The Artist Who Paints Dungeon

Chapter 142

Jio was not hurt by the fact that people were afraid of him.

‘They have a right to be scared.’

Even before the Great Catastrophe, there were many people who were afraid of Seo Jio.

His facial muscles, as if devolved all by themselves, did not know how to smile, and because he did not particularly enjoy social activities, his range of activities was narrow.

On top of that, Jio, who was particularly fussy about etiquette, was in many ways a difficult person to build a casual friendship with.

Perhaps for that reason, people who were afraid of him would appear every now and then, just when he thought it had been a while.

‘They said my atmosphere was scary….’

Always expressionless, tall as a beanpole, and the clothes he wore were always a black suit.

‘Black is such a convenient color to wear.’

It was a choice that considered convenience in addition to personal taste, but more than a few people were intimidated by Jio's appearance.

He himself was aware that he did not have an approachable impression.

“…….”

But seeing them this scared made even Jio feel distraught.

“Are we almost there?”

“I am sorry to have caused you discomfort.”

“There's no need to be sorry.”

Was there really any need to react with such fright to a simple question of ‘How far have we come?’.

The priest guiding him hadn't made a fuss, but his stiff gait and slightly trembling pitch revealed his fear.

Giovanni thought to himself.

‘This really seems to be a nuisance.’

He really hated it.

‘The Collectors' staff were just openly startled, so I could at least laugh it off….’

Even if it was the same fear, the texture was different.

The people at the Collectors were resilient, and above all, they seemed to have adapted well to the existence of Jio.

It seemed to be because only indifferent and composed people had gathered there.

But the emotion the priest guiding him now was feeling was real, genuine fear.

‘I didn't know he'd be this scared.’

And yet, seeing him do his best to treat him as a guest twisted the disposition of Jio, who could only be satisfied by returning a kindness received fivefold.

“…….”

“It is just ahead.”

“I see.”

To the priest who had stopped in front of a huge gate, Jio expressed his gratitude.

“Thank you.”

“…The honor was all mine.”

The priest bowed his head deeply.

“Please do not hold it against us for following our Father's words.”

“I have come as a priest who wishes to pray and as a single visitor, so you need not worry.”

“Your words lighten the heart of this humble priest.”

At that, Jio asked.

“If you don't mind, would you accept my humble gift?”

“…A gift, you say?”

“Do you enjoy sweets, Priest?”

“Sweets… Yes, I like them.”

“What I am giving you is a small gift and a token of my gratitude.”

Jio handed over Dried fruit snacks , beautifully wrapped in Hanji (traditional Korean paper).

“It is sun-dried fruit.”

“Ah….”

“You may eat it, or you may not.”

And then he added.

“Just do not fear me.”

Because I feel too sorry.

“Will you do that for me?”

“…I will not forget the warm grace bestowed by the divinity.”

“Please do not think of it so grandly.”

Ah, please don't do that.

‘Why is he being like that?’

To be honest, it felt like he might cry a little.

Every single word was truly burdensome.

If he were just treated like a ghost story or a monster, he could laugh it off as funny, but being treated so reverently while being feared was very baffling for Jio.

What on earth was bestowed, and what was this grace?

He didn't want to be treated as if his grace was immeasurable over a single piece of dried fruit.

He wanted the priest to understand the desperation contained in his bribe.

“I hope your expression is more comfortable than now when I come next time.”

Thinking that clinging any more than this would be impolite, Jio backed off at this point.

It was a fact that he looked scary, and it was natural to be scared of something scary, so it was not polite to keep whining not to be scared of someone he had just met.

“…….”

Thinking this way made him miss Mr. Ju-hyeon, who was probably resting at home.

‘Let's become friends quickly.’

My prospective pen pal, who is kind and well-mannered, and isn't afraid of a haunted portrait.

He wasn't very sociable to begin with, but after becoming a ghost story, more people became afraid of him, which was a bit troublesome.

It had become too difficult to make friends.

“Should I open the door and go in?”

“If you stand in front, I will ring the bell for the gatekeeper.”

“Understood.”

Clang─.

The priest rang a white, shining bell.

“…….”

The door opened smoothly without a single noise.

‘…The intro to a horror movie?’

A door opening without a sound in a dark and huge temple was quite novel, like a haunted mansion.

‘But if it's a horror concept, I, the haunted portrait, won't lose either.’

Jio thought that if he ever had to build a temple in the future, he would definitely have to implement this system after getting permission for the copyright.

It seemed his public image was leaning towards a ghost story, so there was much to learn.

‘By the way, is it too rude to compare an elder I don't even know to a ghost on the same level?’

To Jio, the God of Death seemed to be on the same level as the Sun God, the teddy bear's father.

Having already experienced the Sun God once, the perception that ‘god = elderly person living alone’ was already embedded in his brain.

He confidently entered through the door where not a single speck of light came in.

It seemed that the elder of this house was also living a very lonely and desolate life, and Jio was confident in his ability to be charming to such a person.

“…Hmm.”

A black and transparent waterway, colored by darkness, that was spread shallowly across the entire floor and flowed gently.

The huge door closed without a sound, and soon, a pure white lantern lit up not too far away.

“Are you the bishop of this place?”

“Please lower your speech, O nameless divinity.”

The one who opened her mouth was a woman dressed in a Hanbok as voluminous as a peony.

“Thank you for tolerating our rudeness. May I understand your personal visit here as you accept the invitation of the Father of this place?”

“Of course.”

“I am Eun-ryeong, the one in charge of managing this place, though I am lacking. If you need anything, please call me at any time, I shall remain within this room.”

The bishop placed the lantern she was holding on the floor, and then quietly retreated and disappeared into the darkness.

Dressed in a jet-black Hanbok and with her face covered by a jet-black neoul (traditional Korean head covering), the bishop quickly blended into the darkness and vanished.

Only then did Jio realize who he had to talk to.

“Aha.”

He lifted his head and looked into the darkness.

“I didn't think you would already be here.”

Then, a moist sound was heard from within the darkness.

“I see the death of Earth.”

“…You….”

Between the small but bright lanterns, ‘Death’ showed its face.

“You have been… good… to my children….”

It was a huge existence, as if one with the darkness.

Its face resembled an old tree that had maintained its steadfastness for a long time, and from the large and small cracks that had opened up, a pure white light, resembling the lantern, seeped out.

It had countless, very long and thin arms, and its lower body, visible in the lantern light, resembled a jet-black river and was stretched out very long.

A body spread out like a spider web and the black silk enveloping it. Jio realized that this entire room was created by the incarnation of Death.

“What a magnificent appearance.”

He admired.

“You are a river and a tree.”

“Is that… how I appeared….”

“What I am stepping on is your knee, and what I see is a mountain made of arms.”

“…You… are very… favorable… to me….”

“Is there a reason not to be?”

Jio liked elders.

“I came here today to ask about the evil gods.”

“…Is that so….”

“Will you tell me why you called me?”

“I… you….”

The voice of Death was as immense as the echo of a cave.

“Saw.”

And it was silent.

“You are in sin, but you are not a sinner.”

“You are similar to providence, but you are not that either.”

“You cannot be called a hero for your wickedness, so….”

With a mouth hanging in mid-air, Death defined Argio.

“You who devoted your body, why are you in hell?”

He said.

“You are accused of being a sinner, but you are not a sinner, you refuse to enjoy peace within providence, and though you are a divinity that covets blood and riches, you were once a hero. I find you lovely. That soul is pitiful.”

“…….”

“You wish to be blamed, but it will not be easy. You wish to remain in pleasure with a clouded mind, but abundance and peace will stay by your side, and you wish to be remembered as a vain ghost, but you will remain as a master of history.”

Death asked.

“Who are you?”

It was a pure question filled with inquiry.

“Have you already decided?”

“…….”

And Jio.

“……?”

Was dumbfounded.

“I am human.”

“I see, you have decided so.”

“No, I was just human from the beginning.”

“I understand….”

“Elder, please listen to me.”

Jio felt a bit wronged.

“I admit that I am a slightly unusual case, but that doesn't mean I'm not human.”

There's a person who flies around with crow wings the size of a house on their back, there's a person whose eyes are slit like a reptile's and sparkle, and there's a person who is so strong and immortal that they can sway the world with a single snort, and they are all human.

Why can't I be?

“This is discrimination.”

“Discrimination….”

“The diversity of humanity can easily embrace even a peculiar person like me.”

“It would… embrace you well, I'm sure….”

“I'm not saying it embraces me, I'm saying I was originally within it.”

“I will hear it as such….”

It felt like it was sighing for some reason.

Jio felt even more wronged.

Humanity's diversity had become so vast, so why was a haunted portrait not treated as a human?

Whether uninterested in Jio's sense of injustice, or having no will to debate, the mouths hanging in the air from the God of Death, who seemed to have reached its own conclusion, muttered incessantly.

“How pitiful.”

“That devotion and affection are lovely.”

“Your broad bosom is higher than the mountains and deeper than the river.”

“Breathing within your bosom.”

“Sleeping within your bosom.”

“Life and death are within it.”

“And yet you say you are human.”

“You will love without end.”

“You will give without end.”

“Will there be an end for you?”

“There is only a beginning.”

“For you….”

Among the numerous voices that resembled fog, whispering as if in a secluded mountain valley, only one continued.

“There is no death.”

“…….”

Jio thought.

‘…Gods of heaven and earth, am I now walking the path of the biographies of extraordinary people.’

To suddenly receive confirmation of his immortality.

‘As expected, I'm amazing.’

It was a fact he had vaguely accepted since he acknowledged he had become a portrait, but it seemed that Jio could no longer be called ordinary.

Today, his self-esteem rose to another level.

It felt like it could stop rising soon, but the only human who could have pointed that out, Seo Jio's grandmother, had already passed away. It was a deplorable matter for Yu Seong-un and for all of mankind.

“…….”

Jio soon came to a conclusion.

“…I must make a great many friends.”

That would be enough.

“Then I will never be bored in my entire life.”

“…Yes….”

“May I visit you from time to time? I will prepare a meal for you.”

“A meal… you say….”

“If there is no death for me, can we not become friends without farewell?”

“…Friend….”

The jet-black room made of death echoed roundly.

“That sounds good.”

Jio recognized it as laughter.

“Come often, young friend.”

“Thank you.”

“I await your gift.”

And so, Jio's number of friends increased.

Ta-da.

***

“Oh, really?”

Yu Seong-un, who was waiting in the prayer room, asked.

“So, as long as they're not scared of you, they're all your friends?”

“I do have a wish that they would be kind and polite people, if possible.”

“Right, all the kind and polite beings who aren't afraid of you.”

“In that case, I see no reason not to befriend them.”

“I see….”

Yu Seong-un nodded.

“You called him an elder, so I didn't think you'd go as far as becoming friends.”

“He didn't seem as old and lonely as I thought….”

“Is that ‘old and lonely’ person you're talking about based on your father?”

“He was quite lonely until I started visiting him.”

“First of all, I'm not sure how you can define an intangible being like a god as being in a state of ‘old’ or ‘lonely’.”

“It's just… can't you just tell by looking? The God of Death didn't seem particularly lonely. He has a lot of family, too.”

“…….”

That part was slightly interesting.

Yu Seong-un's bad habit stealthily raised its head and expressed curiosity.

He asked.

“Then what state did the God of Death appear to be into your eyes?”

He was curious about the world Jio saw.

“You said he didn't seem lonely, for one.”

“Hmm… in human terms, about middle-aged….”

“Middle-aged. And?”

“Very accepting….”

After pondering for a moment, Jio continued.

“A case of Laziness?”

“…….”

“It felt like if you pushed for it, as long as it wasn't something foolish, he'd accept it.”

“Uh….”

“Above all, he seemed to hate leaving his room.”

“…Uh, that….”

“I think we'll get along well.”

“…I see.”

Yu Seong-un nodded.

“If you say so, I guess it's so.”

Hmm, right. I see.

It seems it's still a domain that's difficult for humans to understand.