The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 160

And Gio had no thoughts at all.

“The Mangdung berries dried out too much again.”

“Ggng.”

“It’s all because of too much sunlight.”

How could there be three suns under one sky?

“This isn’t right.”

He was lamenting in front of the Mangdung berries that had hardened into something like gold.

“We’re just too warm.”

Giovanni, imbued with the divinity of the Sun. The teddy bear housing the former Sun God. And Honey, the light-attribute evolved waterbird, basking in their love.

With three suns of various sizes living together in the hut, it took no time for fruit to dry out.

“I need to overturn this divine power right now.”

“Ggngggng...!!”

“Gggooo...!!”

While the pig, angry at the lack of tasty treats, was held back by the waterbird and the teddy bear, Dana stretched out peacefully, washing her face like a cat. The sun-drenched, steaming warm house was nothing short of paradise to her.

Gio collapsed in the yard.

“Grandmother, I’m sorry. This potato has become a fool who can’t even dry a single fruit properly.”

“Ggoo.”

“I am a talking potato. The only thing I can do is speak. That appears to be my identity.”

“Ggoo...?”

The former Sun God was deeply confused as to why this child of the sun was calling himself a potato. His identity was far closer to the sun than a potato—and closer still to the Origin.

Gathering the hardened Mangdung berries like an old basket-carrying grandpa, Gio, having composed his sorrow, spoke:

“I’m aware I don’t really resemble a potato.”

It was something he’d admitted to himself from time to time, and he also knew he wasn’t exactly that harmless either. A real potato couldn’t turn people into paint.

“I’m more like the Ogol chicken in the yard. All pitch black...”

“Ggurrrrr.”

“You like it too since it's a bird, huh, Honey. I should try drawing a feathered cloak next time.”

Back in his Sergio days, he often dressed in all black. So if one had to draw comparisons, something completely black would make more sense.

“Maybe I’m being tempted by shiny things lately because of Argio.”

Maybe something like soot from the hearth, or a crow the size of a house. Even Gio couldn’t find much correlation between himself and a potato. And yet, the reason he couldn’t let go of the potato identity came from his childhood.

“This is all the elders’ fault.”

To the people in that remote mountain village in Gangwon-do, Gio had just been a highly verbal, high-functioning potato.

Sergio wasn’t lacking in self-awareness. Teaching high schoolers bursting with energy to the point of combustion would ensure that. Besides, his appearance wasn’t particularly harmless either.

“It’s a bit funny, really.”

People treated Sergio like he was some grand, exceptional figure just for breathing.

He hadn’t done anything, yet they acted like he had. And nobody, not even Sergio himself, could pinpoint what exactly that “something” was. He remembered how watching people act that way had made him laugh—and so he let them.

“Everyone thinks I’m far more complicated than I am.”

“Gggooo...”

“That’s why, even if just in my heart, I keep calling myself a potato.”

To remind himself that he was nothing more than a regular human.

“Such is the rebellious nature of man.”

If they hadn’t made him out to be something so daunting and fascinating, maybe he wouldn’t be clinging to the potato narrative.

Sergio knew full well he wasn’t anything that extraordinary.

He had a lot of random skills, his grades were decently good, he had a decent number of friends, but he wasn’t as perfect in every area as people imagined.

“I’m just this ordinary person, but everyone treats me like I’m something special.”

And on top of that, he had an exceptionally handsome face—so people projected even more onto him. Gio knew that was a ridiculous misunderstanding, but others didn’t.

“Only the elders in our mountain village ever saw through my fleeting essence.”

That’s why he cherished the nickname “potato” even more.

“It gives me a sense of stability.”

It was, so to speak, his emotional hometown.

“It’s kind of funny how everyone gets flustered just by my expression...”

“Ggoo??”

“And I get scared, wondering if I might start believing I’m actually something.”

“Ggoo, ggoo.”

“No. I’m not special.”

Sergio knew his place.

“I’m just average.”

He was just a regular person with extremely poor social instincts.

“......”

“......”

Noticing the teddy bear’s uneasy, wavering gaze, Gio gave a nod. He could guess what it was imagining, and what it feared. But it was a misunderstanding.

“...Even I wouldn’t go out into the world shouting, ‘I am a potato!’”

“Ggoo.”

“No, not even shout—I don’t even say it out there. I know it’d sound like madness.”

What kind of embarrassing nonsense would that be?

Gio loved the identity of “potato” that those kind mountain elders had given him, but that was one thing, and this was another. Even Gio, the world’s most affectionate homebody, had to function in society.

“I might act bratty at home, but outside, I’m always polite and well-mannered. You don’t need to worry about your son acting foolishly in public.”

There are many grandchildren treated like little puppies in Korea, but that doesn’t mean they go around claiming it in public. Even elementary schoolers don’t do that—let alone a 29-year-old adult man.

“Ggnggg?”

“Why am I calling myself an old man?”

“Ggurrr.”

“Because I’m almost in my thirties, that’s why.”

He felt a little too ambiguous to be called a youth.

“With a two in front, it’s a bit of a stretch to call myself an old man...”

Technically, since he was a portrait, he wasn’t aging with the years, but due to his unique circumstances, Gio concluded that “old man” was accurate.

“In my current form, I’m 32 years old, so yes, I suppose I’m officially an old man.”

“Ggng...?”

“Wait, 24 plus 32 plus 29... that’s senior citizen tier, huh?”

In any case, he was in a situation where calling himself a young adult made his conscience ache.

“Anyway, what am I going to do with all these Mangdung berries?”

What could he do?

“Guess I’ll have to make Blood Rice Balls.”

Refinement Method: Grind the thoroughly dried berries into powder, mix with juice from the Rurupu, knead into balls, and dry them in a dark place for over a week. Effective for treating and recovering from bleeding.

“I’ll need to extract a bit more Rurupu.”

At the sound of “Rurupu,” Dana, who had been sprawled out lazily, perked up. Maybe because of today’s bright weather, her appearance, once reminiscent of a galaxy at night, now glowed with a clear blue sheen.

Dana shimmered in a pale blue light and gently bumped her head against Gio’s calf.

“Mngmng...”

“This batch’s for medicine, though.”

“Ang.”

“Oh, you just want to come with me.”

“Nyong.”

“Alright then, let’s go together.”

The giant cat Dana would once again become his dependable escort.

***

Meanwhile, there was yet another place stirred by the emergence of “Sergio Hunter.”

“I never imagined that Anti-Cat possessed such abilities.”

“Hahaha, truly remarkable. Letting one see souls...”

“It’s not yet a confirmed matter, so further examination is necessary.”

It was none other than the Church of the Sun and the Church of the Moon.

Religions rooted in traditional deities naturally adhered to cosmic order and were deeply concerned with the cycles of life and death. Before the rise of the Church of Death, these two had been the most closely associated with funerary rites.

“By the way, I’ve heard that monsters like Anti-Cat are not easily tamed.”

One elder priest remarked, and a younger priest echoed his sentiment.

“Yes, upon investigation, it turns out even tamers can’t handle it—it’s notoriously difficult.”

“Is that based on data from both domestic and international sources?”

“Yes. From what I’ve heard, this is the first successful case of taming an Anti-Cat in the world.”

“Well then, it’s something that will catch the eye of the global community.”

“It’s already causing a stir among tamers.”

A tamer’s prestige and honor depended on how many, how varied, and how difficult the monsters they could handle were. If it were true that Sergio had tamed an Anti-Cat, his reputation would quickly reach elite heights.

“They say the Anti-Cat doesn’t allow humans to approach at all.”

“I’m not well-versed in that field, so let me ask—can’t it be forcibly subdued?”

“I’ve heard it incinerates everything around it when provoked.”

“Even if the hunter has flame resistance...?”

“It’s said to be a fire that burns the soul. No matter how strong the resistance, even the most hardened hunters would struggle.”

“A fire that burns the soul... how troubling.”

The priests stirred restlessly. Few topics were as sensitive to them as the soul.

“I’d very much like to witness that power myself—if it’s possible.”

“But it won’t be easy. The Collector’s Guild has kept this one under wraps.”

“He seems to be a hunter deeply cherished by the Collector. A careless approach could be costly.”

“Still, shouldn’t we verify the authenticity of those powers?”

“And who are we to make such judgments?”

“Ahem, apologies. I let my eagerness get ahead of me.”

A hunter’s authority always belonged to their guild. Interfering in that meant bracing for a cold war of subtle power plays. The Church of the Sun had no desire to stir things up with one of Korea’s three major guilds.

“I understand your thoughts. If Anti-Cat truly has powers that interact with the soul...”

“It would be a tremendous asset to the priests performing funeral rites.”

“It would also benefit the image of the Church of the Sun. With the recent dungeon outbreaks, our standing has been weakened.”

“Even the apprentice priests remain uneasy.”

“That’s why now, more than ever, we must demonstrate the virtues and honor of the Church—to reassure both initiates and believers.”

Another elder priest expressed reluctance.

“But isn't it true that only a tamer can handle Anti-Cat? Even if the ability is real, our priests wouldn’t be able to tame the creature.”

“Couldn’t we enlist the help of this hunter named Sergio? I heard that during the 'Nation of the Deep Sea' incident, he showed healing powers close to that of the Sun. If that’s the case, he can’t hold any ill will toward our church. Even if he was swept up in such an incident... faith, after all, is...”

“No, listen. The concern isn’t whether he holds no grudge—we should be more worried about turning neutral feelings into negative ones. From what I’ve heard, he dislikes attention and has been living as an unofficial hunter until now.”

“Well, the fact that he’s now showing his face so openly suggests he might be trying to live as an official hunter. I agree that we shouldn’t provoke his dislike. If his powers are real, we need to approach him with the utmost respect.”

“More importantly, I...”

A middle-aged priest added,

“I believe his powers are real.”

“And what leads you to that conclusion?”

“He is a hunter under the Collector.”

“Ah, yes... of course.”

“He is not a man who would show favoritism without reason.”

Bisa Beul’s tastes were well-known. His baseline requirements were simple: competent and diligent. A man of such keen eyes would never treasure a hunter inflated by empty hype.

“If Guildmaster Bisa Beul has given ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ his approval...”

“Then we have no choice but to trust it.”

“If we cannot trust the Collector’s discernment, what else is there to trust?”

After all, his collections were his life’s purpose.

“Even so, we still don’t know the exact nature of Sergio’s powers.”

“To try and snatch them up with no effort would be the behavior of scoundrels.”

“Th-that is true, yes...”

For someone who wasn’t even a guildmaster to go poking around a hunter’s identity and power set would be terribly rude—especially things like specific skills or exact rankings.

“With how things are going, the details will come to light naturally, little by little.”

The elder priests understood the flow of the world.

“He’s shown his face, and the Collector’s Guild didn’t try to suppress it. That means they’ve decided that this Sergio Hunter is ready to be revealed to the world.”

“And what better stage to debut a hunter than a dungeon? It’s not as if the world lacks dungeons to conquer, or guilds curious about his capabilities...”

“If no proper site presents itself, we could offer one. What about proposing a joint expedition to that dungeon we discovered in Gangwon-do?”

“In any case, the truth of Sergio Hunter’s powers will become clear before long. Hahaha, if possible, I’d truly love to learn more about that Anti-Cat’s abilities.”

As they said this, their gazes all turned to one young priest.

“......”

It was Kang Seodam, the priest who had once entered a dungeon alongside “Sergio Hunter.”

He clenched his teeth in silence.

“O Sun... grant me the courage to endure the trials ahead.”