The Artist Who Paints Dungeon
Chapter 170

“...Do you know what my first thought was when I heard about that?”

Yoo Seong-Woon raised both thumbs enthusiastically.

“Wow, that’s amazing. How the hell did he pull it off?”

“You flatter me.”

“I’m not flattering you—I genuinely thought that.”

The hallway meeting at exactly noon was revived just before Yoo Seong-Woon worked himself into the grave. As usual, it was not so much a meeting as it was an informal gathering—with Gio’s special tea and a spread of snacks.

Joo-Hyun, watching Yoo Seong-Woon’s worn-out appearance with pity, cleared her throat.

“Ahem, Gio turned out to be more sociable than I expected.”

“If he’s so sociable, why was he always so desperate to scare people?”

At Yoo Seong-Woon’s pure and snow-white question, the portrait of the Black Cloak replied:

“I did not scare them. They frightened themselves.”

“Wow, look at you, your vocabulary really improved. ‘Frightened themselves’? What kind of expression is that?”

“I mean to say I am innocent.”

“No matter how I think about it, it still doesn’t make sense.”

Massaging his stiff neck, Yoo Seong-Woon asked:

“How did you create such a warm and cheerful atmosphere?”

Logically, it should’ve been impossible.

Gio possessed an inherent gravitas. No matter how well he concealed it, humans instinctively sensed the gap in class—and with Gio, it was the kind of gap that inspired fear. A chilling kind.

“People must’ve been terrified of you.”

“They were indeed very frightened. So, I worked very hard.”

“I find it so bizarre that you could just work hard and overcome that.”

“I’m fortunate to have at least that much social ability.”

“No, I don’t think it was even about your social skills, more like... um...”

To be honest, if we were comparing the Portrait of Gio to a human, it wouldn’t be fair to say he lacked social skills. If anything, he had an indifferent nature that bordered on detached, but he was fundamentally kind and generous to humans.

‘He’s excessively formal, and people get scared during interactions because of that.’

Still, it felt a bit awkward to say it that bluntly.

“...You do look kind of scary, though.”

“I agree.”

Gio nodded sincerely.

“There have always been a significant number of people who found me frightening.”

To that, Joo-Hyun tilted her head.

“Always? Then even as Giovanni, were people afraid of you?”

“Yes, many were afraid of me then, too.”

“But Giovanni didn’t seem to have an intimidating aura...”

“More accurately, they were preemptively uncomfortable. Fearful in advance.”

Though Giovanni had the air of a warm and kind priest, his dignified posture and priestly authority made many unable to treat him as an equal.

“And I was blonde back then.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It was a world where children born with the color of the sun were rumored to be divine offspring.”

“Divine offspring, huh...”

“And in my case, I truly was a priest of the sun. That must’ve made it heavier.”

He was a renowned priest, called a saint. For people of that era, when the Church of the Sun ruled society, treating someone like that as an equal simply wasn’t possible.

“I don’t recall doing anything especially frightening, but still, they were afraid.”

“I heard from Iser that you were known as the ‘Smiling Tyrant of the Sea Village.’”

“......”

The portrait shifted to platinum-blonde.

“...Iser said that? When?”

“During the lamb skewer night. Just random chatting.”

“I swear, this is slander. Why would I be a tyrant?”

“They said if someone didn’t accept your mercy willingly, you’d force it upon them...”

“The results were good, so I’d say it was justified.”

“Ah, I see. That explains why people feared Giovanni too.”

“I’m telling you, it’s unfair.”

At Gio’s earnest protest, Yoo Seong-Woon smiled in his usual unbothered way.

“Maybe it was closer to reverence than fear.”

“Oh, yeah. If I had a neighbor like Giovanni, I don’t think I’d have treated him casually either.”

Joo-Hyun nodded in agreement.

“He gives off a vibe that’s hard to approach casually.”

The portrait appeared wronged again.

“I’d appreciate it if people were friendly with me.”

“We’re already friendly with you, but it’s hard for strangers to be the same.”

At least when he was the cheerful and bright Giovanni, people’s feelings stopped at reverence. But as Sergio—with seemingly paralyzed facial muscles—or the bloodthirsty Argio, what people felt was unmistakable fear.

Yoo Seong-Woon, having heard about Sergio’s latest appearance through Joo-Hyun, asked:

“So even as Sergio, people were afraid of you? It’s not like you were performing miracles like Giovanni or thirsty for blood like Argio...”

“Yes, I was just an ordinary teacher.”

“Well, not that ordinary. You’re glossing over that part a little too easily.”

“It’s unjust.”

The portrait had returned to black hair.

“I simply had a scary face.”

“With a face that handsome? That’s kind of impressive in its own right...”

“I was always a kind and helpful teacher.”

“So, it wasn’t your behavior but your presence. Though... that probably didn’t help either.”

And that wasn’t a problem that could be fixed with a simple “that’s unfair.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Even when you were a ‘regular teacher,’ people were afraid of you.”

Yoo Seong-Woon recalled what he’d heard from the 5th Floor Chamber Master earlier—about the meeting room.

“How did someone like that create such a harmonious atmosphere?”

“As I’ve said, I just tried really hard.”

Gio did possess that much sociability.

“There were many who struggled to connect with me because of my intimidating presence, but in the end, we always parted on good terms. If people fear me, all I have to do is dissolve that fear.”

Yoo Seong-Woon admired him for that.

“Then why don’t you do that all the time?”

“It’s tiring.”

“Huh?”

“The return on investment is unclear.”

“So you’re saying it’s not worth the effort?”

“Exactly.”

If he had to work with someone or see them regularly, Gio would pour in the effort. But for people he’d only pass by once, he saw no reason to waste precious energy convincing them.

“My basic presence is frightening, after all.”

The more naturally Gio interacted, the harder it was for others to break free from their fear. But on the flip side, when he did make an effort, people had no reason to fear him at all.

“......”

“......”

And so, Yoo Seong-Woon and Joo-Hyun thought:

‘...It’s true. Making someone of that class feel approachable can’t be done without immense effort. That’s not mercy you can offer just anyone.’

‘To have to try that hard just to stand on equal footing with ordinary humans—that alone proves he isn’t one of us...’

Yoo Seong-Woon, as a gardener and curator, understood the weariness of the work. Joo-Hyun, as a friend, saw through Gio’s contradictions. At the very least, neither of them considered him fully human.

Gio, for his part, noticed their thoughts.

‘Doesn’t anyone see that I’m just a socially awkward introvert with a scary face...?’

The scary face was his default. And in order to reassure others and loosen their fear, Gio had to burn through a lot of energy. That was the life of a spooky-looking introvert.

But the situation was so ridiculous, he decided to simply accept it. If they were going to treat him like a precious painting, he wouldn’t fight it. Gio truly wouldn’t mind living his life as a painting.

“...So I didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

“No, you didn’t. Honestly, you helped a lot.”

“I was concerned, since they’re people I’ll be working with.”

From what he’d heard from Joo-Hyun, the operation would be like a group retreat or an extended business trip. Gio didn’t want to spend that time in awkward silence.

‘Few things are more hellish than that.’

That’s why he’d put all his effort into making a good first impression, to enjoy the upcoming days in a pleasant atmosphere. Gio had really done his best to bond with his temporary coworkers.

“Though the rookie who came in last—Kim Na-Na—seemed a bit startled.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“She thought it was some kind of brainwashing, apparently.”

“She was very frightened.”

“But she warmed up to you after a bit of conversation, right?”

“It took significant effort.”

“And I get where she’s coming from.”

Yoo Seong-Woon continued with a sheepish laugh.

“To walk in and see your coworkers chatting casually and laughing with the Black Cloak like he’s an old friend? Of course she’d be creeped out. It’s surreal.”

“But in the end, she seemed more comfortable with me.”

“That’s true. She didn’t seem scared of you afterward either—which, frankly, is impressive.”

Then Yoo Seong-Woon asked with a smirk:

“You sure you didn’t actually use some brainwashing skill?”

“I’m genuinely innocent.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. But still—it’s a little suspicious.”

“Have you ever seen a painting cry?”

“I mean, I’m curious, but let’s save that for another time.”

Joo-Hyun shot Yoo Seong-Woon a look like she was staring at a complete lunatic, but he ignored it. That was just the way curators of Bisa Beul’s kind behaved. A crying painting? Now that would be a ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) rare sight.

But fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—Yoo Seong-Woon was so tired, he let it go.

“If you really managed that just with your conversational skills, it’s pretty impressive.”

“Thank you for the compliment.”

Gio felt genuinely happy to be told he was good at socializing. Timid and cautious, he felt oddly proud of himself for doing something “normal.”

“I think I knew how to respond well because I’ve dealt with this before.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just your portrait powers at work?”

“I’m not sure what ‘portrait powers’ means exactly...”

“You know, that thing—making things go the way you want just by being there.”

“Like stacking stones on a mountain trail?”

“...Kind of?”

Yoo Seong-Woon suspected that Gio’s ability to direct situations as he wished came from his Origin. He subtly altered fate.

“Well, either way, it’s still amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“You really do like being praised, huh...”

At that, Joo-Hyun chimed in with a laugh.

“He is still young, after all.”

“......”

Under Yoo Seong-Woon’s aged gaze, Joo-Hyun looked away.

“...I meant personality-wise. His personality is young.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because I feel like I said something inappropriate...”

“I can’t tell if you’re bold or shy.”

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped teasing me.”

Blushing, Joo-Hyun muttered with slight indignation.

“But isn’t Gio still pretty young? Twenty-nine, thirty-two, twenty-four...”

“Well, yeah. He did die young.”

“Stop focusing on the death—just look at how old he was while alive. He was young.”

“Sure, he died young. I know that.”

“Did you really have to say that in front of him?”

“It’s just a fact...”

Feeling oddly scolded, Yoo Seong-Woon looked toward Gio.

“I bet he’s not even bothered.”

“Ahh... If only I’d lived longer with my mermaid students...”

“Okay, so now you’re trying to make me look like the bad guy?”

“I’m kidding.”

Giovanni had no particular regrets about his short life.

“There’s even that saying—‘beautiful people die young.’”

“That confidence suits you.”

“Well, it is undeniable that I’m handsome.”

“You’re shameless in weird ways.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“Anyway, I’m glad you managed to get along with them.”

“They still seemed a little intimidated by me.”

“Oh, really? I thought the vibe was good?”

“Mm.”

Gio hesitated, then continued.

“There have been similar cases in the past.”

“What kind of cases?”

“Where people take my most sincere efforts as acts of divine mercy and end up revering me...”

“Ah, so that was you doing your very best, huh. Got it.”

To be honest, Yoo Seong-Woon had interpreted it more as divine benevolence from a great mystery than mere effort. Gio might deny it, but that was his honest take.

“......”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Are you hungry?”

“...A little, but why do you ask?”

“You seemed to be thinking strange thoughts. I wondered if it was because your stomach was empty.”

“What does that have to do with anything?!”

Even his way of being snarky somehow circled back to feeding people—Yoo Seong-Woon was amazed.

***

And so the fated day approached—a rest day before the big operation.

“Well, well, finally meeting the infamous Collector’s young master.”

“......”

“Our little master won’t cry about the food being bad in the dungeon, will he?”

Some random well-built punk was provoking Gio unilaterally.

‘He’s challenging me over food...?’

Truly, the world had no intention of understanding his delicate soul.