The key to clearing the dungeon had been hidden by its master.
"It's typical."
"Well, yes, but...."
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded at Aram's words, yet wore a subtle expression.
"It was so typical that I didn't even think of it."
This wasn't a standard dungeon.
At its core, it was a garden, and it had only been dungeonized using the power of the Black Cloak. There had been some discussion during the pre-entry meeting that a method like this might be possible, but most hadn't given it serious weight.
It was the same after entering.
"Since it's not a familiar dungeon structure... the more we experienced it from the inside, the more that became the case. So most people seemed to give up from the start on thinking of it as a 'dungeon' at all. We were the same."
"We only became confident after understanding the flow. Until then, it was just one of many possible assumptions. Especially in a situation this distorted, being confused is only natural."
Aram, the most sociable member of the Moon Sect, comforted Yoo Seong-Woon naturally. It was clear she was trying to initiate as much conversation as possible, knowing they'd be traveling together for a while.
Around that time, Gio quietly revealed himself. He had appeared to be in continuous conversation with Cha Eun-Hyeok ever since they departed following the short meeting with the Moon Sect. Now, it seemed he'd taken an interest in this side.
"What were you discussing?"
"Ah, just talking about the dungeon strategy."
"I truly didn't think it would work like that."
"...."
Yoo Seong-Woon almost said his usual line, "Did you really not know?", but held his tongue. After all, wasn't the Moon Sect's new bishop relying on "Hunter Sergio" as a human teacher?
There was no benefit in revealing that he was actually a far more mischievous and secretive being than publicly known.
'Looks like he's having a lot of fun playing the role of a human teacher... as a curator, it wouldn't be right to interfere with that.'
Having reached that thought, Yoo Seong-Woon just smiled.
"Isn't it fortunate? Thanks to that, we've got something to work with. Honestly, I was worried the advance party, aside from a few exceptions, might all fall behind. Frankly, in a situation like this, even total annihilation seemed possible...."
"I doubt it would've reached total annihilation, but I agree that it wasn't a good situation. Aram and the Moon Sect really did something significant."
As he said this, Gio turned to look at the Moon nestled in Aram's arms with a gentle smile in his eyes.
"Our Moon, as well."
At that moment, the Moon sparkled.
"...."
"Uh...? The Moon...."
"Hm."
"She's never reacted this brightly even to my words. As expected of you, Teacher...! Would it be alright if I conducted a study later on the correlation between the Moon and you?"
"Can I answer that after I see the results?"
"Ah, of course. I got a little too excited. This sort of reaction is extremely rare...."
"Ha ha."
Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Gio, who brushed off the moment with a skilled laugh, with a strange gaze.
'...The Moon Sect's new bishop can't possibly be a fool, and yet she's letting this slide.'
Thanks to Aram's firm bias, they were able to move past it smoothly, but there were moments when this guy acted like he didn't even intend to hide the fact that he wasn't human.
"By the way, I do have a question."
Perhaps trying to change the subject, Gio asked Aram a question.
"Could I hear the exact contents of the letter, Bishop?"
"It does feel a little strange to be called Bishop by you, Teacher...."
"You seemed so composed. Don't pretend."
"To be honest, it did take some time to get here. I have a long, dramatic backstory I couldn't have endured without venting, but I'll save that story for later when we return. Anyway."
Perhaps because she'd looked up to Gio as an adult figure from the beginning. Though she had grown somewhat compared to before, Aram now looked up at him with the ease of a child whose tension had melted away.
"As I mentioned before we moved, it was a love letter."
"And the gender?"
"Unless it's a world where men wear dresses, the sender was probably a woman. There was one mention of a dress she planned to wear."
"Dresses tend to be expensive in most cultures, right? Maybe she was a noble?"
"That's the assumption. But the recipient of the letter seemed to be of lower status. There wasn't a direct mention of a class system, but..."
"If that's what you concluded, Aram, I'll believe it."
"Thank you. As for the exact contents, let's see...."
After thinking for a moment, Aram continued.
"The sender referred to the recipient as 'my love.'"
"Oh my."
"Or things like 'my flower,' or 'my little bird.' So the recipient's age is quite unclear."
"Considering how sweet the language is, maybe the sender was a bit older?"
"We assume the sender wasn't a child, at least. But the issue lies with the recipient. In the letter, they're described both as very young and as a composed adult."
"That's... strange."
"Personally, I hope they were an adult. The idea that the sender was a pedophile makes me feel sick."
The letter was quite thick. If it had been short, not even the Moon Sect would've been able to interpret it. Thanks to that, they were able to decipher the language and analyze the contents in more depth.
"Perhaps the recipient could actually change their appearance at will. We're currently assuming that the person who received this letter is the dungeon master, or someone closely connected to them."
"Even if such a being had those powers from their human days, it wouldn't be surprising, right? That makes sense to me too."
"Or perhaps there was something wrong with the sender's mind. Either way... it was someone very obsessed. It seems he offered all kinds of gifts, watching for the recipient's reactions. He even praised their singing and dancing as too beautiful for words."
The content of the letter was so sweet and heavy that it bordered on the grotesque. The language used seemed refined, but no amount of elegant packaging could cover the disturbing obsession.
"It felt like someone completely bewitched... but I still don't know whose fault it was. Was the sender always so greedy, or did the recipient make them that way?"
The problem was, both were plausible. The world was full of various lunatics obsessed with "love," and on the other hand, this dungeon had an unusually strong power to seduce people. It could very well have been both.
"The three letters we found all contained similar content. From the many decorative phrases, we could gather the era and culture, but it wasn't enough to fully grasp the story they were entangled in."
"So we still need more clues?"
"At this point, I kind of wish the dungeon master would just show up already. Anyway, that's all we've been able to find so far."
"You've done good work."
Aram smiled as if grateful, then turned to her companions. The priests of the Moon Sect met her eyes and nodded. They were reactions that suggested they had sensed—no, calculated—something.
"It seems we're about to enter the area that might be considered the 'answer.'"
Just as she said, the scenery around them was beginning to change.
"This place...."
"I can't see very well up ahead."
"...Ah!"
One of the Collector's members let out a gasp.
"The Gem's Waterway!"
It definitely resembled that place.
***
"If it's the Gem's Waterway...."
At Cha Eun-Hyeok's murmur, Gio nodded.
"It's probably the place you're thinking of, Mr. Cha."
"Do Earth dungeons usually show up in gardens like this?"
"If we're being precise, it doesn't seem to be the exact same place."
"So it's just a resemblance?"
"There must be a reason, but yes—it's clearly a different location in the same format."
"...I've heard Cha Ara talk about it before."
Cha Eun-Hyeok said this, looking at Gio with a strange expression.
"She said it was terrifying."
"That's all?"
"She also said the food was delicious."
"Oh, how sweet."
"Is that so."
Since admitting they both knew of the Black Cloak, Cha Ara and Cha Eun-Hyeok had exchanged quite a few conversations. One of those was about their first encounter with the "Gem's Waterway."
"Truthfully, I can't really see things very well myself...."
"But you can see the gems clearly, right?"
"Yes, it's odd. I can only see up to right near the gems."
"It's because of a type of monster that grows densely in the air."
Gio lightly waved his hand.
"Thankfully, the light of the sun passes through to some extent."
Around his softly glowing hand, their field of vision brightened.
"How are the Moon Sect's priests faring?"
"Our power doesn't seem to be working very well."
Unlike the sun, the moon cannot shine on its own. Aram shook her head as their representative.
"I've never actually entered the 'Gem's Waterway,' but this place feels like the air is heavier than there. Among us, I'd say the Moon is the only one managing to emit some power."
Just as she said, visibility was clear only up to the Moon and Aram who held her. It seemed the Moon had voluntarily begun to shine, judging that securing vision was important.
Even so, the surroundings were not fully illuminated. Even if it shared a format with Earth, it was clearly of a higher-level dungeon—or at least a more demanding garden. Nothing was handed over easily.
"...."
And Gio blinked in silence.
'...Am I the only one seeing them again?'
Even though monsters were floating around, no one else reacted.
'This reminds me of when I first met Dana.'
The Gem's Waterway was fundamentally a place with strong negative energy. Well, maybe it was—I couldn't be sure, but someone like Seong-Woon said so, so let's go with that. Anyway, ghost-type monsters were relatively common there.
'This place... it's a little similar....'
Some distorted ghostly figures could be seen.
'I really do think I'm the only one seeing them.'
Gio hesitated between keeping quiet until others noticed or speaking up in advance. But since this was a dangerous dungeon, it seemed better to give a warning before anyone got hurt.
"...Just like in the Gem's Waterway, ghost-type monsters are visible here."
"Ah, I see."
"They're not showing particularly aggressive behavior like the ones in Earth's dungeons, but given how easily things can be distorted here, it's best to stay cautious."
"We should prepare accordingly."
Thankfully, the people gathered here included priests with overwhelming superiority against undead-type monsters, and «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» Collectors who specialized in curses and anomalies. The exploration proceeded relatively smoothly.
"Hm, I wonder what kind of connection there is between the 'Garden of Pleasure' and the 'Gem's Waterway'? I don't think it's a very well-known dungeon on Earth...."
"Well, to be blunt, it's known as a tasteless dungeon, Bishop."
Yoo Seong-Woon continued with his characteristic relaxed smile.
"It's hard to achieve what counts as a successful clear—escape—but the rewards are especially lackluster. Because the effort outweighs the gains, most hunters tend to avoid it. If there's anything profitable, it'd probably be Anti-Cat."
"You seem very familiar with the 'Gem's Waterway,' Curator Yoo. Have you entered it yourself? Was there anything special besides Anti-Cat?"
"Ah, not particularly. It's just that my partner, Hunter Sergio, showed some interest, so I did a bit of research for him."
"The Teacher...?"
Gio chuckled and gently stroked the round waterbird perched on his shoulder.
"My eldest child at home happens to be very fond of gems."
"Ah, I see."
Aram, who had memorized all of the waterbird's habits, nodded.
"As I recall, you met Dana in the 'Gem's Waterway'...."
"That's right. I brought her back and raised her, and she grew up wonderfully—so affectionate too."
"I've never heard of an Anti-Cat being affectionate before."
Right around then—
"Ah, there's a distortion in the particles over there...."
"...."
"...Someone's there."
As Aram's face stiffened, Gio, who alone had secured full visibility, spoke up.
"It's a clown."
A familiar-looking clown, in fact.
-x-X-x-
God approached and asked.
"How much longer do you think you can endure?"
"...What do you mean?"
"Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok. I mean you."
"...."
He seemed slightly taken aback by the question, which lacked context.
The Collector's team was moving smoothly under the Moon Sect's guidance, and Cha Eun-Hyeok himself had recently found emotional stability after reuniting with his youngest sibling, Cha I-Sol. He thought, is this really the time for ominous lines like 'how much longer can you endure?'
But perhaps because of that, one person came to mind.
"...I don't know. I don't want to answer rashly."
"You're a very cautious man, Mr. Cha."
"If you're in a position where you're responsible for siblings who could have their noses cut off while their eyes are open no matter where they go, this becomes your way of life. What exactly did you come here to ask, Hunter Seo?"
"I didn't think it was such a difficult question."
"Then I'll say it again: I don't know."
There was still a sibling he hadn't found.
"I'm just maintaining an uneasy state."
"Is it like waiting for a report card?"
"I've never really been in a position to receive one, so I wouldn't know... but I suppose it's something like that? Honestly, not knowing the outcome might be a little more comforting."
Cha Eun-Hyeok then corrected himself.
"No, actually... It's not a state where either outcome would bring comfort."
"I thought as much. The safety of family is important."
"...Where they are, what state they're in. I shouldn't ask, right? I know I shouldn't."
"I'm sorry to say, but I won't be able to help you much here either."
"I... heard that too."
Curator Yoo Seong-Woon had come to explain it in advance, perhaps out of concern for Cha Eun-Hyeok's mental well-being as the only civilian in the team. He said that this was not an environment where they could utilize Guildmaster Bisa Beul or Hunter Sergio's sight, and thus they wouldn't be able to assist.
It seemed they understood the vulnerability of civilians, who were more prone to mental contamination. Thanks to that, he had fortunately stopped resenting them—but that didn't mean he felt any better. Either way, it wasn't a hopeful situation.
"...It's not that I lack the ability to endure."
"Is that so?"
"I'm just someone who's used to assuming the worst."
"I see."
"It's convenient not to expect anything."
Living in this world as a third-tier civilian wasn't easy.
Being a third-tier civilian meant you didn't have the right to choose. No matter what abilities your siblings awakened, you didn't have the right to stop them from becoming hunters. No matter what happened to them out there, even if they came back injured, you didn't have the right to get angry.
"Still, even so... I end up wishing."
Can't you at least stay safe?
"Wanting your family not to be hurt is natural, isn't it?"
"For someone who loves their family like you, Mr. Cha, all the more so."
"Fortunately, my youngest came back to me in one piece."
"That was a great stroke of luck."
"I wish that luck would come one more time."
Having said that, Cha Eun-Hyeok let out a short laugh.
"Still, I think it's better not to hope."
When he answered that way, God didn't change the subject. As always, he looked at Cha Eun-Hyeok with a smiling face, then gave a faint nod and ended the conversation.
"...."
Cha Eun-Hyeok couldn't tell what that vast divine being was trying to see in him. Hope? Despair? How could a mere human possibly grasp such an unfathomable heart?
He simply wondered if perhaps, the unknown gaze or interest directed at him just then might have been one of those 'shards' that curators were said to receive from time to time. Whether it would become a blessing or a curse—he thought vaguely—it would be something he'd learn with time.
And perhaps, it was a prelude to something.
"...."
"Are you happy?"
"...."
"Are you happy, oppa?"
Was that what God had been warning him about? Was this how a god foretold the future? All those questions were swallowed whole by the clown.
"...Cha Ara...."
His sister stood before them, wearing a clown's outfit.
***
Less than a second after assessing the situation, Yoo Seong-Woon spoke.
"Please assist Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok and Priestess Cha I-Sol."
"Yes, Curator Yoo Seong-Woon."
At Yoo Seong-Woon's instruction, some members of the Collector's Guild approached Cha Eun-Hyeok and Cha I-Sol. Fortunately, the two were frozen stiff and obediently followed the staff's guidance.
'Or more precisely, they're too shocked to resist.'
Having quickly handled the minor details, Yoo Seong-Woon turned to Gio.
"You seemed to be having a conversation with Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok earlier."
"I wasn't expecting something like this when we spoke."
"But didn't you sort of give him a hint?"
"More like... Mr. Zeorge's personality is worse than I imagined."
"So you did suspect something like this might happen."
"Didn't you also have a similar idea in mind, Mr. Yoo Seong-Woon? That was the level I was at."
"Hmm, well, fair enough."
There was no time to play the "Eyes of Origin" game in a situation like this. Confident that ending the conversation here wouldn't disturb his piece of work's mood, Yoo Seong-Woon turned his gaze to the distant figure again.
"This is troublesome."
"Even if it wasn't Miss Cha Ara, we would've faced a similar situation eventually."
"That's true... but still, ugh, it really leaves a bad taste."
Cha Ara, unlike usual, was dressed to the nines.
Her short bobbed hair was curled neatly, pale cheeks like paper had tear designs painted on them, and her outfit—which included a skirt she didn't usually wear—was decorated with excessive frills and ribbons, making it both flashy and somehow chaotic.
As he studied her appearance, Yoo Seong-Woon spoke again.
"For a clown, doesn't she look rather refined?"
"It's certainly an over-the-top outfit. It seems they're desperate to attach every pretty and stylish thing in existence. Seeing as they have no sense of selection or focus, their fashion sense is obvious. ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) Like a child who doesn't understand the beauty of empty space."
"Ah, I guess you don't like this kind of thing...."
It appeared that Giovanni was the one who disliked it, to be precise. Yoo Seong-Woon, who had reviewed many materials on the "clowns" that had appeared on Earth, realized that Cha Ara's clown attire was a bit different from theirs.
"Still, she's much more prettily dressed than the other clowns, right?"
At Yoo Seong-Woon's remark, several Collector members nodded in agreement. Giovanni, wearing a subtly displeased expression as if not willing to deny the truth, finally conceded.
"I can tell more effort went into it."
"And the fact that Hunter Cha Ara is in the area where we think the 'answer' might be located...."
"We should stay cautious."
"You mean there might be differences from the ordinary clowns."
At that, Yoo Seong-Woon fell silent. A strange stillness settled among those sensing the off-kilter atmosphere.
"...."
"...She's not attacking?"
"She's just watching quietly."
"Why...?"
Cha Ara—the clown—stood motionless among the gems. All she did was smile toward them. Whether mentally or physically, it was a reaction distinctly different from the other clowns, who had attacked immediately.
"Is there a possibility this too has been distorted?"
"No, the flow of particles is unchanged. It wouldn't be called stable, but within this dungeon, the flow is rather gentle."
"Then why...?"
As the tension began to settle and everyone's attention focused, the clown, who had been silent all along, spread her arms.
"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen."
Her voice was as clear as a chime, yet somehow mechanical. She wore a drawn-on, unchanging smile, and in her hand was a hat. Yoo Seong-Woon instinctively scanned it.
'Is that Zeorge's magic hat?'
A black hat that seemed to have its own will. Faint golden patterns shimmered under the light of the gems, almost invisible, and a smooth blue ribbon wrapped around it, as if made of silk. It was unmistakably Zeorge's.
'But does it make sense for a mere monster to have the boss's precious possession?'
Then the clown's words continued naturally.
"I welcome you, who have arrived at this deep waterway on your own two feet."
"That means?"
"Among the uninvited guests of the garden, you have proven yourselves not to be the dumbest. For that, a sweet reward awaits. I have been designed to answer exactly three questions from you."
"That's...."
"You have exactly six minutes. The right to ask belongs only to the three with the highest contributions. I recommend thinking carefully, as there are questions I cannot answer."
The clown called out three names.
"Aram. Yoo Seong-Woon. Cha Eun-Hyeok."
"...."
"Then please, in order, ask your questions without delay."
At that, Gio looked at Aram.
"Does this mean we've reached the 'answer'?"
"At the very least, it's the exact opposite of what happened when we found the other artifact... so I think we can consider it that way. We've gained a valuable opportunity. But six minutes isn't much time."
"We can't afford a long discussion like we did before entering the dungeon."
"We'll have to think later about the purpose and criteria behind determining contribution. For now, we need to ask our questions. But if we ask something too central to the dungeon, there's a high chance they won't answer... we'll need to be careful."
With only brief exchanges of glances, the Q&A began without any preliminary discussion. Aram, the first to be called, addressed the clown—still holding the hat, not wearing it.
"We believe there are 'answers' that aid in clearing this world and 'wrong answers' that hinder it. If that's true, tell us—are you the 'answer'? Or is there a separate item like the wrong artifact?"
"I shall answer. I am merely the clown who appeared to praise you, the least foolish of the uninvited guests. I dare not call myself the 'answer.' Therefore, you will surely find what you seek in this place. You have found the 'answer.' What a cute word. I am happy."
Next, Yoo Seong-Woon spoke.
"This place strongly resembles the 'Gem's Waterway,' a dungeon on Earth. It doesn't seem to be the exact same space, but the connection is undeniable. Is this world connected to or derived from the 'Gem's Waterway'? Or is it merely imitating one of Earth's many dungeons?"
"I shall answer. The dungeon you call 'Gem's Waterway' is one of the branches derived from this deep and vast waterway. This place functions as one of the unique properties of this world and thus cannot be called a mere imitation. That was a good question. I am pleased—happy, even."
Then came Cha Eun-Hyeok.
"...."
"...."
Cha Eun-Hyeok...
"...."
Involuntarily, he looked toward "Hunter Sergio."
He didn't know why. But suddenly, he remembered the conversation they had before coming here. The one where he was asked how long he could endure—how prepared he was.
If that had been one of those clichés—a god's ominous prophecy—then...
'...Are you okay?'
What should he ask?
'Do you remember me? Did you become a monster? Are you dead, Cha Ara?'
There was so much he wanted to ask.
'How did this happen? Our youngest is watching—how much worse will this get? Why are you doing this to me? What did I do wrong? Are you in pain? What's your state? Why are you like this? Is there no way to come back? Can't you just come back like nothing happened?'
There were so many things—too many to ask all of them. Surrounded by Collector staff keeping close like guards to prevent any sudden action, Cha Eun-Hyeok looked at the clown in the distance.
He realized anew how the mind could go numb when panicked. Not even when he first saw a Child of Origin had he felt like this.
'...What do I ask? There's not much time left. How long have I been hesitating? Should I be doing this? Don't I need to ask something? I should ask something useful for clearing the dungeon—but Cha Ara, now, back then, why did God ask me that? What am I supposed to do? What should I....'
Can he avoid regret?
"...What is the clown?"
He forced the words out like he was going to die.
"I want to know the identity of the happy clown—someone related to the master of this world."
"Is that your question, Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok?"
Cha Eun-Hyeok couldn't say anything in response.
Perhaps he had just kicked away his last chance to connect with his sister. His expression was not just blank—it had hardened like a corpse. All he could do was stare at the smiling clown.
Then the clown narrowed her eyes into a deep smile and answered.
"I shall answer."
"...."
"We can become someone's limbs, or their family, or friends. This applies to all living humans. Therefore, we are happy. We can be anything to you. And we can do anything. Oh yes, we are happy."
"...Can you tell me in more detail?"
Cha Eun-Hyeok's voice trembled, spat out like a crushed whisper.
"How you're made, and out of what...."
"I cannot answer."
"Does it hurt... or did it...?"
"I cannot answer."
"Please... Cha Ara."
"I cannot answer."
"...."
"All of your questions have been used, Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok."
"Ah...."
"The Q&A session is now over."
Saying that, the clown flipped the hat she was holding and tapped it twice. The gesture, almost playful, prompted the hat to spit out a colorful doll with a curt pop.
The doll swelled, bent, tore—
"Then I wish you all good luck."
In an instant, the cave filled with grotesque clowns.
"Well, well. I knew it wouldn't end that easily."
"...."
"Please take good care of poor Mr. Cha Eun-Hyeok and the priestesses."
The clowns multiplied instantly, moving with bizarre gestures and making crunching, grinding, grotesque sounds. Their movements were somehow more unpleasant than those of previous clowns. And as always, Bisa Beul, who had remained quiet, gave a crooked smile and tilted his head.
"Let's see how my cute creations perform."
"Yes, Guildmaster."
"Then get ready."
With a rattling of weapons and a crisp finger snap—
"Begin."
Clink!
One of Bisa Beul's rings shattered.
-x-X-x-
Bisa Beul's body was quite weak.
Compared to an ordinary civilian, he was healthy and resilient, sure—but the problem was that with that level of physical ability, he couldn't possibly survive inside a dungeon. In B-grade dungeons or higher, even breathing itself could become difficult.
The reason why someone like Bisa Beul could remain unscathed in the Garden of Pleasure—rated S-grade or above—was...
"Ah, ah, hold on, hold on."
To put it simply, he had incredibly sharp vision.
"To the side, there, yes. A little more to the side."
"Executing."
"38.98 meters—take that into account."
"Executing."
"Whoa... watch your head."
"Yes, Guildmaster."
Clang!!
Crunch, crackkkk—!
Shatter...!
In the blink of an eye, countless rings lit up, shattered, cracked, and flickered again. And it wasn't just his own rings—what he had been wearing like a mad crow, his "works," began to shine.
"Careful."
"Yes, Guildmaster."
And among Bisa Beul's "works" were his guild members as well.
"Hold your breath within a 500-meter radius. Ah, you can breathe again. Three close-range operatives in mid-rank, scream now."
"Aaaaaargh—!!!!"
"Kyaaaah—!!!"
"Good, now move."
Kwagagagagagagak!!!
Dozens of giant hands stretched out toward the area where the screams had come from, and as the agents ducked into the ground to avoid them, the clowns swarmed in. Naturally, the clowns were crushed and burst to death.
"Ten operatives on the front line, give me your professional smiles~ C'mon now, smile!"
Ten guild members fighting furthest from the center smiled as if they'd been drawn on. Smiles like those seen at the front desk of a hotel—and above their heads, halos descended. They sparkled as if made of gold, catching the eyes of the monsters.
"Thirty-two in close-range formation—suppress aggro."
"Yes, Guildmaster."
"Executing."
Thirty-two operatives blocked and cut down the clowns who reached toward them as if hypnotized. The clowns, mesmerized by the golden halos, couldn't dodge and took the hits. On top of the destroyed clowns, golden flowers bloomed brilliantly and began to devour the surroundings.
"Ten of you—close your eyes and tear off the halos. Ten minutes of darkness."
"Yes, Guildmaster...!"
Tudukduk—...!
All ten simultaneously closed their eyes and tore off their halos. The thirty-two nearby operatives helped their staggering comrades retreat. Bisa Beul turned his eyes again.
"No one is to approach within ten meters of me."
"Yes, Guildmaster."
An earring shattered with a sharp clatter, and at the same time, a thread-woven bracelet began to burn. Blood flowed from Bisa Beul's ears. He wiped it with a handkerchief and said:
"Regroup."
When those protecting him regrouped, Bisa Beul shouted:
"Sound suppression!!!"
"Yes!!!"
The Collector's guild members blocked their ears using items, tools, or their hands. The Moon Sect's priests also took the cue and blocked their ears. Then, as if the world paused, a bizarre thunderous roar exploded—and half of the clowns' heads burst like fireworks.
"Random forty-four, deliver criticals and regenerate."
"Yes, Guildmaster!!"
Forty-four operatives slit their own throats and immediately used healing items to recover. As they did, the bracelet that had been burning on Bisa Beul's wrist turned to ash and scattered. He looked over his burned hand and arm, then grinned.
"...Fieldwork's rough as expected. Now that I'm getting older, running around is no easy thing."
"You're acting like such a baby again."
"If our Chamber Master says it's whining, then I suppose it is."
Bisa Beul responded to Garasani's remark with a chuckle and turned to Gio, who ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) stood at his side.
"What did you think, Hunter Sergio?"
"More intense than I imagined."
"And?"
"Meticulous."
"Artistic, wouldn't you say?"
A happy smile spread across Bisa Beul's face.
"I'm glad I could show you how the Collector fights, son."
Through countless cursed and loyal "works," Bisa Beul commanded the battlefield. That was the reason someone with such mediocre physical strength could survive just fine even in a dungeon this dangerous.
"Seems like things are stabilizing now, so I think I'll stop here. Unless it's a critical situation, this kind of deployment actually leads to bigger losses."
"So you won't continue."
"The monster wave seems to be subsiding too... at this rate, it should be manageable without me. I've no interest in wasting valuable works."
"A collector's answer through and through."
"Of course. That's my identity."
Saying that, Bisa Beul grumbled while standing next to his bodyguard, "Hunter Sergio."
"Tch, if only my vision were a little better, this would've gone even more smoothly."
"You're dissatisfied?"
"I think I'm getting farsighted. Even these magnificent eyes can't beat time."
"That was a funny joke."
Saying so, Gio quietly thought:
'Maybe this man is the real ghost story.'
Watching a man generate a whole collection of ghost stories in mere moments, Gio lost a bit of confidence. That dreamlike jewel cave had become a grotesque den in an instant. Even a haunted portrait like himself didn't dare make a move in this chaos.
'There seem to be some serious human rights issues here, but everyone looks way too used to it for me to say anything....'
Indeed, this was a world where human rights were ignored like breathing. That was the true horror of a generational gap.
***
"How was it, impressive, right?"
Yoo Seong-Woon, now returned in a thoroughly battered state after the battle, approached Gio with a satisfied smile.
"No one fights like the Collector."
"If there were two of you, that'd be a problem, wouldn't it?"
"That's true in many ways, but I'm sure it was interesting to watch."
"Honestly, it was a little too fascinating... made me feel strangely inadequate."
"Well... I suppose it's not quite your taste, even if it was fascinating."
Even as he said that, Yoo Seong-Woon grinned.
"But it was fun, wasn't it?"
"...."
Gio smiled, lips sealed tight. A quiet kind of stubbornness was showing.
"Oh, come on, you can be honest, you know?"
"I still possess the necessary social skills to survive human society."
"Your definition of 'social skills in human society' sounds a little too idealistic. The world isn't a textbook. It's not that pretty."
"Please don't try to implant rude and unkind common sense into me."
"Oops, yeah, I guess that's a bit dangerous."
Yoo Seong-Woon's smile remained relaxed as he spoke. Around them, the Collector staff were murmuring. The reactions were quiet enough that the Moon Sect's priests, busy tending to the aftermath, didn't hear them.
'Is that guy really okay?'
'Could Curator Yoo Seong-Woon have suffered mental contamination? That's dangerous in a dungeon like this...'
'Maybe he's finally been brainwashed by his assigned piece.'
Yoo Seong-Woon was one of the more well-known curators in the Collector's Guild—trusted with major events and missions. That someone like him would show such comfort around a piece like "Hunter Sergio"... it was hard to comprehend.
'Or maybe that is the correct response?'
'Just what kind of rules allow for that kind of behavior?'
And watching Gio, Yoo Seong-Woon, and the rest of the Collector staff like this, Bisa Beul looked pleased. The corners of his lips curved up in a very contented smile.
"...."
"You look happy."
"I never imagined I'd get to see Curator Yoo Seong-Woon like that."
"I understand what you mean."
Garasani nodded. Yoo Seong-Woon was one of Bisa Beul's more cherished works, and so he was likely enjoying the chance to see a new side of him.
It hadn't been that long since Yoo Seong-Woon began showing such sides of himself. And more importantly, aside from Sergio and Manager Joo-Hyun, he remained the same as before to everyone else. Garasani thought to himself:
'Looks like he won't get boring anytime soon.'
Yoo Seong-Woon was still far from being anything like ordinary or heroic.
Even this rare behavior in a specific context seemed to be part of what made him a "work." And since his core qualities as a Collector's piece remained, it was safe to say he wouldn't be discarded.
Peaceful as the situation seemed—for the moment—there had still been losses.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Aram silently gestured to gather the priests. Each began tending to the bodies of the fallen or offering blessings in their own way. A calm, scholarly face devoid of overt sorrow stood out.
But this was how the Moon Sect honored the sacrifices of their comrades. In a world where countless people and friends died as a matter of course, the priests expressed their sincerity not through words, but through action—and through results, not process.
They were very clearly grieving.
"...Ahem."
The Collector's members fell silent as they watched the Moon Sect priests pray for their fallen. Quietly, they helped recover the corpses so as not to interrupt.
It was clear just how intense the battle had been.
"...."
Gio, watching all this, asked Yoo Seong-Woon:
"Wasn't there a way for everyone to survive?"
"You mean if you had stepped in a bit more?"
"Yes, but..."
"Yeah. But you know as well as I do—it's better if you don't."
It wasn't just Yoo Seong-Woon's opinion. From the beginning of the operation, the stance had been that "Hunter Sergio" should refrain from participating in combat during the Garden of Pleasure raid.
That had come from the entire Collector's Guild.
"You're a special case."
"I'm unofficial special personnel, yes."
"Exactly. You're an exception."
In truth, "Hunter Sergio" was essentially an auxiliary member of the Collector, not regular staff. Of course, this was all semantics. The Collector simply knew that resolving everything through the goodwill of a non-human piece was a bad idea.
No matter how humanlike and kind a piece might be, there were limits. Or rather—no, because there were no limits, problems would inevitably arise. If humans relied on beings like that, in the end, they'd end up confined to a pleasant little zoo.
Eventually, that's how it would be.
"There's no such thing as utopia."
And there shouldn't be. Even Gio's Portrait agreed on that point.
"So even if we act a little restrictive, please bear with us."
"I am an ordinary human."
"Sure you are. But even if I generously concede that you're human, you're definitely not ordinary."
"Is this something necessary for your people as well?"
"I think I said this before we entered... but yes, obviously."
Earth truly was, objectively, a world for 'ordinary humans.' Even if it was full of corruption and treated people like parts, even if life was cheap—it was still the world they had created, the cowardly culture of their time.
That couldn't be denied. Changing the world had to be done by human hands, and so accepting reality, learning from the past, and improving the future was the right thing to do.
"Your beloved Symbols of Eternity thought the same, didn't they?"
"Yes, which is why I agreed with your opinions and limited my actions to the minimum..."
"But you don't like watching people die, do you."
"Still, since everyone else seems used to it, I was wondering if I could adapt too."
"Feels like I'm teaching you something bad. Sorry about that."
He wasn't so much sorry as terrified—but he said it anyway. Yoo Seong-Woon, with his trademark relaxed smile, gently patted Gio's shoulder as the latter stared toward the priests.
"There are things we have to handle ourselves."
"In some ways, I am the cause of this situation, am I not?"
"He would've come looking for you anyway."
"But the fact remains—I became the passage."
"I'm grateful and intrigued by how human you've become, but you don't need to take responsibility."
"You're saying that because I'm not a normal human, right?"
"Even if you were a normal human, this would still be our responsibility."
How many people had tried to summon an evil god? Cases where they succeeded were likely more common than the government and Association let on. And yet, humans had always been the ones to clean up.
No one happened to be listening in on their conversation. They were speaking quietly enough, and the surrounding noise drowned them out. After checking the surroundings, Yoo Seong-Woon continued.
"Even those called S-rank hunters—who aren't considered human—don't interfere in situations like this."
"That's only if they weren't directly responsible for the cause."
"So you feel responsible, because you think you caused this?"
"I touched it, so I should handle it."
"You didn't say any of this before we entered the dungeon... hmm."
Yoo Seong-Woon let out a laugh that was half amused, half uneasy. He'd sensed a subtle directionality from Gio.
'...Is this a wish being lured out? That's a classic method gods use to intervene in the mortal realm...'
Before he could finish the thought, Gio spoke smoothly.
"I was taught that life is precious. The world is truly frightening."
After a brief pause, Gio asked:
"...About Miss Cha Ara."
"Hm? Oh, the clown?"
"She didn't call out to me."
"Huh... true, she didn't count your 'contribution' very highly."
"But what if that contribution was related to 'reaching the answer'?"
"Well then, it would make sense that Bishop Aram was called first."
"And the gardener and food cart owner who helped us travel this far with ease."
Then Gio pointed to himself.
"In that case, why wasn't I included?"
"...Didn't you also help a lot with your 'priestly' power?"
"But she didn't call me."
"She meant you were an exception."
"So really, everyone refuses to treat me like a person."
"Um, uh, hmm... I guess..."
"I've felt it every time."
Even when Gio joined a dungeon clearing team, he never received the 'system' rewards. No congratulations, no completion messages. Gio was always an exception in this world's dungeon clear system.
But if—say—the so-called "system" was another form of "Sergio"...
"...Am I supposed to change too?"
"Why are you suddenly saying something so terrifying?"
"Mr. Zeorge wanted people to break free from the system and evolve."
"Hmm, that's true? Though, seeing how this dungeon works, I'm not sure that's a sincere goal... but anyway."
"Wouldn't that include me too?"
"...Hm?"
"I also have a system."
It was just a little different from everyone else's.
"But if I desire it, and if it happens..."
Gio blinked.
"...."
'Then what do I become?'
A haunted portrait—could I evolve beyond that?
Was that really what he meant?
***
"Hyung...."
During a rare moment of regained rest, the young priest clung to Gio's sleeve.
"...Hyung, Gio hyung...."
"Yes, I-Sol."
"Please save my sister."
"You mean Hunter Cha Ara, right?"
"...Please. I... I can do anything...."
"Why would you say something like that?"
"...."
"...Hmph."
Gio wiped the tears from the young priest's eyes.
"It's about time you grew up."
Even at twenty-nine years old, wasn't that fascinating?
People age and age—but still, the time for change comes.
-x-X-x-
I admit it.
"You're not exactly a good person."
Therefore, he wasn't a kind one either.
That's just how Sergio was. Giovanni too, and Argio. As for Zeorge, he's not even worth mentioning.
Maybe it's something common to all the "Gios," though I'm not sure. At the core, there was always something... not quite normal about them.
"Why must I be insulted along with the rest?"
"Hard to believe our uptight priest didn't know his own temper."
"As someone from an evil god, I'd prefer if you kept your mouth shut."
"Think I will, friend?"
Even from this brief exchange, it was clear—each one of them had a strong personality.
And so, Gio was reflecting on the past. He liked kind people, but he himself was not one.
He played favorites quite heavily. Separate from love, he enjoyed interesting situations. Often, he would simply find amusement in accidents or incidents.
"I think he's just insensible."
Agreed.
"He just finds joy in many things, doesn't he?"
Also agreed.
"He's just a bad person."
Agreed again.
Maybe because his thinking was too simplistic, sometimes he'd skip over thoughts that should've been obvious. Like the suffering of those he couldn't see, or the hardships and trials he would face later, or even the inevitable failures he was bound to meet.
Apparently, not everyone lived like that.
"They're just burdened with too much worry. Poor things, really."
"I think it's more because their vessels are too small to contain anything more."
Let's just admit it. Rather than saying others are lacking, it's just that these Gios are strange. If even one in a hundred people were different, they'd be called peculiar. But Gio had met well over a hundred people in his life, and not one was like him. So his peculiarity wasn't just peculiar—it was something else entirely.
So yes, he was irresponsible. A bystander. A hedonist.
"How am I any different?"
In the end, even if he was vastly different, Zeorge was still just another "Gio."
"Don't deny it."
"It's not like I did, so why are you saying it like that?"
"Ah, scary... You're really mad, huh."
"At this rate, the priest's going to become an evil god."
"Is everyone having a great time? Am I the only one who feels sorry for these poor, blameless victims, my conscience-free friends?"
"Congrats on becoming the embodiment of wrath."
And so, a thought came to him.
Maybe he shouldn't be living so much like a Gio.
"Why do you have to say such painful things...?"
"Are you discriminating because I came from an evil god?"
"I think we all got lumped in together, so it's not really discrimination."
"Ah, well, that's true."
For once, he felt a real sense of crisis.
There were many reasons for it.
Sure, he already thought the world had gone to hell. But actually seeing people he knew die like scarecrows? It turned his stomach.
And then there were the reactions from people like Yoo Seong-Woon, who, no matter how many times Gio explained things, still only saw him as human.
But there was one decisive reason among them...
...
Now that he thought about it, not a single one of these Gios had a happy ending.
Wait.
Does that mean me too?
***
"I just thought, maybe that bad ending would be this year."
"Oh."
"What do you think?"
"Oh..."
Half-awake, Yoo Seong-Woon ran a hand down his face.
"So what's the conclusion? Are you vowing to end Earth within the year?"
"Quite the opposite, actually."
"Then you do feel responsible, huh?"
"That's one of the reasons, yes."
Gio continued in a calm voice to Yoo Seong-Woon, who sat in front of him.
"I understand what you're thinking. From a curator's perspective, I'm closer to a piece of art. I'm literally a haunted portrait.
Even if some event were to happen on Earth because of me, as a 'work,' I know there's no liability or reason for me to take responsibility."
"Honestly, I don't really get why you feel so responsible either. Even if I consider you a person and not a work, you're not the one who's causing all this. It's Zeorge, right? Strictly speaking, he's the one who set it all in motion, not you."
As always, Yoo Seong-Woon wore a calm smile.
"Then isn't there no need to blame yourself?"
"I'm not blaming myself. I'm actually not very prone to that kind of thing."
"But you do think there's something here that you ought to clean up, don't you?"
"It's true that I was the passageway through which Zeorge came. And the Symbols of Eternity were my students.
If your friend starts down a twisted path, don't you feel compelled to do something?"
"See, that's the part I can't quite sympathize with."
"I consider that a pretty normal emotional response."
Reaping what you sowed was an obvious truth for Gio.
Whether he was a diligent person in daily life was irrelevant.
In a situation where people he was familiar with were dying, he couldn't help but feel a sense of duty.
"Which is why I'd like to make a proposal."
"Let's hear it, my friend."
"I want to act independently for a while. Even just briefly."
"My friend?"
Yoo Seong-Woon gave him a bitter look.
"Finally sick of me?"
"I have no idea why you say things like that. I'd really prefer you didn't."
"That dead-serious tone is scary enough to make me stop... but still, do you really have to go that far?
If you're going off on your own, I feel like things are going to get five times scarier."
"It's only a temporary separation. You can be assured, but even then, I can't promise not to cause trouble."
"Truly amazing, Gio..."
Covering his face for a moment, Yoo Seong-Woon nodded with a chuckle.
"Well, I'll leave that part to the Guildmaster."
"Aren't you passing the hardest part to Bisa Beul?"
"That's what workplace superiors are for."
"That's a little too much 'superior.'"
"Anyway, I'm your curator. And your friend too."
"That sounds exactly like you're saying you'll help just that much and no more."
"Isn't that fair? We haven't had proper conversations like this lately anyway."
With that, Yoo Seong-Woon let out a huge yawn.
Having decided to push things onto Bisa Beul, the tension drained from him.
That calm, painted-on smile from earlier was nowhere to be seen.
Rubbing his neck, Yoo Seong-Woon asked again.
"Was this fight really that shocking? I mean, before, you just seemed to go along with everything...."
Yoo Seong-Woon didn't believe that Gio had truly been shaken by the deaths of humans.
Like all mystical beings, it was probably just one of the ways they mimicked humans—putting on an act of being 'shocked.'
He likely just needed a legitimate excuse to justify some change in behavior.
But still, this reaction was different from usual.
It was a situation worth paying close attention to.
While thinking through the differences from normal, Yoo Seong-Woon asked,
"Is it because you're familiar with the Collector's employees or the priests of the Moon Sect?"
"That's part of it. I definitely feel more attachment to them than some stranger I hardly know."
"What kind of god gets this sentimental...? Hmm. I'm a little worried, to be honest."
"In what way?"
"There's no upside to a god forming attachments to humans. Not for either party."
There are exceptions, sure, like the saints.
But even that wasn't because the divine developed attachments to saints.
That was something more vast, a more merciful, encompassing kind of 'love.'
If anything, it resembled a natural disaster or a black hole.
"But someone like you, who changes due to affection for humans—that's dangerous."
For both the divine and the mortal.
Of course, in Gio's case, 'affection' wasn't quite the right word to describe how affected he was by a human's death.
Still, the fact that his behavior had shifted, even slightly, remained true.
Yoo Seong-Woon asked with slight awkwardness, but in a teasing tone,
"Are you going to say it's okay because I'm just an ordinary human again?"
"No, I understand what concerns you."
"Really? That's a relief."
"Indeed, in certain respects, I'm not ordinary."
But Gio's world always turned from his own perspective, so calling himself an 'ordinary human' was natural to him.
He knew that too.
It's just that 'that fact' didn't really matter to him.
Until now.
"It's just... I thought now was the perfect time."
"Perfect time for what?"
"Humans are constantly changing creatures, aren't they?"
"...You know, that's not exactly a very human thing to say."
"That's unfortunate."
He didn't really think he wasn't a normal human.
He was just a haunted portrait. That's all.
A minor existence, drifting through life.
He watched, he enjoyed, he stood by.
But he wasn't blind to reality.
Now that this had come into view, he had the will to act.
And because a young priest begged him to save her family.
"Ah, right...."
Yes, that was it.
"I-Sol made a wish to me."
"...Ah, fuck...."
"As an adult, shouldn't I at least try to grant it?"
"...."
Yoo Seong-Woon let out a very tired laugh.
"It's over, then."
It seemed that way.
'Maybe things could've passed by without issue.'
This was no ordinary request—it was made to the Origin.
Even if it had happened to any other 'work' under the Collector, it would've been alarming.
But for Gio's portrait to be showing signs of taking action himself? It was spine-chilling.
For beings like this, the problem wasn't how helpful or beneficial their kindness or actions were.
Their mere involvement could be a disaster.
The potential alone was enough to drive people mad.
'And in most cases, that potential does become disaster.'
So ideally, he hoped this portrait wouldn't get too emotionally invested in human affairs.
Wouldn't become too humanized.
He could think of himself as human, sure.
But once that took root... things got complicated.
'Still, things have already reached this point....'
It really felt like something he shouldn't get involved with.
"...Can you wait here for a bit? I'll go speak to the Guildmaster."
"Oh, you're going? That's faster than I expected."
"There's nothing good in delaying this sort of thing."
Leaving Gio seated where he was, Yoo Seong-Woon got up to exit the temporary tent.
Feeling a bit better, he slipped back into the coat he had taken off earlier.
"Oh, right—what if the Guildmaster says no?"
"Hmm, well...."
Gio smiled.
"I might run away."
"Good grief."
Yoo Seong-Woon laughed with him.
***
"...I suppose the final reason really was the decisive one."
Bisa Beul, who had gladly welcomed Yoo Seong-Woon's visit, stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Mystics are weak to the wishes of sentient beings, after all."
"In Cha I-Sol's case, she's technically... well, Gio's apostle of sorts."
"If things have gone that far, it'll be hard to turn the divine will around."
"That's why I came to see you, Guildmaster."
"Really now, everyone loves dumping the hard jobs on me."
Bisa Beul smirked with mock exasperation.
"You always take care of the annoying stuff anyway, so I'll let this one slide. You've gotten a bit cuter since befriending that charming portrait, Curator Yoo Seong-Woon."
"..."
"Ah... that indescribably corporate expression of yours is truly delightful."
Bisa Beul chuckled, then turned toward the blond-haired priest, Kang Seodam.
"What are your thoughts on this situation?"
"...If I need to bang my head on the floor, I will."
"Goodness, why would you say something like that?"
"...Ha..."
Kang Seodam had been wondering why he was summoned during such a rare break time—especially when everyone was resting before a proper search for the 'correct answer' began. He never imagined something this catastrophic had occurred.
He thought of Cha I-Sol, the priest-in-training who had dashed off to her god, leaving his line of sight.
'Her face didn't look good, now that I think of it.'
He understood. Cha I-Sol was young. Her attachment to her family ran deep. She'd suffered greatly in a dungeon she never should've been in to begin with. And now she'd witnessed her family turning into a monster—or something even worse.
Kang Seodam held back another sigh that threatened to escape. He had to take responsibility.
"First, let me apologize."
"That's really not necessary. I know you've been attentive to Cha I-Sol. You've done all you could. If the trainee made a rash decision despite that, what more can you do?"
"...As you likely know, a trainee's rash behavior often points to a failure in their priest's care. I would appreciate the chance to take responsibility."
He could've made plenty of excuses for why he'd missed the signs, but in the end, they were just that—excuses. There was no justifying the fact that the divine had already been moved in both heart and action.
'At least it's a divine who understands humans.'
But that alone wasn't enough to bring peace of mind.
"...I heard Hunter Sergio wishes to act independently. Could you tell me more about what that entails? If possible, I'd like to accompany him, even partially, to shoulder some of the responsibility..."
"I haven't heard any specifics."
Yoo Seong-Woon shook his head.
"I don't even know exactly what he wants. Sorry. I woke up startled and rushed here for an emergency meeting. For now, he'll stay put until you give your decision, so that much is something to be grateful for."
"...I see."
"But judging from what he said, I don't think he plans to take anyone along. As a priest, you probably know this already, but being among humans imposes a lot of restrictions—due to attention, due to faith. He probably just wants to move freely."
"..."
Kang Seodam held back another sigh.
'Didn't she learn not to casually make wishes to a divine being?'
Especially when the person was particularly beloved by the divine or held a high rank within their holy power—those cases were especially dangerous. The odds of a divine responding to such a wish were far higher.
Of course, Cha I-Sol would've known this too. Kang Seodam had warned her repeatedly, considering her unique circumstances.
So she had to have known—if she did something like this, there would be consequences. Possibly enormous ones she herself couldn't handle.
Cha I-Sol was a gentle yet perceptive, intelligent student.
'...At least she's better than that bastard evil god, probably.'
Compared to the nuisance still whispering at his ear, Cha I-Sol—who made a heartfelt wish to her kind god—was a thousand times better.
Kang Seodam decided to find comfort in that.
Brushing the corner of his mouth, he looked over at Bisa Beul.
"What are your thoughts, Guildmaster Bisa Beul?"
"If we don't want to earn Hunter Sergio's resentment, we should probably allow it."
"There might be room to negotiate on other aspects, like in any divine contract..."
"That depends on his goals. Better to hear what Hunter Sergio wants first."
Bisa Beul turned toward Yoo Seong-Woon.
"Could you summon Hunter Sergio and the trainee priests for us?"
The sight of the situation growing ever more complex was... amusing to Bisa Beul, who smiled.
***
At that same time.
"...Ah."
Left alone in the makeshift quarters, Gio sat quietly, when a sudden thought occurred.
'Am I... a problem child?'
Now that he thought about it, asking for independent action in a military-like organization like this—
Wasn't that... kind of insane?
-x-X-x-
To begin with the conclusion—
"..."
Gio set out alone on a solitary journey.
"Haaaah..."
"Wow, I didn't expect your face to look that bad."
"...Do you know how it feels to be a curator who's just sent off his own piece?"
"Well, I'm a collector, so of course I do, Curator Yoo Seong-Woon."
"You're not a curator, Guildmaster..."
Yoo Seong-Woon was in a terrible mood.
To leave something like 'Gio's Portrait'—his own piece—alone in this vast garden felt like an omen too disturbing to put into words.
Bisa Beul gave him that characteristic sly smile.
"If you keep looking like that, our Moon Sect priests might start giving you odd looks. Are you okay with that?"
"I'm already getting those looks."
"Well, it has become quite the famous rumor."
"To be fair, it's not exactly false to say I've been keeping him locked up."
The so-called "Sergio Hunter Imprisonment Rumor" was an open secret among hunters. People didn't talk about it openly, but everyone seemed to think, 'Well, he's a collector, so of course he'd do that.'
Given Yoo Seong-Woon's usual behavior, and how little the truth actually deviated, he couldn't even be mad about it.
He rubbed his empty side absently and looked at Bisa Beul.
"So... shall we get started?"
"Sounds good. The Moon Sect seems ready too."
"Yeah... we'd better get something done while Gio's away."
After the battle with the clowns, the mystic particles had warped, and the terrain had changed.
Even though they'd been investigating during rest breaks, the "Answer" still hadn't shown itself.
It was strange, honestly.
The Moon Sect had pinpointed this exact location as the singularity point where the mystic particles spiked.
And yet when they tried to find it—it was nowhere to be seen.
Even if the particle flow had been twisted, it should still be somewhere nearby.
Still, the clown had clearly said the object that matched the "Answer" was here.
The Moon Sect had hypothesized that perhaps the clown had twisted the particle flow itself.
Thinking of that, Yoo Seong-Woon rubbed his neck.
"At the very least, we need that kind of minimum result, right? Otherwise, we'll look like helpless kids dumped by the water's edge."
"You're really going to compare the mercy of the Origin to a baby left at the river?"
"Well, the context is similar, right? Even if the scale's a bit different."
Still... it left him feeling uneasy.
'What's really bothering me is that this time, the portrait's behavior patterns clearly changed.'
If humans didn't show initiative and results, Gio's portrait might come to believe {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} that humans were creatures meant to be managed.
But no matter how ideal the utopia—nobody wants to be livestock in a pen.
'Not that he'd ever admit to thinking that, of course.'
That's just how it would look from the Origin's perspective.
And now, the Apostles of Color were starting to be observed on Earth.
Especially the "Sky Blue" Apostle—it was showing up far too frequently.
Before the Earth ended up in Gio's hands, humans needed to handle things properly themselves.
Right now, the Apostles were just watching and offering trivial help.
But if something went wrong, everything could spiral.
"Let's see..."
With his usual calm smile, Yoo Seong-Woon looked out over the garden.
Thanks to the intense battle, its already-complex structure had become even more chaotic.
Even a quick glance showed it was more tangled than an anthill.
He pressed his lips together.
It might have been ravaged, but it was still a dreamlike and beautiful cavern.
Still, a different kind of unease crept in now.
"Was there ever an end to the 'Gem's Waterway'?"
"If I'm not senile yet, I've never heard of such a report."
"Hah... we're so screwed."
The blessing of overtime never seemed to end.
***
Meanwhile, Gio's situation—
"At least it looks like I'm not being treated like a total problem child. That's a relief, isn't it?"
"Grrruuuk!"
"Let's hope this strategy actually works."
He was peacefully walking across the garden.
From Gio's perspective, there were two main causes for the catastrophic mess they were in right now.
First, Zeorge.
Second, his disciples.
Neither of which he could say had no connection to him.
"Ha-ha, what troublesome friends I have."
So they say: you have to choose your friends wisely.
And if you looked at it broadly, the garden with legs and the emotionally stunted disciples were all, technically, his friends.
Yoo Seong-Woon hadn't been wrong when he said, 'It's not your fault, so why feel responsible?'
Still, Gio's conscience prickled—just faintly.
Because he did know them.
"At any rate, if I go in together with the Collector, we should be able to close in from both sides. That'll help clean things up, don't you think?"
"Gng?"
"Why do you sound so unconvinced, my son?"
So, Gio decided to go for a simultaneous approach.
As a sturdy portrait, he wasn't about to die just by diving into a painting he'd made himself.
It made mobility simple.
Aram, who didn't know the situation, had been baffled at first.
But once the Collector firmly said, 'Ah, it's fine,' she had more or less convinced herself somehow...
"I wonder what she even told herself to make it make sense."
"Grruk."
"Her eyes were oddly sympathetic, and yet kind of reverent. I can still see them clearly."
"Gng?"
"No matter where I go, I always get that kind of look. Is that my problem...?"
Giovanni gave a bitter smile.
'Anyway, no way I could just sit around doing nothing right now.'
Until just recently, he had been rather close to letting his dear hyung Yoo Seong-Woon talk him into staying put.
But when he saw I-Sol sniffling like that, he couldn't help but feel a sense of adult responsibility.
Even like this, he was still a teacher-turned-portrait with a soft spot for kids.
"...I hope I bump into someone soon."
Gio tilted his head and smiled.
"Don't you think so, Aria?"
SPLASH—!
From within the seawater, a dark silhouette fluttered grandly.
"...Looks like a giant whale."
Somewhere within the ever-shifting layout of the Garden of Pleasure, Gio stood under a clear sky, in a vast expanse of deep ocean.
This small dungeon, themed around personal vulnerabilities, seemed—at the moment—to be reflecting "Giovanni."
But it felt a little different.
"Unlike other people's dungeons, this one doesn't seem to need conquering. I've just been walking, and already I can see the end.
Or maybe... walking together with you two was the condition for clearing it?"
When Giovanni looked up at the sky, clouds bloomed and spread across the clear expanse.
They became a sunset tinged with iridescent light, and within moments, transformed into a star-filled night sky.
"No matter how 'sky blue' you are, this is a bit much, don't you think?"
"Grrruuuk..."
"Hm, true. If this is a dungeon, maybe you could even pluck one of those stars?"
Honey, who loved shiny things, stared at a bright star with greedy eyes.
From the Gem's Waterway to now, it seemed a bit of sparkle had calmed her down considerably.
"Let's see what's next."
Next was a forest tainted by poison.
"Ah, of course. Now we're here."
"Grrk?"
"Good thing we didn't bring anyone along, right?"
Gio let out a sigh and shifted his color.
Giovanni had a fairly strong build for a priest, but this kind of environment was still better suited to Argio.
It even resembled his homeland a little.
"When I was around others, this part never showed. I wonder what I'm thinking."
He lightly scratched his neck and moved forward.
The mermaid who had been following as a shadow from the depths of the sea splashed her tail once on land, then disappeared.
Most likely, she had slipped into his dark shadow.
In the space lined with countless trees, Gio easily spotted his friend.
"It's been a while for you, too."
The multicolored bark of the trees bore patterns like deer antlers.
They were still and yet unmistakably alive.
Argio strolled among them, whispering with genuine fondness.
"Haven't seen you in a while—were you too embarrassed to show yourself?"
"Gng..."
"Don't be like that. At least these friends aren't illusions."
He calmed Honey, who had started bristling.
There were so many things to be excited about that it was hard to distinguish reality, but these were genuinely friends from Gio's Palette.
They hadn't been made in this garden.
"So then, next must be Zeorge's world?"
Surprisingly, it wasn't.
"Conscience-free showoff, aren't you."
"GrrruuuuuUUUK!!"
"Okay, okay, no need to shout all of a sudden."
From the looks of it, this world reflected "Sergio."
"...At this point..."
With a blank expression, Gio blinked twice.
"I think I know who I'm about to run into."
If the pattern held, it was Zeorge's turn next.
But that bastard, who chews what's sweet and spits what's bitter, probably wasn't going to appear so straightforwardly.
So Gio shifted into a familiar form.
And sure enough, met a familiar face.
"Haera."
"..."
A quiet cabin in the forest.
"You're soaked in blood."
"..."
"You're making a strange face."
From within that familiar portrait, Gio asked Haera,
"You're not going to say anything?"
"...Hunter Sergio."
"Yes. I'm Sergio."
"If I called you teacher, what would that mean?"
"Then I'd be your teacher."
As if that were the most obvious thing in the world.
***
Dan Haera, who had sought to escape the dungeon, remained alone and witnessed many things. She could not remember them. They were stories erased from the world. And yet, the time that had once existed reflected itself into this world. Dan Haera, who had once been a model student, could not possibly fail to read those stories.
First, at school—
"..."
She saw the baptism she had received. Perhaps it was because she had been there the moment her teacher became a god. If her guess was right, Dan Haera had received a miraculous blessing on the day of the Great Catastrophe. She had awakened a mysterious power.
Her teacher was no longer human. He was merciful. He saved her. And gave her power. Dan Haera's reverence must have begun from there.
"..."
When she left the school, she arrived in a small village. A place with empty houses, a child's clothing left behind, a photograph of an old man and a child. A calm, peaceful village where only gentle souls remained...
"..."
And among it, new traces carved by youth. A photograph of someone whose face had been erased, placed right next to the old man and child's. Dan Haera and her friends stood together in it. So that's what it was. They had fled the school and come here. Perhaps, in some way, they had found peace here.
"..."
But they must have known that their teacher was a god. Having been thrown into the wild before even graduating, the students had hoped for everything from their teacher: absolute support, eternal safety, perfect protection, exclusive favoritism, and in the end—
"...Baptism?"
They had desired the same blessing Dan Haera had received.
"Interesting."
Though it wasn't all that amusing.
"From the start... Jeong Hae-Woon left the fewest traces. So there was a reason you were chosen."
As time passed, clever students—and others—started to notice something. Unlike ordinary Awakened, Dan Haera's power wasn't something innate that she had "discovered"—it was something she had "received."
Or perhaps not even received—perhaps she had been tainted by it. Dan Haera could feel that she was connected to her teacher. And maybe that was why she revered him as a god. Maybe.
And then, after that—
"You never went to the city, did you."
No matter how far she walked, the background didn't change. Was it the students' desperate attempt to avoid losing their beloved "teacher"? Or was it simply the preference of the teacher himself, who disliked noise and crowds? The buildings and scenery changed little by little, but in the end, she remained in the middle of a quiet natural world.
But the traces left behind raised a question within Dan Haera.
"...Did you have an opinion at all?"
They say gods and heroes are created by humans. And in all contexts, that statement holds true. It seemed to be the case even now. It was likely true back then too. Though he required food and sleep, though he bled warm blood, the "teacher" gradually began to be treated as something closer to a god.
And perhaps he truly was. The astonishing traces he left behind showed he had surpassed the limits of humanity—not just in terms of power, but in the way he thought.
"Despite being human."
And just when she tried to think of him as a god, her eyes fell on a simple birthday letter. Apparently, the god of her students had personally written them birthday notes each year. Had he also baked them cakes? What kind of domestic god does that?
"Was he human?"
At the very least, he seemed like someone who wished to remain one.
"..."
And he seemed like someone worthy of that.
But to the students, he would always have been a god. And to those who followed the students with such outstanding ability, he was likely the same. No—perhaps they'd even tried to fully elevate him to the realm of gods, despite his desire to stay human.
There are many cases where something becomes a god solely through human faith.
"..."
Did they try to build a new world with a new god?
"..."
One who cherished and favored them above all?
"...They deserved divine punishment for that."
And perhaps they received it.
Dan Haera's steps finally stopped before a pool of blood. Even for the president of the Association, it was hard to believe this had come from a human. Shallow, yet spread wide—blood soaked the ground. In the middle lay a straw doll.
"Ha."
Why was it so shredded?
Even if a beast had chewed it apart, it wouldn't look like this. It was a faceless doll, and yet the gruesomeness of it was painfully clear. Dan Haera stepped into the blood.
Before she realized it, she found herself praying. Please... don't let it be that we did this. Don't let it be that we turned someone into this mess with something less than what a beast would do.
Please. Please. Please...
"...It's lukewarm..."
Kneeling in blood as warm as bathwater on a summer day, Dan Haera buried her face in her hands.
"..."
It was cowardly—but she felt relief.
It wasn't us.
At the very least, it wasn't the four students who had made him end up like this.
No matter what they might've done later, the evidence left behind pointed to far too many culprits. At least thirty. That alone was absurd. It made her want to laugh, but even that didn't come.
"Doesn't it seem a bit excessive for divine punishment to leave him in such a pitiful state?"
And the worst part was—it wasn't even him who should've received the punishment.
"He seemed like a good person."
Dan Haera laid herself atop the lukewarm doll.
"He was a good person."
He wasn't someone who deserved to die like this. No. He really wasn't.
"..."
They say if you eat a god, you gain power and immortality. That he was the cause of the Great Catastrophe. That the world could be restored only if a sacrifice of his scale was made. People whispered these things.
And so, they grew more eager. They needed to hide him. They wanted their god—who only loved them—to exist in this new world. They worked so hard to keep him from being tainted, to separate him from the rest of humanity.
Maybe that was what led to their downfall.
"..."
People stormed in. They tried to kill him. To devour him.
And in the face of humanity's ugliness and his compassion, they nearly succeeded. By the time the foolish disciples tried to salvage what they could, he was already like this. Already reduced to this.
They had tried to make their teacher the god of a new age. They had almost succeeded. And yet, because the one who was meant to become god had died, the world had begun to teeter. Fate and mystery spiraled into chaos.
"..."
There had been two choices.
Let him die as a human and let Earth collapse.
Or turn him into Earth's god and let humanity continue.
"..."
If the former had been chosen, Earth would've become a new dungeon and drifted through the cosmos. But with the latter, at least the humans would've had a future.
"..."
Jeong Hae-Woon had been disgusted by those two options.
Now that she thought about it, he had shown signs of hesitation throughout. He rarely took full part, always seemed to keep one foot out. He'd wanted things, sure—but not more than he cared about his teacher.
Jeong Hae-Woon had been the only one who opposed the "consumption."
But they were bound by fate. And he had loved his friends. So of course he lost.
"...So that's why..."
That's why he made that promise.
"You made them forget."
Why?
She knew why.
Because without erasing everything related to "the teacher," Earth couldn't be saved.
But... was that really the only reason?
Wasn't it also just a way to run away?
"Why..."
Dan Haera let out a hollow laugh as she lay atop the shredded doll. Her eyes stung. Her head hurt. Her throat felt dry. She wanted to clench her fists, but the doll was so fragile she couldn't even do that.
Why had they gone this far?
"...We shouldn't have..."
We shouldn't have seen you as a god.
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
Ah... Teacher.
"..."
Having reached a dead end, she drank from the lukewarm blood—
—and a door in a room opened.
"..."
A calmness so unnatural it felt alien.
Inside, a room filled with the teacher's traces.
A single portrait stood as if waiting for her.
Dan Haera silently approached it and reached out.
The man within, pale as a corpse, gently took her hand.
And pulled her inside.
***
"..."
"Haera."
A quiet cabin in the woods.
"You're covered in blood."
"..."
"You're making a strange face."
From within that familiar "portrait," the teacher asked his student,
"You're not going to speak?"
"...Hunter Sergio."
"Yes. I'm Sergio."
"If I called you 'teacher,' then what?"
"Then I'd be your teacher."
"..."
As if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
"..."
Why?
How...?
***
"..."
"Grandfather? What is it?"
"...On the canvas..."
"Pardon?"
"Let it be painted... upon the canvas..."
The first to speak was an old man—a senile elder who still held first-class citizenship.
"Our god has returned."
He mumbled from his bed.
Let it be painted... upon the canvas...