The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 161

Exactly midnight—when most citizens of Seoul were long collapsed in exhaustion—two people sat in the hallway of a high-rise apartment.

“...Are we really doing this the right way?”

Joo-Hyun couldn't help but question the surreal nature of this meeting, something nearly extinct in modern society.

“Sitting on two folding chairs in an apartment hallway, facing a portrait hung on the opposite wall?”

“What’s the problem? There’s even a table. This table was custom-made by our guild, you know.”

“It’s a half-circle shape, so it does feel like Mr. Gio is sitting here with us...” free𝑤ebnovel.com

“Feels like? He is actually here, isn’t he?”

“He hasn’t stepped out of the frame, though.”

Joo-Hyun offered a dry smile.

“Since it’s in a frame like that, this kind of feels like I’m holding a conversation with a memorial photo. It’s a bit unsettling.”

To that, the subject of the portrait answered.

“In a way, I am a memorial photo.”

Yoo Seong-Woon countered.

“No, you’re not a photo—you’re a portrait.”

“In that regard, Mr. Yoo Seong-Woon is correct.”

“Although... your ‘portrait’ might not be the usual kind. Could be the other kind of ‘ch’osang’—you know, as in the mourning rites.”

“A clever observation.”

“Since we’re discussing your identity, do you have anything to contribute?”

“I’d like to say I respect all forms of diversity.”

And Joo-Hyun thought:

What kind of conversation even is this?

The kind that naturally draws out one’s most polite, society-approved smile.

“Are we absolutely sure there’s no risk of this conversation leaking outside?”

“As I said before, Ms. Joo-Hyun.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled with reassuring confidence.

“This is a very expensive apartment.”

“That’s true.”

“Unless you’re a hunter with some seriously deep pockets, you’d snap your spine just trying to live here.”

“That also makes sense.”

“If a place charging this much money still allowed data leaks, it would’ve gone up in flames a long time ago.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Joo-Hyun nodded compliantly and pointed at a CCTV camera fixed in the hallway.

“That’s been taken care of too, I assume?”

“You say that like you’re agreeing, but I still feel suspicion dripping from you.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“Yes, that’s been thoroughly handled for a while now. Nothing to worry about.”

“What exactly was thoroughly handled is what worries me.”

“There are many spooky rumors about the Collector’s Guild, but as you know, most of them come from our own artworks and ghost stories.”

“Yes, and those are also... still rather worrying.”

“The Collector’s Guild doesn’t spill innocent blood. No harm came to the staff—we simply reached an agreement.”

He added lightly:

“We just settled it all with money.”

“I don’t even know where to start with the dozens of thoughts in my head right now.”

“There’s no need to share every thought aloud.”

Yoo Seong-Woon cut off her spiral gently.

“Between being forced to shut up for free and choosing to stay quiet for a hefty sum, the latter is clearly the better option. I can personally attest there was no coercion involved.”

“Still, there’s something bitter about living in a world where everything gets solved with money.”

“On that point, I fully agree. But at the end of the day, no one truly hates money, right? The important thing is to stay within acceptable lines—and we handled this within agreeable terms.”

“I wasn’t trying to criticize how the Collector’s Guild does things...”

“And above all, you might be wondering if money alone can really keep mouths shut—but in this case, we also used a soul contract. Unless they want to give up... a lot, that silence is guaranteed.”

“Could we please not keep using the phrase keep mouths shut? It’s starting to sound like we’re in some illegal guild.”

It made her feel deeply unsettled, as a regular civilian.

“This meeting is already strange enough—I mean, I’ve never attended anything like this before—but if soul contracts are involved, then... yes, I suppose I can trust that.”

“What exactly is a soul contract?”

It was the portrait who asked.

Joo-Hyun paused for a moment to organize her thoughts. The question was so basic, she wasn’t sure how to explain it.

“...It’s exactly what it sounds like—a contract involving one’s soul. These days there are various methods, but the common factor is that they all use the system of the awakened.”

“The system of the awakened...”

“They operate on a higher-dimensional framework than regular humans. Unless specific clauses are added, the terms of a soul contract cannot be changed midway.”

“Are the building managers here awakened?”

“Some are, and some aren’t. But to carry out a soul contract, you only need one awakened person to officiate. They don’t even need to be a party to the contract—just a qualified witness.”

Yoo Seong-Woon added:

“The manager I contracted with was awakened.”

“That explains everything.”

The portrait nodded.

“Shall we begin the meeting now?”

“Yes, let’s.”

As Yoo Seong-Woon gave his nod, Joo-Hyun spoke up.

“Fortunately, in this latest necromancy incident, the public attention has mostly landed on Miss Dana. It helped that we’d previously described Hunter Sergio as a tamer. People are most convinced by the explanation that the event was due to a monster’s help, rather than the hunter’s own powers.”

Had Gio pulled that off without Dana, it would’ve caused far more than just a “surprising incident.” After all, summoning intact souls with a wave of one’s hand was a power far beyond human limits—even if soul-related skills existed.

But tamers were rare. And among them, none had ever succeeded in taming an Anti-Cat. The idea that this unknown monster possessed soul-related powers seemed to help people swallow the incident more easily. Or so Joo-Hyun ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) believed.

“Realistically, Mr. Gio likely played the larger role, but the public doesn’t know the finer details.”

Without Gio’s consent as “Gio’s Portrait,” the Anti-Cat—once the size of a kitten—wouldn’t have grown to that scale or gained such abilities. Just because someone else tamed an Anti-Cat didn’t mean they could replicate this outcome. Still, letting things slide like this was better for helping Gio blend into society without drawing suspicion.

“And perhaps because of that...”

With her usual polite smile, Joo-Hyun continued.

“This time, the religious groups seem to be especially interested in the incident. Particularly the Church of the Sun and the Church of the Moon.”

“I’ve visited the Church of the Sun before.”

“Ah yes, probably during that induction ceremony. But that event opened a public prayer space that even outsiders could enter. Once you step further inside, the experience will be very different.”

Joo-Hyun pulled out a document.

“And in that context...”

He looked directly at the portrait.

“The Church of the Sun has submitted a request for collaboration.”

“They want to verify my abilities?”

“It may sound unpleasant... but that’s the reality of the situation.”

Joo-Hyun’s calm, composed reply impressed Yoo Seong-Woon, who had been quietly observing their conversation.

‘To respond like that without flinching... she’s got nerves of steel.’

It wasn’t as if Joo-Hyun knew nothing about “Gio’s Portrait.” With help from Yoo Seong-Woon and the Collector’s Guild members, she had thoroughly studied up on him. And as a former researcher at the Association, she was well aware of the dangers he posed and the sheer scale of his presence.

‘And yet she reacts like that...’

For most people, it would be nearly impossible to speak that casually to a mysterious, divine being—especially when asked to assess his capabilities. Saying something like “it might offend you, but that’s the truth” would be unthinkable.

‘She’s bold in the strangest ways...’

While Yoo Seong-Woon mused to himself, the conversation continued on.

“People still know very little about ‘Sergio Hunter.’”

“I believe I’ve provided as many hints as possible about myself.”

“Your miracle at the Gitah Orphanage certainly raised your profile.”

“It wasn’t quite a miracle.”

“True, more like a performance. Still, that performance—and your collaboration with Curator Yoo—have allowed you to gain public recognition unusually quickly.”

However—

“That doesn’t mean people have resolved all their questions about you.”

“You mean their curiosity has only deepened.”

“Yes, exactly. What’s his specialty? What position does he serve in raids? What has he done in the past? There’s no shortage of questions.”

Joo-Hyun held out the document sent from the Church of the Sun.

“From that perspective, this outreach from the Church could be very helpful.”

It was a formal visit request.

“This is a standard tactic when any organization wants to gauge a famous hunter. If it were from a guild, they’d have just sent an email or business card.”

“Right. It’s like saying, ‘Let’s get to know each other.’ When they think the hunter’s inexperienced or not threatening, they often send this kind of feeler. It’s a test run.”

Approaches varied by organization.

“It depends on which guild a hunter is affiliated with—or if they’re freelance. Even freelancers will have a manager, so that’s usually the first point of contact.”

Joo-Hyun nodded.

“That was also the case for me. It’s considered rude to directly contact a hunter you’ve never met before. Formal requests are typically routed through the manager or the affiliated guild.”

She added,

“Ah, by the way, the term ‘inexperienced hunter’ is slang. It usually refers to hunters new to the field, though sometimes it’s used pejoratively.”

“Slang, I see.”

“It can imply inexperience, but sometimes it’s used to belittle someone's skill—which, of course, is very disrespectful.”

“That was a thorough explanation.”

“If any terms or behavior are unclear in the future, I’ll be happy to clarify.”

Sliding the document toward Gio’s portrait, Joo-Hyun continued.

“In simple terms, this letter says, ‘Shall we be friends?’ But for an organization as large as the Church of the Sun to reach out directly—that’s rare.”

Anyone in the know would already understand what this meant.

“I’ll prepare accordingly.”

“The Church of the Sun...”

Gio turned to Yoo Seong-Woon.

“That’s where Priest Kang Seodam and Student Cha I-Sol are, correct?”

“Right. This request also came through Priest Kang’s office.”

“I assume there was no personal message.”

“Kang Seodam doesn’t strike me as someone who makes personal appeals.”

“That was my impression as well, when I met him.”

The portrait made its decision.

“I will pay them a visit soon.”

“You mean the Church?”

“I mean Priest Kang Seodam.”

Joo-Hyun nodded.

“Understood. I’ll make preparations.”

And silently, she thought to herself:

‘So the Church itself hasn’t earned a passing grade yet, huh?’

Given Gio—no, Giovanni’s—complicated history, it would’ve been more surprising if he had positive feelings toward the Church of the Sun. But thanks to his unusual personality, he didn’t seem to bear a grudge either. Not quite fond, but not hostile.

‘He’s just mildly curious.’

He had said before that he’d visited once, so he clearly wasn’t indifferent. From Joo-Hyun’s point of view, it was one of the easier attitudes to handle.

“There have been a few other contacts as well, though none particularly urgent. Most of them are from mass media outlets, so I’ve just sorted them lightly. Would you like an overview?”

“I do not wish to carry out two engagements at once.”

“Ah, understood. It would indeed be burdensome for you to handle multiple tasks simultaneously. I’ll prepare everything so you can focus on just one.”

Joo-Hyun and Yoo Seong-Woon thought in unison:

‘Is this one of Gio’s personal rules?’

‘Maybe there’s a limit to how much he can do at once.’

One was a gardener, the other a former researcher. Neither of them arrived at the simple conclusion:

‘Gio is an introvert who runs out of energy quickly doing too much at once.’

But to be fair, it wasn’t entirely their fault. Gio’s aura was so composed and imposing that even strangers wouldn’t imagine him as someone who’d wilt from too much social exposure.

‘I suppose even stepping out of the frame for long periods must be exhausting.’

Thinking this, Yoo Seong-Woon gave a mild smile.

“Then what date would work best?”

“I’ll follow whatever you recommend.”

“Alright. Then, Ms. Joo-Hyun, can you handle the scheduling?”

And with that, the first ever Hallway Conference concluded—on a surprisingly wholesome note.

***

And elsewhere... things were not going so smoothly. Nor did they end on a warm note.

“Haaaa...”

Kang Seodam, the priest who had been shoved aside to deal with leftovers, muttered under his breath.

‘Rotten religious bureaucracy...’

The younger and lower-ranked you were, the more you were treated like a slave.

If not for the merciful light of the Sun, he would’ve walked out long ago. Now, he calmed himself.

It was time... to face the divine.