replaced with a chill, stunned gaze directed at Jeong Hae-Woon. She blinked slowly, then said:
"...I didn't even notice."
"Think about why. If it were truly your power, could you really not tell until things got this bad? Do you really think you wouldn't have known I'd been released from the Promise?"
"So you're saying this power isn't mine?"
"We were never real awakeners."
Jeong Hae-Woon's smile twisted.
"We tore it from our poor teacher and used it."
"..."
"What does it even mean to be an S-rank hunter? Do you know?"
There had always been debate among people about what qualified someone as S-rank. Even the famed Association Research Lab had never figured it out. But now, Jeong Hae-Woon knew.
Because Zeorge had told him.
"Every bastard who leeched off someone else's spine ended up S-rank."
The Symbols of Eternity had taken their power from their teacher. Bisa Beul had gotten his from the bondragon that touched the Origin. All the world's S-ranks had been born that way—by ripping something from the most noble, most powerful, most beautiful beings.
"So go ahead and kill me, if you want."
"...I still need you, Hae-Woon."
"How am I supposed to live like this for hundreds or thousands of years? I'm already sick of it after barely thirty."
"People still need us."
"Let's not live like this, Dan Haera."
Eventually, the smile faded from Jeong Hae-Woon's face, leaving only a warped, on-the-verge-of-tears expression behind.
"..."
He looked like he was about to say more, but instead, bit down hard on his lip—and vanished.
Dan Haera stood alone in the Association's executive office, reflecting on the space he had left behind. It wasn't until much later that staff, sensing something was wrong, rushed in to check on her. But their voices barely registered.
Only after a long silence did Dan Haera mutter:
"...What is this feeling?"
She was starting to want to erase her memories. But that wasn't an option. It was a pity. Even though there was nothing she wanted to gain from the Promise right now, she still had to endure this unpleasant sensation.
In the end, Dan Haera had to admit to herself: she had been using the Promise as an excuse to run away.
***
"What are you drawing now?"
Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Gio's canvas and asked.
"It seems to be taking longer than usual to finish."
"It's taking time because I'm trying to shape a subconscious I don't fully understand myself. Unlike drawing something purely imagined, this is a bit trickier."
"The subconscious, huh..."
He immediately understood what the portrait meant. Just hearing the title "Garden of Pleasure" made it obvious. He was painting Zeorge.
Having once received the gift called Yoo Seong-Woon, he couldn't not know. Gio, as always, painted images that clearly conveyed who they were about—even when they weren't portraits.
"Come to think of it, didn't you say you once painted a sea named after your mermaids?"
"Yes, I did. It was a sea painted using handmade paints I created with our mermaids—Aria and Iser..."
A mermaid's tail swayed within the shadows beneath the canvas. As if pleased to hear her name spoken again after so long. But Yoo Seong-Woon felt a twinge of unease.
It must have just been his imagination. But he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen something like this before—back when Gio was handling seafood. Even after being killed, the creatures still twitched as if alive.
'I know it's a crude comparison, but that memory surfaced on its own.'
Maybe it was because they were beings that were alive and yet not. These mermaids were taxidermied alongside Gio. They moved and responded as if alive, but ultimately, weren't they just mermaids trapped in hell?
As Yoo Seong-Woon stood there with a strained smile, Gio looked up at him.
"Is something troubling you?"
"Hmm, no. I was just thinking about your idea of the afterlife."
"Calling it an afterlife makes it sound grand."
"Well... I don't know how grand it really is."
In any case, it was a world where dead souls gathered. People called that the afterlife. It wasn't about grandeur—it was just a plain fact.
'He's still as strict as ever about avoiding any expression that makes him seem non-human.'
Thankfully, the Origin was still the same as always.
"Anyway, what exactly is this painting? I mean, I know you're drawing Zeorge, but... this doesn't look like your usual landscape."
Flowers, jewels, butterflies. A chaotic collection of what humans tend to find beautiful. Sometimes it looked like a library. Sometimes a person. Sometimes a beast or a giant castle.
Compared to the landscapes Gio usually painted, it was an unusual piece.
"This version of 'Gio' must be built from a different essence."
"That's probably why it's so hard to capture."
"I can't even tell what I'm perceiving."
"In the end, it's still Mr. Zeorge."
"Well, yeah, I guess."
But how was he supposed to report this?
Even though the Collector had shifted into Second Code mode, the core framework of the organization remained intact. The workload had simply lessened. Yoo Seong-Woon, still a curator, had duties—including reporting on Gio's portrait.
He cleared his throat.
"...So, is this going to become a dungeon we humans have to enter?"
The portrait only manifested in specific cases. First, when it sought out Gio. Second, when it prepared a dungeon humans could enter—one connected to Gio.
"Looks like a hell of a place to go into."
"However, since Guildmaster Bisa Beul is taking an active stance, I believe it won't be too difficult."
"Our Guildmaster is quite the unique person..."
"I can't promise there won't be sacrifices. That's up to Mr. Zeorge's discretion. I'm merely making a request."
"Opening such a cryptic path, no less."
"I didn't expect Mr. Zeorge to despise Earth's current state this deeply. I apologize for that."
"Not sure you need to apologize for that personally... but I guess this counts as an apology."
Anyway, this was definitely one of Gio's portraits. Technically speaking, it was the portrait that had summoned Zeorge and triggered this incident. But Yoo Seong-Woon didn't blame Gio for it.
'Looking at the situation, it was bound to happen eventually.'
A mystery who had been forcibly linked to the Origin, but never gave up his human identity. It was inevitable he would one day seek out Gio—the eye of the Origin. And Gio, for his part, hadn't chosen to receive him.
So really, this whole incident stemmed from Zeorge choosing Gio. The two might be indistinguishable as mysteries, but for now, Yoo Seong-Woon decided to blame Zeorge.
'Anyway, it's not my artwork's fault.'
A thought truly worthy of a model curator.
'And it's not like I don't understand where Zeorge is coming from.'
It wasn't some tantrum from a spoiled child—it was a rational, calculated act.
'If a few people go missing or die in the process, well...'
There were about 500 casualties, both guilty and innocent. But for divine mischief, that was pretty mild. As both curator and gardener, Yoo Seong-Woon could understand both the side that needed the system and the side that sought to destroy it.
'But since our Guildmaster is outwardly siding with humanity...'
Yoo Seong-Woon had no choice but to follow that order. Besides, even Gio didn't want innocent people to suffer, did he?
As he stared silently at the painting for a long time, Yoo Seong-Woon finally spoke.
"...Hmm, is Mr. Zeorge just really twisted on the inside?"
"I suppose the painting does feel convoluted."
"It's almost... surrealist, I'd say."
But it also felt like a landscape, or a portrait. Who knew what would happen once someone actually entered it? Some people might even lose their minds just by looking at it.
'...Should I ask Gio to quarantine this once everything's over?'
That was one of the Collector's key functions—separating dangerous artworks from the world. From what Yoo Seong-Woon could see, Gio's current work more than qualified.
'If this one gets loose like the others, it could be a problem...'
In the end, it was up to the portrait to decide. But it wouldn't hurt to bring it up. With that in mind, Yoo Seong-Woon glanced at Dana, lying quietly at his father's feet.
She blinked and looked up at him.
"...? Huh?"
Wait—hold on.
"...Um? Uh? What the..."
"What's wrong?"
"Dana isn't hissing at me anymore. Even though I'm this close."
"Perhaps Dana has grown used to you, Mr. Yoo?"
"You really think that's all it is?"
"There's nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Yoo."
"I'm kind of terrified right now, Gio."
What was going to happen in the future, or in the next life, to justify this? Yoo Seong-Woon let out a long sigh, knowing it was already too late to back out. He looked down at Dana again.
Her jewel-like eyes sparkled as she stared back at him.
"..."
Then, out of nowhere, Yoo Seong-Woon felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
"...This is a bit late to say, but Dana really does look a lot like Mr. Zeorge."
"She's my child, after all."
"Dana was a monster from the Gem's Waterway, right?"
"Yes, that's correct."
"So then, could it be..."
Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Gio's unfinished painting. The situation was starting to feel eerily familiar—but in the end, he asked a meaningless question.
"...There's no connection between Dana and Mr. Zeorge, right?"
"Is that what you'd prefer?"
"Would it change anything?"
"That too is up to Mr. Zeorge."
"This is driving me crazy."
He let out a hollow laugh.
"Feels like I've got one of those teachers who cram the syllabus the day before finals."
"I would say that's not too far off."
"Well, then... I just hope I don't fail."
***
A few days later, the "Garden of Pleasure" opened.
-x-X-x-
Cha Eun-Hyeok really was trying not to acknowledge anything.
"..."
That is, until one of his siblings went missing—and another was selected to participate in this extermination raid.
"Shit."
Let's retrace exactly how things got this bad.
First, Cha Ara, who had left on a trip to earn money, went missing. Whether or not she became a clown, like the grim rumors going around these days, no one could say for sure. What was certain was that the second child of their family had vanished.
According to the Association staff who broke the news, her entire team, including Cha Ara, had disappeared inside a dungeon. So perhaps it wasn't clown-related. But then again—what if this was someone's "happiness"?
It was entirely possible that Cha Ara had become a casualty in the clown's wish-granting process.
'Should I tell Cha I-Sol or not...'
Their youngest sibling, sniffling.
People called her a genius everywhere she went, but that didn't change the fact that she was still just a kid. Too young. If he could, Cha Eun-Hyeok wouldn't have told her about any of this. But objectively speaking, no one in the family was stronger than I-Sol. Not even him.
It wasn't that he was trying to offload the burden just because she was capable. But if things went wrong down the line and she found out on her own and said, "I could've helped—why didn't you tell me?", what could he possibly say?
'She's a pre-approved first-grade citizen, and a priestess of the Church of the Sun... She might feel responsible. No matter how young she is, she's not the type to ignore it if her family is hurt. So maybe... no. But still...'
And before he could even decide how to handle it, she contacted him first.
— Hyung! I got picked for the new dungeon raid that opened!
"...Why? How? Does the Church of the Sun not have anyone else?"
— Nope!
"..."
Her cheerful response left him speechless. And then he began muttering curses under his breath at the incompetence of the Church's priests. What were those fully grown adults doing, not protecting their precious trainee priestess?
— Our teacher got super mad, but even he said there was no helping it.
"If it's your teacher... You mean Priest Kang Seodam, right?"
Because of a pair of prodigiously talented trainees, Priest Kang Seodam had recently been taking near-exclusive care of the two. His involvement had become almost personal.
'If this is a decision that went through even after Kang Seodam himself objected, there's really nothing I can do about it. He's not exactly someone who gets pushed around in the Church...'
Though young, Kang Seodam had a powerful voice within the organization. Some may have disliked his strictness and sense of ethics, but he was strong enough to silence any complaints. Still, perhaps due to his youth, his influence had limits.
He was rarely the type to raise his voice. So if he'd gotten angry enough that even I-Sol noticed, it meant he'd fought with all his might—and failed.
Cha Eun-Hyeok felt like he was losing his mind.
"..."
— Hyung?
"I-Sol."
— Huh? What's wrong?
"Your sister's gone missing."
— ...Oh.
In the end, Cha Eun-Hyeok chose not to hide the truth.
"Just so you know, I only heard about it recently too. I'm telling you because if you found out on your own later and went off and did something reckless, I'd have no excuse."
— Got it. Uh... should we summon Gio-hyung?
"You don't just summon a god like that—no, wait... Hah. I'm not entirely unconnected to him either. I'll try contacting him myself."
Not knowing whether his family was alive or dead—of course the temptation to rely on an all-powerful god was there. But one of Cha Eun-Hyeok's strengths was his self-awareness.
He seemed to be in the Black Cloak's good graces, but that was only because that being rewarded the good and punished the wicked. Trying to use the Black Cloak selfishly could easily invite divine wrath.
Even as he was driven mad by the loss of his sister, Cha Eun-Hyeok knew he was just one among countless humans asking for divine help. How many had pleaded for their families to be saved?
'Besides, Mr. Yoo Seong-Woon once said this—divine grace always comes with side effects. That making a trade is the safest, most universal way to engage with a god.'
That applied not only to him as a civilian, but to Cha I-Sol too—despite being cherished enough to be called an apostle. Divinity was vast, and humans were small. No matter how gifted I-Sol was, she hadn't transcended human limits.
So even if they asked for help, it had to be done indirectly. Anything else would be arrogance. That was what Cha Eun-Hyeok believed, and so he tried his best to plan ahead.
"Priest Kang Seodam is coming too, right? He's not the kind to leave his students alone."
— Ah... right, he said he'd come with us.
"Good. Then listen to him. Really listen. Don't rush into the dungeon core like last time with the mermaid incident. I'm counting on the fact that you did learn something from that, okay?"
— B-But... what about unnie...
"I have to keep my dignity, I-Sol. If I dump this responsibility on you, what kind of brother does that make me?"
Cha Eun-Hyeok forced himself to sound calm.
"No matter how strong you are, you're still my little sister—and you're still so young. You've got amazing talent, and the Church praises you constantly. That's probably why they included you in this operation. Right?"
— ...But you're still worried about me, aren't you?
"..."
Before he could say another word, I-Sol spoke first. Despite her cheerful nature, she was surprisingly perceptive—and often overly sensitive to others. Eun-Hyeok paused, then continued in a composed tone.
"Yeah, so please—be careful."
— I'll be as careful as I can.
"I won't say 'don't get hurt.' I know what life as a hunter is like. But hearing you promise to be careful makes me feel a lot better. Thank you."
— You be careful too... And if you find out anything, anything at all, you have to tell me. I won't do anything reckless. I swear I won't. So please...
"I will."
After a few more exchanges of concern and well-wishes, the call ended. Cha Eun-Hyeok had heard various noises on the line—suggesting the Church of the Sun was in chaos from this situation too.
"...It really is terrifying..."
Too many people had died. And everyone understood that now. The clown had tried over and over to define "happiness" for humans—but happiness was inherently subjective and impossible to pin down.
One person's happiness pushed an innocent soul off a building. Another made someone end their life. Someone else's happiness tore apart a stranger's limbs.
'And that was just the tip of it.'
Even without directly taking lives, those "happinesses" had accelerated society's collapse. The government and the Association had tried to minimize damage by controlling civilians and mysteries—but it had all spiraled out of control.
'So in the end, they decided to seek divine aid.'
It meant they judged this as a crisis humans couldn't resolve alone. Or even if they could, they lacked the time to get there. With a dungeon almost certainly tied to the clown opening up, rapid action was essential.
'Seeking divine help brings all kinds of side effects... But for the higher-ups to reach out so openly to various religious orders like this—it really shows just how dire the situation is.'
The news had already broken that the new dungeon had been opened by the Black Cloak. Its distinct appearance—as a painting in a frame—made it unmistakable. Of course they knew who created it.
Slowly piecing things together, Cha Eun-Hyeok just stood there in silence.
"..."
And then... he cried a little.
"...Why is this happening to us..."
What did we do to deserve this?
'Our kids lived so kindly—why is this all they get in return? Why?'
He knew full well that the world didn't run on justice. But the resentment still surged. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind.
What if Ara really was sacrificed for someone's happiness? What if I-Sol died in this war?
With trembling hands, he packed his belongings.
'No... it'll be fine.'
Even if she was the weakest among hunters, Ara had a strong will to live. She might be overempathetic to a fault, but she'd do her best to survive.
The same went for I-Sol. The ever-kind youngest knew how devastated the family would be if anything happened to her.
'It's all going to be fine.'
Dressed and packed, Cha Eun-Hyeok raised his head.
'That's why I have to do my part too.'
He wasn't a seasoned gardener. He couldn't handle skills like a hunter. He had no great wealth or power. But he did have one thing he could call a strength:
"...I have to do what I can."
He would pretend not to know. He'd keep pretending not to know anything. But even so, people still had to be saved. And it went without saying—his family counted among those "people."
One day, he stood before a picture his youngest sibling had drawn of the Black Cloak—and called out to him.
"Mr. Gio."
"Are you ready to clock in?"
"Yes."
"Just so you know, you can take the day off."
"I'd rather not."
This was not "Hunter Sergio."
Nor was it the "Black Cloak" who had opened this dungeon to bring the incident to an end.
This—this pitch-black mimic of divinity—was someone Cha Eun-Hyeok knew very well.
It was the smell of flowers that gave him away.
"Mr. Zeorge, where's today's worksite?"
"You always see right through me, Cha Eun-Hyeok..."
The bipedal garden responded:
"Do you still remember that I am a garden?"
"Of course."
"And we always ran food stalls together—whether in gardens or dungeons."
"I remember that too."
"Then this time's no different."
"A new dungeon's opened, hasn't it?"
"Let me introduce you to the 'Garden of Pleasure,' Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok."
The garden smiled mischievously, as if joking.
"Though, I suppose I've already introduced it before...?"
"Probably."
This job site was the "Garden of Pleasure." And it seemed to be Zeorge himself.
Which meant, then...
"..."
Did you hurt my sister?
***
So Zeorge sent only Cha Eun-Hyeok to work—and then vanished.
The issue was, even Gio didn't know that.
Which meant: when "Hunter Sergio," freshly returned to public life, stumbled across Cha Eun-Hyeok all alone inside a dungeon he had created—his confusion was only natural.
"...?"
"...Uhhh?"
Even Yoo Seong-Woon, standing next to Gio, was taken aback. So much so that, for a moment, he thought it might be a hallucination. But no matter how many times he looked, it wasn't—it was real.
Faced with a civilian dropped into a metaphysical garden-dungeon handcrafted by the Black Cloak, Yoo Seong-Woon was completely flustered.
"Why is Cha Eun-Hyeok here?"
"Right? Why am I here?"
"Did your sense of duty really compel you to open a food stall even today?!"
"I'm... not sure myself..."
Cha Eun-Hyeok sat at the stall inside the garden with a serene, enlightened expression. The guild members from the Collector, who had managed to reach this deep part of the garden thanks to Sergio's efforts, were equally stunned.
"Cha... Cha Eun-Hyeok, sir...?"
"I heard this place wasn't a normal dungeon but a garden..."
"Even so, running a business in the middle of this mess seems a bit much, don't you think?"
"Why are you here...? Are you alright? Are you mentally okay?"
And through it all, Bisa Beul was just grinning ear to ear.
"Since we've met, could I get a fish-shaped pastry?"
"Ah, yes, of course."
"How much?"
"I used to charge for them, but..."
Cha Eun-Hyeok trailed off with a bitter smile, and Bisa Beul's grin widened. The sight of this fragile man, running a food stall alone in a metaphysical garden, seemed... hilarious to him.
"Ah, so you're volunteering today?"
"I've been forcibly volunteered. Usually, my boss—Mr. Zeorge—handled payments, but as you can see, he didn't show up today. So I can't even charge anyone. And now there's not even a reason left..."
"Rather heartless of your boss, don't you think? Abandoning such a delicate employee in this chaos."
"Right? Just leaving someone like me—a puff of wind could knock me over... sigh..."
"Oh dear."
Whether he was on the verge of tears or a tantrum—or both—Cha Eun-Hyeok looked as if he were silently screaming. Bisa Beul nodded and turned to his subordinates, cheerfully announcing:
"Looks like we've found the perfect Safe Zone!"
"...Sir, you're kind of heartless, aren't you?"
At Hunter Sergio's calm assessment, the Collector staff thought:
'He's got no heart, that's for sure.'
'Maybe he just realized he's not human either?'
'At this point, it might be genetic.'
The situation was absurd on multiple levels. These were high-ranking officials—they at least knew roughly who Cha Eun-Hyeok was. A civilian running a Safe Zone food stall with a humanoid garden.
But in the end, he was still just a civilian. He might have gardener potential, sure, but that wasn't enough to make a place like this safe.
"Well, then..."
Gio tapped his chin, then smiled faintly.
"Shall we sort this mess out a little?"
"I support that."
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded beside him.
"It's already chaos. No need to make it worse."
Given how bad things were already, the future wasn't looking any easier.
***
"...Good. Very good."
Zeorge beamed as he patted Jeong Hae-Woon, seated in a chair.
His demeanor was like someone tending a pet dog, but Jeong Hae-Woon didn't resist. Still, he didn't smile either. He could've, if he wanted to—but he didn't see the point.
Even knowing that, Zeorge grinned with joy.
"It's finally starting, student Jeong Hae-Woon."
"..."
"Thanks to you, I made it this far. Ah, perhaps it's because you were the gardener who once oversaw all mysteries in this country? The way you spread chaos was absolutely masterful."
"..."
"The clowns you created were adorable."
Zeorge's face, as he praised Jeong Hae-Woon, looked like a man in love.
"I was truly delighted..."
"...Hah."
Among all the clowns, Jeong Hae-Woon laughed dryly at the syrupy, grotesque misanthropy on display.
"Of course you were."
It was time to become as ugly as he wanted.
-x-X-x-
The Collector's Guild staff nodded as they listened to Cha Eun-Hyeok's circumstances.
"In times like these, it's only natural to grow anxious if a family member goes missing like that."
"We don't exactly recommend civilians entering a dungeon, but we understand the urge to do something—anything."
"Still, your brother's disappearance hasn't been confirmed as a result of the Clown incident, so please try to stay calm for now."
Cha Eun-Hyeok nodded at that.
"I'm... relatively calm."
"Coming all this way in a civilian's body doesn't exactly scream 'calm,' though."
"That's true for when I first arrived. But now it's been about three days since I got here. I've screamed, collapsed crying, gone through every possible outburst, so I figured I've calmed down enough."
"Ah, I see. About three days, then."
A civilian who could be blown away with a breath still remained fairly rational inside this dungeon. The collector, quietly satisfied, noted this. As long as someone they were required to protect stayed that composed, their job became much easier.
Then Cha Eun-Hyeok asked a question.
"But are you sure it's been three days? It's always bright and glittering in here, so there's no clear distinction between day and night... and the clocks flicker weirdly too. I thought it had been three days, but I'm not certain."
It was "Hunter Sergio," who had remained silent until now, who answered him.
"We can't say for sure either, but we believe roughly a week has passed. That's how long we think it took to enter the dungeon and arrive here."
"Ah... a week?"
"There's a pretty big gap between your three days and our one week, Mr. Cha."
"...I might be disoriented, but I wouldn't confuse three days with a whole week. There's still the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) sense of time passing..."
"Is that so."
Gio nodded and looked over to Yoo Seong-Woon.
"It seems time really is twisted in this space."
"So that's why the communications we've received from the other guilds are all jumbled."
"Would it be alright to share information with Mr. Cha?"
"If that's what you want, Gio, then by all means."
To hunters, a civilian caught in a dungeon incident was usually an object of unilateral protection or control—especially from a corporate guild like theirs. But if Gio wished otherwise, that rule became nothing more than an unspoken convention.
"Besides, Mr. Cha isn't exactly a typical civilian. He's unawakened, sure, but he could've easily worked as a gardener. Not to mention, he's one of the co-owners of the food stall in the Garden."
"So it's hard to categorize Mr. Cha as just a normal civilian. He's the only person capable of operating a mobile safe zone, isn't he? That alone is a huge asset for strategy..."
"I think so too. If we can help each other, there's no reason to act hostile. He also seems fully aware of the dangers that can arise in a dungeon."
Recognizing Cha Eun-Hyeok not as a "subject of control" but as an "ally." Yoo Seong-Woon made that statement to explain to the guild members the minimum justification behind this stance. And the guild members nodded.
Of course, they were competent yes-men, always ready to follow the Guild Master, their comrades, or even a painting's will. But even so, confirming silent consensus like this was important—especially in a dungeon like this.
Once it seemed the opinions had aligned, the guild members all turned toward one person.
"Is that alright with you, Guild Master?"
"You've gone ahead with everything and are now leaving the final decision to me?"
"But isn't that how it always is? We do all the paperwork, and you just decide."
"Our Yoo Seong-Woon's gotten a little cheeky lately."
Bisa Beul smiled with satisfaction. Ever since he'd started spending time with "Gio's Portrait," Yoo Seong-Woon had been showing more charm, and it was a good look. In the past, he wouldn't have bothered saying such things just to play along.
"I'm fine with it. Sadly, I don't really run dungeons anymore, and I'm not a gardener with access to the Garden either... so I don't get to visit Mr. Cha's food stall. I can't let go of such a valuable experience."
Then Gio stepped in.
"If you're thinking of stealing someone's business, that could be a problem."
"Oh dear, my son, what's the issue? Are you displeased at me meddling in your beloved human's workplace?"
"There are several issues, but first and foremost, your personality, Guild Master. I'd be embarrassed to walk around with you."
"My goodness, we can't have that. I'll try to restrain myself."
It was said jokingly, but everyone—Gio and the guild members alike—knew it was sincere. Only Cha Eun-Hyeok showed a faintly confused expression, thinking, What a weird joke. After all, it wasn't like anyone could or would want to steal the food stall inside the Garden.
Anyway, thanks to all this, Cha Eun-Hyeok was able to receive a full briefing on everything that had happened so far. An unusually rare situation for a civilian encountered during a large-scale raid, but it was possible because he was treated as a quasi-hunter, not an ordinary civilian.
"As I mentioned earlier, the Collector's Guild has been inside this dungeon for about a week. Since we hunters tend to have fairly accurate internal clocks, we assume it's roughly correct despite some margin of error."
It was "Hunter Sergio" who began the explanation. The other guild members, clearly unwilling to interfere with the fun of this living artwork, focused entirely on organizing the area around the safe zone, not even sparing him a glance.
As a result, only Cha Eun-Hyeok, Sergio, and Bisa Beul remained nearby. Gio confirmed that Cha Eun-Hyeok was fully focused before continuing.
"We entered as part of the advance party."
"Don't tell me it was only the Collector's Guild in the advance party..."
"Oh, of course not. The advance party also included hunters from Justitia, the Association, and priests from the Moon Sect."
"Moon Sect... I heard they had closed their doors?"
"That's right. But they opened them temporarily at the Association's request. Altogether, fourteen guilds participated."
The quieter guilds like Eunwol and Haryeong, who had previously joined the Gangwon Province raid, also took part.
"The advance party entered the dungeon on the 26th. When did you arrive, Mr. Cha?"
"...I'm not sure if my entrance really qualifies as a dungeon entry, but I moved on the 19th. As soon as I heard about the disappearance..."
"Right, you said you came right after seeing the news that the dungeon had opened. That would line up. In that case, your time being distorted seems likely. The gap between us is pretty large."
"You keep mentioning time distortion... is that one of this Garden's features?"
"To be exact, I'd say there's nothing we can say for certain."
Severe uncertainty—that was the real feature. Gio rubbed his cheek and blinked.
"I painted this place, but I still don't get it..."
Bisa Beul lit up at his words.
"Oh? Are you quitting?"
"Pardon?"
"Hm... not yet?"
"Whatever you're talking about, you're misunderstanding."
"If my son says so, it must be true."
"Of course."
Anyway, the conversation continued.
"This dungeon's distortions aren't limited to time. The space itself is warped too. And even people's words and actions... don't always come across normally."
"What do you mean by that? I don't quite follow..."
"It can make your intentions sound far worse or better than you meant. We've confirmed that a speaker's attitude or the content of their words can be twisted."
"..."
Seeing Cha Eun-Hyeok fall silent, Giovanni smiled faintly.
"Oh dear, don't worry. Everything you see and hear right now is as it is—unaltered."
As it is... The phrasing was chilling, befitting a man whose very identity was a sacred portrait. If anyone else had said it, it might've been fine. But coming from the Black Cloak himself—it was terrifying. Cha Eun-Hyeok ran a hand over his face.
"...How can I believe that? Please, help me a little."
"It'd be better if Yoo Seong-Woon explained this part."
"Oh, not you, Hunter Sergio?"
"Well, I'm involved too, but still."
Sensing Gio's gaze, Yoo Seong-Woon stepped closer.
"What? Why are you calling me?"
"I didn't call you. Are you experiencing mental contamination? Is the snowfield effect wearing off?"
"As if I'd be hearing voices now. But I'd recognize your stare anywhere. What is it?"
"Please tell Mr. Cha about your achievements."
"...You make it sound embarrassing."
Yoo Seong-Woon rubbed his neck, then looked at Cha Eun-Hyeok.
"You've probably heard that this Garden has a mind of its own."
"I have... but why the polite speech again?"
"Well, there's only one power that ignores all of that."
"...Another Garden's power?"
"Exactly. And to a lesser degree, divine power works too."
They'd figured this out shockingly early—just one hour after dungeon entry. But that was only thanks to "Hunter Sergio" and the Collector's Guild.
"Thanks to the revelation Hunter Sergio received from the Black Cloak, we figured it out quickly. Unfortunately, the other advance teams didn't seem to."
Didn't seem to?
"You've seen how only the Collector's Guild is moving together, right? We entered the dungeon at the same time, but once inside, everyone got scattered. Fortunately, at least the members of each guild stayed together."
"Hm, but still..."
"It's likely a trick of this dungeon—or its boss."
If everything had been mixed at random, that would've made sense. It could've just been part of the dungeon's "uncertainty" theme. But for everything else to be a mess while the team compositions remained intact?
"We think the owner of this Garden is playing a sort of game. As for what kind... maybe a survival game? Last team standing wins in this utterly insane dungeon..."
"That's... pretty intense."
"Just a theory. This isn't a normal dungeon. It may have dungeon traits so that hunters can enter, but at its core, it's more of a Garden. And not an ordinary one, either. Normal Gardens don't operate this deliberately."
"True enough."
A Garden was nature imbued with mystery. It might express intent in vague ways, but never act truly human. At least not according to Earth's current understanding of gardeners.
But perhaps because the master of this Garden had a human form, there were too many variables. Gio gave a soft, knowing smile as Cha Eun-Hyeok's expression turned uneasy.
"A strange friend, isn't he? He fooled me more than once."
From the moment the "Garden of Pleasure" revealed itself as a series instead of a single work, Gio should've known something was off. Unlike Giovanni and Argio, who embedded their hometown in one piece, this bipedal Garden had multiple origins.
Yet Gio had let himself be tricked, assuming that wasn't so unusual. After all, if one insists on being human, one should have only one hometown.
Zeorge had come to Gio with only mischief in mind from the start.
"In a world with so few certainties, it's easy for hunters to lose their minds and fall under a spell. And once that happens, they become part of the dungeon."
"I've heard that somewhere before."
"Well, it's a Garden. And humans enchanted by Gardens tend to meet similar ends. But even that isn't certain—because every method we tried to communicate with the other guilds has also been distorted."
Communication tools still functioned, but now even time discrepancies were confirmed.
Fortunately, once the distortions became apparent, the hunters made an agreement: teams without gardeners or priests would refrain from contact and proceed individually.
"The Collector's Guild's primary goal is to make contact with guild teams that include gardeners. So far, the only successful agreement has been with Eunwol, which has many devout members—but given this dungeon's layout..."
"...Is it even possible to meet anyone?"
"It's a vast dungeon, so it's unlikely. Realistically, this raid must proceed individually. We've already sent word beyond the dungeon."
"For the sake of the next wave, I suppose. I hope the message got through."
"We borrowed what power we could from the Garden and divinity. We have to hope for the best."
"...Um..."
Cha Eun-Hyeok, running his hand over his face again, asked,
"...In this past week, have you encountered any other teams?"
"Ah—no."
"..."
He fell silent, then hesitated before asking again.
"Then, uh... have you identified any raid points... or key features? I know I'm not in any position to ask, but... as someone operating a mobile safe zone, I just thought maybe..."
"You don't have to say it like that. Of course we'll share what we can. Anyone who can manage a mobile safe zone is practically a quasi-hunter. Though, I'm afraid the answer won't be very satisfying."
"...Why do you say that?"
"It's hard to pinpoint any clear features in this dungeon. You can't even tell what's real or fake, and there haven't been any notably distinct monsters either."
"Ah..."
Cha Eun-Hyeok let out a pained groan.
"...Then what even is this place..."
"We've settled on this definition, for now."
Giovanni answered, with his usual clear expression.
"A war of revelations."
-x-X-x-
Eunwol, a guild of believers with deep ties to the Church of the Sun and the Moon Sect.
"Jeong Yeong-Won."
"...Mother."
"Hey, hey, don't look at that—"
"My mother is right there..."
"Oh, come on. I told you, that's fake."
It was a gathering of believers capable of wielding even the faintest traces of divine power—and among them was a single gardener. By all accounts, they were the most stable formation to resist this dungeon. And yet, the atmosphere was far from good.
"My mother... Ah, my mother...!"
"How many times has it been now?"
"Aaaaah!! Let go, Mother...! Mom! Mom! I'm right here!!"
Jeong Yeong-Won, the only gardener in the team, had long since broken down under the weight of her trauma, despite her power. Only the team leader holding her back knew of her identity as a gardener—but at this point, even that was completely exposed.
"Mommy...!!"
"This is seriously driving me insane."
The team leader was now half her guardian. Her mother, once a gardener, had one day become one with the flowerbed she tended. Jeong Yeong-Won had inherited that will and devotion and became a gardener of the Flower Garden.
Now, she stood screaming at a human-shaped mass of flowers in a beautiful field, crying out for her mother. It wasn't the first time. It was obvious what she was seeing in that mound of blossoms.
"...You're really putting me through it, Yeong-Won..."
One of the Eunwol guild members approached the team leader.
"Um... Should we consider resting for a bit?"
"We've already rested too long."
"It's not just Jeong Yeong-Won's problem. The rest of the team is also in a bad state since she's our only gardener."
"It's like losing our strongest shield. Ugh, do we need another break..."
"Our exploration has already been delayed too much. At this rate, we'll be wiped out. If we were proper priests instead of just believers, we could've lightened her burden. I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine. We haven't taken heavy damage yet."
One of the few things that could resist this dungeon was the power of another Garden—or divine power. But Eunwol was a guild of believers, not trained priests.
The team leader sighed as he knocked Jeong Yeong-Won unconscious.
"I figured things would get tricky from the moment we entered as the advance party, but this is worse than expected."
Honestly, entering a high-risk dungeon like this as part of the advance party was almost like signing away your life. Even if the advance team was unusually large this time, once scattered, the danger didn't diminish. In fact, it got worse.
Sure, advance parties are basically half-dead by definition. But even so, this was bad. The situation only continued to deteriorate—clearly someone's doing. This wasn't something that could be solved with muscle or wit alone.
"Our guild has pretty strong mental fortitude, don't we?"
"Er... I wouldn't say it's weak."
"Then why are we falling apart like this?"
It wasn't like they hadn't encountered mentally destabilizing dungeons before. And in those cases, what mattered most was the individual hunter's mental and spiritual fortitude. In that sense, the believers of Eunwol—who used divine strength despite not being chosen directly by the gods—were generally considered steadfast.
But this dungeon was on another level entirely.
"What about the Guild Master?"
"They're currently in prayer to the Sun and Moon."
"Alright, then let's say one more prayer ourselves. Might help us pull our heads together. There's nothing like a good prayer to reset your mind."
"I'll report to the Guild Master accordingly."
"Goddamn it..."
He rubbed his face as he looked down at the unconscious Jeong Yeong-Won. He hadn't said it out loud—she would only take it as pity—but inside, his heart had dropped more times than he could count at the sight of the girl he'd treated like a daughter, now unable even to faint properly, just thrashing and screaming. His stomach churned.
'...This dungeon strikes at the weakest part of a person.'
Humans, they said, were vulnerable to what they saw. And this dungeon was beautiful. Soft colors, glittering light—it all looked harmless. The scents, the temperature, the humidity—everything felt serene.
That was how it wormed its way in. It opened your heart, crept in, and slowly broke your mind. Like an addict to a drug, people lost their sanity yet clung to "something" they couldn't give up.
And in that deranged state, they insisted their happiness was right there.
'It's chilling'.
This dungeon brought out the ugliest parts of people.
"..."
And for that reason, they were wearing down.
Because they had to witness the bottom of their own hearts—and their comrades'.
***
"...A war of revelations?"
Cha Eun-Hyeok asked, and Gio nodded.
"This Garden keeps provoking people. It jabs at sensitive places and sets irresistible bait. From what little I've heard of the other teams, they sound like people hooked on highly addictive drugs."
"...That's..."
"In the end, it's like they're being trained to accept the attacks willingly. Like the 'Clowns of Happiness' who kept asking people what happiness meant—twisting that concept and using it as bait."
"..."
"Apparently, there have already been quite a few injuries and deaths."
Giovanni was still smiling, but Cha Eun-Hyeok could sense something distorted beneath it. He'd felt it before—Giovanni didn't seem to like Zeorge very much.
"The worst part is this: the Garden doesn't allow people to recognize attacks as attacks. So conflict arises anyway, people get exhausted, and teams get stuck..."
"...I understand what you're saying."
After a moment of hesitation, Cha Eun-Hyeok asked again.
"But I still don't get why you called it a 'war of revelations.'"
"Exactly what it sounds like. Bringing hidden things or past incidents out into the open."
"Like what happens on the internet... scandals about politicians or hunters, that kind of thing?"
"You could say it's similar."
Gio blinked and looked directly into Cha Eun-Hyeok's eyes.
"How good and righteous a person do you think you are, Mr. Cha?"
"...? Uh, well...??"
Will I die if I say I'm not good?
It was a divine being asking, and Cha Eun-Hyeok froze. Watching him stiffen, Yoo Seong-Woon interjected, wearing a slightly awkward smile to defuse his friend's tactless question.
"Gio, you can't ask like that. You'll scare him."
"I didn't mean to."
"I'll take over from here."
Yoo Seong-Woon picked up the explanation.
"Personally, I think Mr. Cha is a sincere and upright person."
"? Ah, um... thanks?"
"And do you see yourself that way?"
"I mean... I don't think I've done anything so terrible I'd get arrested, but 'sincere and upright' sounds like a stretch..."
"Exactly. Everyone, including themselves, knows they're imperfect. No one is flawless."
Yoo Seong-Woon rubbed his neck.
"Everyone has their shortcomings. What's good to one person might've seemed wrong to someone else. You've probably been hated, probably blamed yourself for mistakes..."
"There's no such thing as a perfectly blameless person."
"Right. I think so too. But when those imperfections are laid bare, people naturally recoil. That's human nature, isn't it?"
"Well... yeah, I guess it is."
Cha Eun-Hyeok believed that every person was selfish in some way. Not that he liked selfishness, or wanted to excuse it. He preferred good people, of course—because he himself was human.
Yoo Seong-Woon honed in on that.
"This dungeon forces those parts out into the open."
"...In what way?"
"In a bunch of ways, apparently."
Some people had their memories re-enacted. Others had symbolic triggers that set off trauma. For some, their guilt took form and made them lash out at others.
"Or it shows up as writing—like in reports or diaries."
It felt like smaller dungeons, themed after specific weaknesses, had popped up within the larger Garden. Which made the already surreal "Garden of Pleasure" even more twisted.
"...So it's like it airs out people's most embarrassing secrets?"
"If you want to put it lightly, sure. But just looking at ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) the number of people who've been hurt or killed makes it clear it's no laughing matter."
"I... didn't mean to make light of it."
"I know. I could tell you were trying to make sense of it. I wasn't blaming you. Some of the stories that've come out really are that petty."
As Gio watched Yoo Seong-Woon smile with quiet patience, he smiled as well.
"So in short, this Garden is designed to make people ugly. It takes the flaws that anyone might have—and deliberately makes them detestable. That's what makes it so much more malicious than other Gardens."
Then Giovanni added firmly,
"It lacks social awareness."
"Ah, well..."
"Or rather, it's thrown that away. Same difference. It mocks human etiquette as grotesque hypocrisy."
"I... I see."
Cha Eun-Hyeok stumbled over his words, startled by Giovanni's rare chill.
"But if that's the case, isn't there no way to fight back?"
"It's unpleasant to feel so thoroughly manipulated by the Garden's master, but that doesn't mean we're powerless."
"You mean... resisting with Garden power or divine force?"
"Well, those are more about endurance than active resistance. But I keep using the term 'war of revelations,' don't I?"
In ordinary human life, a war of revelations meant conflict. Going all-in, exposing each other's most damning secrets.
"We can expose this Garden's weaknesses in the same way."
"...Is that even possible? It's still a Garden, isn't it?"
"Even so, it insists on having a human form."
"So it must have memories—fragile ones."
"Either way, this place is dedicated to exposing human ugliness, isn't it?"
It was simple, really.
"If the dungeon master had chosen a non-human path, things might've been more complicated... but, well."
So long as he remained human, he couldn't escape the Garden's traits and rules. Zeorge knew that too. And yet he waited for the raid team.
That might even be something Zeorge was hoping for. Maybe he wanted a chance to escape this "beauty." Like a ghost trying to find peace—by becoming a nationwide nuisance first.
Still, if the solution had been handed to them this clearly, there was no reason not to take it. Even if following the path laid out by Zeorge left a sour taste.
"It's a dungeon of the mind. So we respond accordingly."
"So it's a battle of wills between humans and the Garden. Understood."
"Of course, we haven't found any concrete clues yet!"
Trying to lighten the mood, Giovanni let out his signature bright laugh.
"But I've decided not to be disappointed."
"Is that so."
"Considering how merciful Mr. Zeorge has been so far, we must still be at the entrance. I figure he's letting us acclimate before we reach more dangerous zones."
"Acclimate...? That's... can people adapt to this? These aren't physical wounds—it's about the mind, about the past... A single moment of carelessness can destroy a relationship."
"Isn't humanity the species of adaptation?"
"..."
Cha Eun-Hyeok fell silent. Sure, that was a saying—but he desperately hoped the Black Cloak didn't truly believe it and leave everything to them like, "I believe in you! Good luck!"
"But people are already getting hurt..."
"I think by now, people have realized that blindly relying on Garden or divine power isn't enough."
"...Yeah, that's true."
"Then it's time to try something else. Before we enter the more dangerous stages, we need to find a way to resist this mental assault."
Fortunately, the advance party had been chosen for their competence, in light of the dungeon's severity. No matter how harsh things got, these people wouldn't just stand around in shock.
Cha Eun-Hyeok still looked uncertain—either from lack of understanding or lack of faith.
"So what exactly is that 'something else'?"
"Well, I don't really know..."
Gio blinked, then smiled.
"But we'll try something."
Competence, after all, meant knowing how to handle variables.
***
"SANARAE, YOU DUMBASS BASTARD!!!"
"Uueegh."
The Haryeong team leader grabbed Sanarae by the collar and roared.
"Everyone knows you're a half-baked excuse for a human, so when did you get so noble you started acting shy?! Huh?! You think I supported your pathetic ass just so you could go all sulky and useless?!"
Sanarae whined under the sheer force of it.
"N-no, boss..."
"You know we're already a guild full of dumbasses, right?!"
"Uh, I do?"
"Then why the hell are you acting like this?!"
"I dunno..."
"Don't you 'I dunno' me! I fed you every goddamn day!!"
"Why're you so mean to meee..."
"WHY?! WHY?! You seriously asking that right now?!"
The leader shook him by the collar.
"Wake the hell up, you're scum! A sniveling, manipulative shit with no respect, always mouthing off! The only thing you've got going for you is a decent face! You hearing me?!"
"I'm crying, boss..."
"You! All of you worthless bastards! Listen up! Message from the Guild Master!!"
She turned to the hesitant Haryeong members and yelled.
"We were bottom-feeders from the start, got it?!"
"Ugh, why you gotta say it like that..."
"This guild was made by outcasts. Seeing the worst of ourselves changes nothing. You didn't come to Haryeong without knowing what kind of scum we are!"
"B-Boss..."
"Cut the mushy crap and shove off!"
She turned back to Sanarae, who was still wide-eyed, caught by the collar. His pitiful expression wasn't sad—it was irritating.
If he'd been this docile all the time, maybe she wouldn't have had to take stomach meds every day.
Seriously, this beast didn't have a single redeeming trait. Now, of all times, he had the nerve to act defeated? Without permission? Absolutely outrageous.
"Sanarae, what are you gonna do for a living?"
"I-I'm part of Haryeong... You gonna kick me out?"
"So what are you gonna do when we get out of this dungeon?"
"Live off the jobs you give me... Don't throw me away."
"Then what the fuck is wrong with you?! You think I'd release a bastard like you into society?!"
"...But..."
Sanarae stammered from within her grip.
"...I'm not human."
"You never were, you beast."
"Not even a beast."
"Knew it, you fuck. At least beasts listen when you beat 'em."
"I killed a lot of people..."
"You think we didn't?"
"...I ate them..."
Behind Sanarae, his "weak points," his "pride" lay scattered. A pitch-black lab strewn with the blood and flesh of innocent people. Still caught by the collar, Sanarae muttered,
"I'm a monster."
A man-made humanoid monster. A homunculus. A downgraded version, made by a group of damn Class-5 citizens. In other words, an illegally experimented monster.
He had begun as a doppelgänger, grown by consuming humans tossed to him by rogue researchers, and through experimentation became something that could perfectly mimic a human. Inside him swarmed the souls sacrificed in those experiments.
"Is that... still okay?"
It was the Guild Master of Haryeong who had taken him in and raised him as a person. Most guild members didn't know the truth. But today, it was laid bare. His monstrous nature—one no monster could discard—was exposed.
As a monster, Sanarae was aroused by human suffering. He found joy in their pain and pride in his violence. Even if you didn't call him a monster, he'd still be garbage. That liminal thing, neither human nor monster.
And the team leader had only one answer.
"You never listen, do you, asshole."
WHAM—!!!
Perfectly consistent.
"...!!"
Sanarae clutched his head in immense pain.
"...Kkgh...!"
"You think I'm doing this to move you or something? You seriously believe that?"
"Uuehh, no...??"
"As your boss, it's my job to at least make you act human."
"I already do a good job..."
"You learned wrong, Sanarae. People don't live like you."
She smiled sweetly.
"You're just an unfinished human."
"Aha."
"So stop whining and get to work. Unless this whole meltdown is some elaborate strategy to tank Haryeong's raid through emotional sabotage."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Oh my, what a good answer. So adorable."
"I'm adorable?"
"And now you're acting up again, damn it."
"Eeep!!"
The familiar exchange made the rest of the guild relax.
"...She's not human either."
"Yeah... no normal person would beat up a reporter like that..."
"Explains why just breathing around her made me anxious."
"Turns out it really wasn't just a vibe—she really wasn't human."
"Didn't quite finish becoming human, huh. Must've skipped the studying part."
"Too busy fighting to study, probably."
"Yeah, that checks out. Let's give him a break."
It was an absurd conclusion—but that was Haryeong's answer. They didn't need heartfelt speeches or tearful encouragement.
They were a guild of rejects. If a monster who could mimic humans well enough was part of the team, that probably made him one of the most human among them. That's why Sanarae was the team leader.
And so, with something like friendship forged through fists, Haryeong managed to steady themselves. Whether their captain was human or monster didn't seem to matter much.
"So what do we do now, Boss?"
"Go find one of those damn safe zones everyone else keeps stumbling into, you freeloaders."
"Yes ma'am."
And just like that, Haryeong found their answer.
And one by one, the others began finding theirs too.
-x-X-x-
Haryeong chose the "Oh right, we're beasts" approach. In other words, they openly acknowledged their own ugliness. Like how fish don't drown in water—it was a matter of habitat.
It was a method only possible because Haryeong's expectations of themselves were already in the negatives. They were always prepared to shrug off a "You're trash" with a "? And what's that to me?" Haryeong's guild members were, in their own way, quite good at self-awareness.
Of course, that wasn't something just anyone could pull off. So the Moon Sect chose knowledge and research instead.
"I-I-I did it...!!"
The voice of a still-young girl rang through the Garden.
"It works successfully!!!"
"WAAAAAH!!"
"As expected of our Moon!!"
"Praise be to her!!!"
The Moon Sect's new Moon, Aram—now slightly more grown physically—held aloft a brilliantly glowing moon and cried out, and the priests erupted in cheers. Their shouting seemed like it could reach the heavens themselves.
Aram, once a Saintess, cried tears of pride as she shouted.
"We finally found the formula! Truly, with the help of our seniors, there's no mystery too complex for us to organize! Let us all praise our seniors who unraveled this intricate and abstruse enigma!"
"As expected of the saints and saintesses of the Moon Sect!"
"They're the ones who gave that frail Moon a brain and a heart!"
"O noble and wise saints of the Moon Sect!"
The Moon Sect's priests were, in truth, more like scholars. And they were, well, significantly lacking in social skills. They were nothing like Haryeong, who could solve things with brute stupidity and loosened screws.
In the end, they set out to replicate the power of a gardener. Thanks to the unusually heavy time distortion in their area, they had a slight advantage. Over the span of more than four months, the priests of the Moon Sect worked together to develop a "Garden Formula."
If they couldn't find a solution, they would be wiped out before they could even begin proper exploration—so they had to figure something out.
"With this, even hunters and priests can imitate a gardener's power!"
Aram, filled with elation, choked up once more.
"Even this insane experiment has an end...!"
"It's truly a relief that the 481,043rd final trial succeeded."
"To think we could achieve this much in under a year—this must be a miracle. Without the help of our saints, this would've been impossible."
"You're absolutely right!"
"And we must never forget the support of our young hatchlings who helped keep the hands and feet of our seniors warm so the Moon could turn smoothly."
"Of course, Bishop...!!"
In truth, research into this had begun from the moment "Garden" and "gardener" became known to the world. They'd long suspected that "mystery" lay beneath all foundations—skills, dungeons, monsters—and had dedicated themselves to studying it.
And at last, amid this dire ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) situation, the Moon Sect had succeeded. Having completed their "Garden Formula," they used divine power to suppress the Garden's severe distortions.
"It really is more effective than divine power."
"When the Sect's gates reopen, we must recruit priests with gardener potential first..."
"Still, it's thanks to the gardeners who've quietly supported us that we made it this far."
"They might've found it uncomfortable, yet they helped anyway. We owe them a great deal."
"We'll have to thank them again later."
Of course, it couldn't match a real gardener's power. The formula only worked inside the Garden, since it borrowed power from the Garden they themselves were residing in. It consumed mental and physical energy quickly.
But it was still far better than nothing. Since they were coloring themselves with the Garden's own hues, the strength of the mental assaults had all but vanished. It was similar to how one's own organ wouldn't attack itself.
"Then let's share the formula with everyone! The comms equipment is in shambles, so spreading it will be hard, but it's unthinkable for us to keep it to ourselves, right?"
"Bishop, you're right! The number of casualties we heard in the last communication still rings in my ears. If we use the formula, it might even reduce the distortion on the comms!"
One of the excited priests added,
"But... can other people use this formula?"
"...Ah?"
"Ah..."
"Ahh..."
It wasn't a formula exclusively for Moon Sect divine power. They had created it with the intent of maximizing survival across the raid participants. But what they hadn't anticipated was not that it would be used by hunters or priests from other sects.
"It's whether anyone outside the Moon Sect would even understand it."
The problem was that no one else was as studious as the Moon Sect.
"..."
"..."
"...Maybe we can do a lecture..."
"A lecture? Over this pitiful comms system? To hunters?"
"Simplifying the formula for general use would be faster."
Aram nodded. She, too, couldn't imagine feeding this formula into the heads of clueless civilians using these miserable communication devices. There was a high chance they wouldn't even grasp the basic fundamentals.
Association staff or fellow priests might manage. But most hunters, on average, were... less diligent about studying. Rather than hoping for a miraculous mass IQ boost, it seemed more realistic that the scholars who made the formula should do a bit more work.
"Everyone, gather up again. Let's try condensing the formula."
"Ah... just how much will we have to dumb it down to get those blockheads to understand..."
"You can't just insult people for not studying enough."
And so, the Moon Sect found their own way to resist.
And it wasn't just them adjusting. In the end, if one didn't want to die, they had to adapt—to this mental assault, to this intangible and unfamiliar mystery. That applied to everyone in the raid.
"Uh, uhh..."
"? What is it."
"Hey, I think I got it."
"Got what."
"This Garden or whatever—it's clicking!"
"Are you drunk? You used to be an alcoholic—don't tell me..."
"No, seriously?! You gonna keep jabbing that wound?!"
Some hunters were now seeing results, thanks to their prior efforts during the "System Error Incident." It paid off for those who had endured the era without the System, those who had quietly reached out to retired hunters and hidden gardeners for guidance.
"This is crazy, how'd you do it? It never worked in the real world."
"Ah... it's just different. It feels totally different from Earth. I think the environment here made it possible."
"What exactly is different?"
"It's like I can breathe better? You know how water magic works better in wet areas? It's like that."
"Bro I'm a dealer not a mage, how the hell am I supposed to get that."
"Think about it—can you breathe where there's no oxygen?!"
"How is this the same thing?!"
There was a bit of commotion and friction in the process of sharing these insights, but some were beginning to see results. For the first time, they were experiencing "mystery" itself, not skills filtered through the System.
"...So this is what mystery is."
"It's not totally unlike skills, but it's..."
"It feels like I've grown a new sense."
And it wasn't just one or two. Many of the current raid members had once sought new learning during the "System Error Incident," and a surprising number of them were starting to feel the effects.
"Hey, hey, look at this."
"That's the skill you always use. What am I supposed to see?"
"No, it's different. I'm not using the System—it feels like I created it myself."
"Man, what the hell kind of freaky thing are you doing..."
And in that process, another phenomenon began.
"...Huh?"
"S-System...!"
"What the hell's going on?!"
The hunters who had successfully felt and wielded mystery began to experience System failure.
The interface started displaying scrambled symbols and characters before glitching out entirely. After a prolonged malfunction, the System darkened and eventually displayed only a few lines.
Variable detected
Base calculations exceeded
Error occurred
And then, it stopped.
System shutting down
It was hard to comprehend.
"Wh-what's happening?!"
"Dude, my System's gone."
"What is this, a crashed server reservation page?!"
Some began to piece it together.
"...Is this really it?"
"What is?"
"The server crashed?"
"? What did I even do?"
"It says 'base calculation,' see?"
A hunter hesitantly offered a hypothesis.
"It's like... a game tutorial ended. Like we've outgrown the basic stage, and the current System can't calculate beyond that."
"...You're saying the System is a game?"
"Well, Earth had game-based systems even before the Catastrophe. Honestly, doesn't it feel kinda similar? Is it just me?"
"So the System copied a game format?"
"It's just a theory, but..."
A similar theory was forming in the mind of one of the advance party—President of the Association, Dan Haera.
"..."
"Madam President, this is..."
"...It was a tutorial."
She laughed for the first time in a while.
"Ahaha, haha...!"
"..."
"My god... it really was a game. It followed a game format."
Back during the chaotic aftermath of the Great Catastrophe, it had been a way to help as many people adapt as possible. Teacher, indeed—how kind.
Dan Haera had realized the nature of the System and the reason behind this phenomenon. "Teacher Sergio" had become the System to help humanity survive and learn. And once people could sense mystery without the System's help, the basic education ended.
At that point, they wouldn't die even without it.
"Our director can still use skills even though the System shut down?"
"Yes. Not everyone succeeded, but there are quite a few cases like mine."
"When exactly did the System shut off?"
"It was after we sensed mystery—the essence behind our skills—and confirmed we could use our skills through that."
"So in other words, the moment you proved you could use skills without System assistance... it shut off?"
"Yes, most likely... that's how it felt."
"That's truly fascinating. I like it."
Dan Haera blinked, then smiled deeply.
"...We really need to keep the System, then."
It had endless potential.
Jeong Hae-Woon said this power wasn't his... but even so, I feel it belongs to me. As the owner of the Promise, it means I can possibly intervene in the System, which was born from it...
If this was basic education, then next could be advanced education. If that worked, the future planned by the Symbols of Eternity might come sooner than expected.
Dan Haera decided to acknowledge it: this, too, was effective teaching by the Black Cloak. Even if it shook nations and caused casualties, the result was worth the price.
The System must be preserved. There's too much to gain. Now that I understand its essence, it can be used more effectively. What better textbook could exist for properly educating hunters—dangerous weapons who can act anytime, anywhere?
Her goal had changed, but her task remained the same. Dan Haera would defeat "Zeorge," and convince "Gio's Portrait" to develop a new System.
And if persuasion fails... I'll make a Promise.
Just as they had used a Promise to stop divine beings from interfering recklessly with Earth—Dan Haera's power could work on even the grandest mystery. And for that, she would prepare a great price.
"I'll act alone from here."
"But Madam President...!"
"You don't think I can handle myself, do you? Or are you saying you can't manage without my supervision?"
"No, of course not. But it's just... too dangerous. This is a dungeon and a Garden at once."
"That's exactly why solitary exploration has value."
She needed more memories. More emotions. She had to collect as much as possible to eventually build the new System.
"See you later."
And so, Dan Haera began acting alone.
***
And a few days later—
"...A-A Clown..."
"What?"
"A Clown has appeared."
The real "attack" had begun.
-x-X-x-