Although the portrait had closed its eyes due to Yu Seong-un's haste, the owner of the painting, Bisabeol, did not get angry at him.
"It was a portrait that wouldn't even answer when I spoke to it anyway. It wouldn't even look at me."
"...."
"The 17 employees who had conversed with it until now couldn't stand the pressure from the portrait and ran away. In that sense, Mr. Yu Seong-un's attempt should be seen as having great meaning and results."
"But…."
"Making Jio run away certainly couldn't be called a good choice, but I scouted you, Mr. Yu Seong-un, because I was taken with that spirit of inquiry of yours. You don't need to apologize for that part."
"I will be careful in the future."
"That's enough."
Fortunately, Bisabeol was a person who was special to his own people.
The duty of a curator is to maintain and manage artworks.
This kind of spirit of inquiry, which a researcher might have, is not appropriate.
Nevertheless, it was something to be thankful for to have met a boss who defended this side of Yu Seong-un.
"Haa…."
But Yu Seong-un was still troubled.
'Just because there wasn't a big problem doesn't mean the mistake disappears.'
It had been quite a while since he was hired by Bisabeol and had been living as a curator.
He thought he had become very dull while appreciating and managing Bisabeol's collection during that time, but it seems his nature was his nature, as he had lost his mind at the mystery of a dungeon he had seen for the first time in a long while.
Yu Seong-un entered his personal workshop and bit down on a candy.
An adult exhausted by fatigue needed sugar.
"...."
Yes, that's right.
'Jio's Portrait is not an ordinary monster.'
That point stimulated Yu Seong-un's curiosity.
"…It could simply be a mutation, but…."
A small mumble.
"...."
Yu Seong-un sat in his chair for a long while, staring into the empty air.
Eventually, he opened his mouth.
"…Should I try contacting the Gardeners."
The Gardeners were a profession secretly operated by the associations of each country.
In fact, it is not to the level of being 'secretly operated.'
Since they are tasks that anyone can do if they have the right aptitude.
However, it would be more appropriate to say that it just wasn't publicly spread semi-forcibly because there were so few people with that aptitude.
'But since I came out feigning retirement as a researcher, it's a bit awkward to contact them again.'
The Gardeners, a kind of secret researcher and adventurer, were people who were close to the truth of the dungeons.
As such, they knew various pieces of information not known to the world, but Yu Seong-un's knowledge as a former Gardener could not explain 'Jio's Portrait.'
It was a type of being he had never seen before in his life.
"…Well, it'll work out somehow."
Creak….
Yu Seong-un let out a sigh and slumped in his chair.
"There's no need to rush, so let's take it slow."
No matter what humans do, the 'Source' does not run away.
'Because it's too big of a fellow for that.'
There was no reason to hastily dig up secrets, nor did he feel like it.
In the first place, it was just a few days ago that he had acted so hastily and made 'Jio' run away.
"Let's reflect, reflect…."
Fortunately, 'Jio's' avoidance was not very long.
A few days later, Yu Seong-un was able to see the portrait with its eyes open.
* * *
"…Uh…."
"Good day."
"…Hello?"
Yu Seong-un gave an awkward laugh.
"Good evening."
"Yes, it is."
The forest in Jio's Portrait was an evening with twinkling stars.
"It happens to be evening for us as well."
"Wasn't it dawn."
"I came a little early today. It's not even 12 o'clock yet."
"It seems certainly earlier than usual, is there a reason?"
"I came to check on the other artworks I'm in charge of."
Yu Seong-un shrugged his shoulders.
"And then I saw that you, Jio, were awake."
"I am always awake."
"That's a surprising story."
Yu Seong-un, who had been joking around, asked in his characteristic calm voice.
"What were you doing just now?"
His gaze was directed at the brush held in the portrait's hand.
It was a very strange sight of a picture holding a tool that could draw a picture.
'If the Guild Master saw this, his eyes would pop out.'
Jio answered meekly.
"I was making a bird."
"Ah, so you were drawing a bird."
"Yes."
"May I see it as well? If it's not too much of a bother, that is."
"If you wish, Mr. Yu Seong-un, I will show you."
The man with the blunt face put down the brush in his hand and then tapped somewhere that was not visible to Yu Seong-un.
As his delicate fingers called someone out with discipline, a strange event occurred.
The sound of splashing water was heard, and soon a single bird appeared.
"...."
Yu Seong-un was surprised.
Of course, unlike the previous jewel, it was certainly flat like a being from beyond the picture… but at least it felt as alive as Jio.
"…That bird is…."
"My new family."
"Ah, I see."
I wanted to answer as calmly as possible, but I don't know if I succeeded.
To be honest, Yu Seong-un was a little excited.
"It is a wonderful bird."
The bird was very small. In terms of species in Korea, would it be the shape of a long-tailed tit?
But its tail feathers were much longer, and its wings were one with its transparent body and were not clearly visible.
Perhaps they were fused together as they were.
It was made of very clean water.
It resembled the holy water that Yu Seong-un, a former Gardener, had occasionally seen in dungeons, or the spring water of a remote region where no life lived at all.
"Jio, did you just create that?"
I thought I knew why he had said 'create' instead of 'draw.'
That was definitely a living, moving creature.
"You were holding a brush."
"I've taken a liking to it, so I am trying to make several."
"Several?"
"Right now, there are probably… a little less than 100."
"That is amazing."
To think that he drew those 100 one by one.
"It couldn't have been easy."
"Time is all I have, so it does not matter."
"Ah…."
"It's fun, too."
"...."
Is his personality one that seeks interest, surprisingly?
'A point to note.'
As it was Jio with his overly polite and stiff expression, it was hard to get a feel for it, but the fact that a being, whether a monster or something else, lives a life centered on interest was something to be wary of as a human.
Yu Seong-un, having memorized the information in his head, asked again.
"It seems to be made of water, can that bird sing?"
"It doesn't have vocal cords, but…."
Flutter…!
Splash, splash!
"…Like this."
"Aha."
When the bird shook its body like a wet puppy, a splashing sound was made.
It sounded like a small water bottle being shaken and also like a jelly of thin viscosity being mixed around.
Yu Seong-un let out a small laugh.
"So that's how it cries."
The portrait added.
"It can cry in other ways too."
"But didn't you say it has no vocal cords?"
"It is a similar method to before, but."
Jio took out a small jewel from inside his suit.
"How about it."
Flap…! Flutter!
"It's yours."
Chomp.
The small-bodied bird snatched the green jewel from Jio's hand.
It seemed to gauge the jewel by biting it here and there with its tiny mouth, and soon, it swallowed it in one gulp.
"Ah."
Jio, still with a blunt expression, handed over a few more jewels.
"It should be able to cry now."
"How…."
Just then, a clattering sound was heard.
"...."
Yu Seong-un soon understood how the bird in front of him cried.
'…By moving or hitting the objects put inside its body….'
It was a sight that resembled a fairy tale.
The jewels trapped inside the bird's transparent body floated around and they also made sounds by hitting each other.
Even though they looked like dense jewels, the jewels floating around in that small body sparkled along with the light-scattered water.
Jio spoke as if teaching a newborn beast.
"Yes."
Clatter!
"You're doing well."
Click, clack!
"...."
And then, he was seen blinking twice.
His blunt expression hadn't changed, but perhaps it was just his imagination, he looked tired.
"They are chatterboxes."
"They seem quite quiet."
"I can't even imagine how noisy it would have been if they had vocal cords."
"That… may be true, but."
The bird, showing the quick movements characteristic of a small-bodied beast, moved here and there on Jio's hand, flapped its tail, and busily struggled.
Then it would spread its wings and flutter them.
'The wings are bigger than I thought.'
The wings, large enough to cover its entire body, were absorbed back into the torso and lost their shape.
'That part is just like a slime.'
The way it tried hard to put something into its body also seemed a bit similar.
Though that one seems to do so for the purpose of decorating itself rather than hunting….
How would it react if it met an enemy?
"…Your painting is truly wonderful."
Is this a portrait and also a painter?
At Yu Seong-un's words, spoken with that thought, Jio looked at him.
Those eyes, so black they even seemed bright, held Yu Seong-un for a moment, then soon opened his mouth.
"Thank you."
"I didn't say anything rude, did I?"
"It was a compliment perfectly suited for someone who draws pictures."
"Then I am glad."
But a living painting.
'Anyone would call that wonderful.'
As Yu Seong-un was staring blankly at the bird, the portrait asked.
"Do you have any other questions?"
"Ah, a question…."
Is this also one of the rules of 'Jio's Portrait'?
'It seems to give an opportunity like this every time.'
Yu Seong-un gauged the other's patience and goodwill and answered.
"I always have questions. So I have one this time as well. Because you, Jio, showed me such a wonderful picture."
"I see."
"This bird is truly beautiful. Do these creatures have their own sense of beauty? Or do they act according to your taste, Jio?"
"...."
The portrait that blinked twice answered.
"I do not know much about these friends."
"I see."
"But they like to decorate themselves by putting something in their bodies."
Perhaps because they had had quite a few conversations so far, Jio continued speaking without reservation.
"I have made about 100 birds so far, but the objects they preferred were different for each. This friend prefers jewels, some birds wanted flowers, and some sought branches or pebbles. Sometimes it was small fish or fruits from a tree."
Flutter!
When the portrait waved its hand, the bird that was sitting on it flew.
The sound of water was heard.
"They do not move according to my aesthetic sense. They have their own firm tastes. It might have been influenced by me a little… but it is not something I can force now."
"That sounds just like a real bird."
"This place is a picture. The picture drawn by me, the owner of the picture, becomes real. If they wish, they can live and breathe. They can."
"...."
"Has this become a sufficient answer?"
Yu Seong-un, who was silent for a moment, soon opened his mouth.
"This bird does not seem like a simple picture. It seems alive. By any chance, can it come outside like you, Jio?"
"Well."
Jio did not give a clear answer.
It seemed as if he himself did not know what would happen, or perhaps as if he did not particularly want to say. Yu Seong-un did not pay much mind and moved on.
However, he asked cautiously.
"Is there…."
"...."
"A soul in this?"
Now, 31 years after the dungeons appeared, people acknowledged the existence of the 'soul.'
It was an unavoidable trend because various skills targeting the soul had emerged.
Though there is no such skill that is not rare.
"Did you just create a bird with a soul?"
"Well."
The same answer as before.
'I don't know his intentions.'
The portrait was still blunt.
It was a face that could not be seen as that of a person who had just created a life and so it had a more alien and eerie aspect.
'Does it feel more grotesque because he casually does things that don't seem human at all, yet his eyes, nose, and mouth are all attached like a person's?'
There was a sense of incongruity on a different level from the monsters or similar things he had seen usually.
The portrait answered as usual.
"I do not know either."
"If you, the owner, do not know, then who does?"
"Perhaps no one knows."
His voice was clear.
"I simply drew a picture and I am a person who has come inside a picture."
"...."
"I can decorate this picture and the picture decorated in such a way becomes real within this portrait. Just like when you drew me an apple last time, Mr. Yu Seong-un…."
"...."
"In the end, it's a picture."
It sounds like a play on words, but it wasn't wrong either.
'A picture within a picture is indeed real.'
Yu Seong-un asked again after a moment.
"You created a bird within the picture. You drew and gave me a jewel and you were able to deliver that to me."
"That is correct."
"Jio, you are certainly a picture, but at the same time, you are human and can also influence reality."
He asked.
"In that case, can you draw a real life here?"
"...."
"I mean, can you draw something like a destiny, a past or a memory, not just on the level of coming out of the picture and going back in like last time. Or perhaps…."
"...."
"An actual person."
Jio answered eventually.
"It may be possible or it may not be."
"...."
"But I do not want to do so."
"…Why? Is it not lonely or boring inside the picture?"
"I do not feel loneliness here."
His tone was still blunt.
"I am comfortable here. This place where the weather is always nice, the spring breeze blows, and the scent of the forest is full, nothing is cumbersome or difficult."
"...."
"If a time comes when I am bored, I can just create a new friend like now. That is enough."
Yu Seong-un was a little surprised.
"You are satisfied with your peaceful world of the picture?"
The heteromorphic beings he had seen so far had always coveted things of reality.
Regardless of whether they had an ego, their actions were instinctive, like the stem of a plant stretching towards the sunlight.
"Do you not feel the desire to come out?"
"It is tiring."
"That… may be so, but…."
"I do not want to go out. This place is my home now."
"...."
He just clearly said, 'now.'
'…So there was a time when he didn't live in this portrait.'
The portrait claims to be human, and he said there was a time when he did not reside in the portrait, but there was no guarantee that the place he resided in was necessarily Earth.
'It could be another dungeon or dimension. No, considering Jio's usual statements and class, the probability of this side would be a bit higher.'
Regardless of Yu Seong-un's thoughts, the portrait continued.
"I cannot create a living being that threatens me."
"…A threatening living being?"
"A human is a being that always has the potential to harm other beings. The living beings I can create are only friendly friends to me. That is the rule of this portrait."
"...."
"I didn't know well at first either, but after a few attempts, I figured it out. Because I am the owner of this portrait, I cannot create a being that can erase me. That is why I cannot draw a human."
The portrait murmured.
"Because a portrait without an owner cannot be established."
Having said that, Jio looked at Yu Seong-un again.
"Creating a human is unsettling."
"Why is that?"
"It is too special of an event."
"Isn't it good if it's special?"
"Because I am not that special, it is not good."
"...."
"My specialness is satisfied with being a talking portrait."
That was certainly too deep to be believed as the thought of a portrait with only a simple ego.
'It's certain that he's not an ordinary monster or item.'
That is why there was an eerie aspect.
"...."
"Has this become a sufficient answer?"
"For today, yes."
Not a monster, not an item.
Not a ghost, nor a human.
"I will see you next time."
What in the world is this.
-x-X-x-
"...."
I was standing in the workshop.
"...."
What I was looking at were the numerous drawers covering all four walls.
What I was recalling were the paint ingredients that would be sleeping quietly in those drawers.
"...."
Soon, I moved.
"…Let's use what I used last time."
I brought out the ingredients I had used in the past when creating the water birds.
That wasn't all.
Not only gems resembling aquamarine and emerald, but also white and transparent pebbles like marble from a stream.
A piece of an obsidian branch that had been hiding among the forest, pretending to be a burnt tree.
A light green tree bark, so vibrant it looked like juice would come out if pressed firmly….
When I felt it was enough, I stopped taking ingredients out of the drawer.
"It's tiring to put them back if there are leftovers, so if I run short, I'll just get more later…."
Clack, clatter.
I placed the ingredients on the workbench.
"…Today's content."
Making my own paint.
"Nice."
Basically, the materials needed to make oil paint were pigment to create color, oil to mix it with, and a glass plate and a pestle to gather and mix them into a fine paint.
If you wanted to mix it well, a palette knife of a suitable size was also needed.
Among them, what I was trying to make now was the pigment that would provide the color.
"First, shall I try breaking them a bit."
In the state they were in, just taken out of the drawer, the ingredients couldn't be made into proper paint.
They all had to be made into the form of colored powder and to do that, it seemed they had to be broken first.
I prepared a sharp nail and a hammer.
Staring intently at a transparent gem, I soon placed the nail on a certain point and tap! hit it.
"...."
Even though it wasn't a strong force, the gem, struck precisely on its fissure, split into two pieces.
I thought.
'As expected, I'm a cool potato.'
This mountain village idol knows the splitting point of minerals just by looking at them.
'I should have been a miner.'
I continued my work.
Clatter.
"...."
Tap, crack.
Craaack…!
"...."
Snap.
"…Yes."
Perhaps because I identified and struck only the weakest grain, the gem was soon broken into pieces smaller than my pinky nail.
"This much should be enough."
I smashed the finely fragmented gem with the hammer, then swept the smaller pieces into a ceramic pestle and ground them with force.
At some point, the grinding sound that hit the ears changed smoothly as if glass beads were rolling, and the gem became all powder.
"…What kind of principle is this…."
A pigment with an exquisite mix of blue and light green was completed.
"This is troublesome. I hope I don't get captured and taken to a research lab because everything that constitutes me is so special."
The ingredients in this workshop were all unique.
Originally, if you grind gems, you only get stone powder.
The reason most gems have a transparent and beautiful color is due to their molecular structure and if you grind them, the transparency of the gem can no longer be found.
But the gems here were different.
'Even when ground, their color and transparency remain intact.'
For their original colors to remain whole even after going through my amateur process, it was truly a case of benefiting from excellent materials.
The finely ground gems, when clumped together, would shine with a unique, refreshing transparency.
Having silently made all the ingredients into pigments, I slowly mixed them with the prepared oil.
"...."
Even though it was raw stone powder that had been ground up, the oil and pigment did not separate.
Normally, I would have had to prepare an oil that matched the characteristics of the pigment, but the wax in my workshop showed excellent viscosity and compatibility.
"…Mix in the scent too…."
Moving beyond simply creating color, I even added a well-matching scent.
The scented oil, infused with things like flowers or fruits, strangely blended excellently with the pigment.
"Grind it, and add it…."
I added the pigment and scented oil and ground it finely on the glass plate.
"...."
So that it feels like silk brushing against the hand.
Very finely.
***
The water birds I made were more playful than I thought.
"Kids."
Clatter.
"The back of Dad's neck feels chilly."
They were squirming inside my collar and making nests.
Inside the collar of my shirt, inside the slightly open gap of my sleeves, in my pants and my top, wherever there was space, the water birds were wedged in.
'Isn't it uncomfortable.'
To compare them to small water balloons, the appearance of the guys who had settled inside my clothes, even crumpling their own shapes, could hardly be called balloons or birds.
Seeing them crumpled up while maintaining a minimal round shape, I looked at the ceiling for a moment.
"...."
I'll let it slide because it's funny.
"…Perhaps it's because they're doing it to me, their parent, but they seem to like being wedged in somewhere. Or do they like hiding."
The water birds had a habit of flocking together in groups. If not that, they preferred to pool somewhere.
Sometimes when I went outside the cabin, I was often surprised by puddles that appeared even though it hadn't rained.
'They're definitely different from ordinary puddles, so I can notice them right away.'
The puddles they gathered in had a faint bluish light, were strangely transparent, and had various trinkets rolling around inside them.
It was ironic, considering that when I recalled them usually clumped together in the shape of round birds, I couldn't feel any viscosity at all.
"They look just like water on the outside."
Rustle.
"If you keep making a fuss, I might just stick a straw in and slurp you up."
Rustle, rustle.
"It was a joke, I won't drink you. That was a scary thing to say, even for me."
Living water, how could I possibly drink such a thing.
"Eating something alive, drinking paint, and consuming the children I birthed from paint are all physiologically difficult for me."
Clatter?
"Before I can be moved by your filial piety, suggesting you could offer your bodies if your father is thirsty, I feel terror. It would be best to refrain."
Exchanging a meaningless conversation with my children, who had grown to nearly several hundred, I was now sitting in the workshop.
"I need to build you a house."
I didn't think much of it at first, but having living water roaming around the house was getting on my nerves.
If they just gathered quietly, it would be fine, but they sometimes came into the house and caused trouble or stole things.
If that was all, I would have found it cute and let it go, but because they sometimes hide in the stream as well….
"I've been saying this, but I don't really mean to drink you. I misspoke, kids."
Squish.
"No, I refuse. Don't brand your dad with some weird taste. I just wanted to drink some water."
I had almost really drunk the water birds.
"Do you know how surprised I was when you popped out of my mouth? Yes, you, the one with nothing in your stomach right now."
The only way to distinguish the water birds was by their faint light and the trinkets inside them, but when one completely assimilated with the stream water without any of its own items, it was impossible to tell.
When I felt the water squirming in my mouth, my heart sank.
The bird itself didn't seem to mind, and surprisingly even seemed to like it, but I had no such merciless tastes.
"You guys need a home too."
Clatter, clack?
"You need your own habitat."
It's not like we don't have money, or time, or land.
In this abundant and wide world, what's this about living as dependents.
"And…."
There was also a personal interest.
"I'm thinking of decorating this place a little."
Tap-tap, clack!
"It's too plain right now."
A single cabin, a vast forest, and a beautiful spring.
That alone was insufficient.
"I should make a fishing spot."
There's a reason for the immense popularity of open-world RPGs.
In any content, a map isn't good just because it's big; it must be rich with elements to enjoy.
"I'm not saying this place is really a game, but it's true that it needs to be developed. In the end, it's the same context."
The outdoor activities I did now were, at best, gathering and farming. I had to increase the content I could enjoy one by one so I wouldn't get bored without even leaving the painting.
"For some reason, I just don't feel attached to the outside world right now."
Rip.
"Maybe it's because it's not the world I remember from back then…."
Rip.
"I don't want to live there."
I liked it here inside the painting now.
"And living the life of a bum is good too."
Actually, this was the best part.
"…Come out now."
Click! Clack!
"I don't mind you watching me paint, but it's distracting if you stay inside my clothes. My shirt is about to burst right now, poor thing."
Clatter….
"Do you think this dad is doing this for my own good, kids? Remember that this is all to build a house for you."
Fortunately, the water birds obediently came out of my clothes.
"...."
Thanks to my children who knew how to listen, I could finally hold the brush.
I opened my mouth.
"If I'm going to fish…."
A large lake would be nice.
"Let's make it a lake."
Let's make it a lake where the trees and water are in direct contact.
Fish will live beneath it.
There will be small minnows that flowed in from the stream and flatfish hiding their bodies buried in the sand at the bottom.
"Nice."
Let's also build a bridge to fish from.
There's a wooden bridge connecting the middle of the large lake.
Is the color a bit light?
A light and soft color like a freshly baked loaf of bread would be nice.
If the lake water can be glimpsed through the gaps in the wooden planks, it would sparkle in the sunlight during the day.
What would the evening scenery be like?
"...."
Every time it sways in the wind, the water's surface will glow like a gentle lantern.
When night falls and it gets dark, I hope the inside can be seen clearly.
I hope the entirety of that deep lake's interior can be seen.
It would be a bright but gentle light, like the fluorescent bracelet I used to cherish and watch by myself as a child, hidden under a thick blanket in a dark room.
"…It would be nice if the color changes according to your mood."
Rustle.
"Golden on a good day, red on a bad day, blue on a sad or depressing day… and green on an ordinarily peaceful day."
Rustle, rustle.
"Because you don't have vocal cords, so you can't cry."
If I can't hear you, I'll make it so I can see you.
"That's how I can talk with you too."
Although I was the creator of the water birds, I couldn't control them as I pleased.
So I don't know what the water birds are thinking, their forms are hazy, and without vocal cords, they're quiet, so if I don't listen carefully, I don't even know where they are.
'It's not for nothing that I almost ate one. Such a catastrophe must not happen again.'
If not for their playful and chatty personalities, I would surely not be able to find them.
"...."
That seemed a little sad.
"I'll come visit at night. We can talk then."
Squish.
"If you shine such a light on a dark evening, I'll be able to see it even if I'm in the cabin. Yes, that would work. I'll be watching you from the veranda, so you can tell me what you want to say then."
Squish, squish.
"Yes."
I moved the brush again.
"Let's do that."
The lake I painted held the night.
"…I like it."
The lake's color was not just one.
Water birds like to gather together, but the treasures they keep inside their bodies are all different.
Their personalities are different. What they say, what they think, what they do, all have to be different.
'So the complaints or boasts they whisper each night will all be different.'
So with my brush, I placed their halos of light one by one.
"It looks just like pointillism."
Up close, I will be able to tell which of you is struggling and hurting and which is joyful and happy.
From afar, I will be able to tell what you as a whole want to say to me, and when I should come to comfort you and talk.
"Nice."
It also looked like a flower garden blooming on the surface of the water.
Perhaps because it was painted with paint I made myself, I could feel an unidentifiable freshness, even though it was clearly water.
"Good."
Or like fireflies, or the forest butterflies that resemble the sunlight and moonlight wandering this place.
Perhaps it resembled the sparkle of a transparent light reflected on a glass window.
"...."
When I had painted all of their emotions, the lake was tinged with a golden light.
"…I think it's good."
The pleasure of pulling something from my imagination into reality was beyond words.
This lake will be located a little far from the cabin, and also clearly separate from the spring.
The trees bordering the edge of the lake will still maintain their greenery.
"During the day, it will be blue."
When you scoop up the water, it will be as clear as if it holds the sky, its inside a chilling blue like the sea, and the glistening ripples that sparkle when the sunlight hits will look almost white.
I wonder if all these water birds will hide and move there, and sometimes, when bored, pop their heads out to play pranks.
"At night, you'll sparkle as you please…."
Sparkle like water made of mist.
"You'll be spawning light."
Like newborn babies who giggle at the slightest breeze, you will all shine brightly.
Imagining that made me feel very good.
"...."
Tap.
When I tapped the canvas, the painting soon disappeared.
Maybe it was my imagination, but the scent of water flowed from afar.
It was a scent so gentle that just smelling it made me want to lie down on the moss and fall asleep immediately.
'For a scent to come from plain water, is it a similar feeling to the white wood spring.'
The bird on my shoulder flinched upon smelling that scent and the bird sitting on the canvas fluttered.
Flutter—!
Flit, flit!
Swoooosh—.
Click, clack!
Splash…!
The many birds that had been hanging from the light fixture flew out through the open window.
Their energetic wing beats were like those of migratory birds returning to their homeland, so cool like a breeze blowing from the seaside that….
"...."
I really liked it.
The water birds probably would too.
-x-X-x-
"It's completely hardened."
I picked up the Mangdung Fruit that had been drying in the cabin's yard.
"…And it's not yellow, either…."
The shine, with its glossy metallic luster, truly gave off a color like that of gold.
Its size, weight, and shape all looked just like an ugly piece of gold dust.
"Just when did I start walking the path of an alchemist."
It was fascinating that the plump, juicy red fruit had changed like this.
"Is the color similar to sunlight, perhaps."
The fruit, hardened enough to be ground into powder, didn't look like food.
But knowing that it could be made into medicine, I tilted my head in wonder as I put all the dried fruits into a glass jar.
Coming inside the cabin, I received help from the System for the first time in a while.
"Seeking a knowledgeable friend who can tell me how to make Blood Dumplings."
Elixir Recipe: A good medicine for bleeding and its recovery can be made by grinding the fully dried fruit into a powder, mixing it with the juice of a Rurupu to make a dough, forming it into dumplings, and drying them in a dark place for over a week.
"Right, that knowledgeable friend was right here. It was a well-founded confidence."
Today's content.
Making Blood Dumplings, good for recovering from bleeding.
"Ta-da."
Wasting time on productive work was a very enjoyable thing to do.
For me, who liked to make and grow things, such tasks were not bothersome at all.
'To be in a cabin where the sunlight leisurely streams in, making dumplings with my hands.'
It hit my preferences exactly.
I took the ingredients and headed to the workshop.
"I'm not going to paint, but there's no better place than this for working."
As the workshop was quite spacious, as long as I carefully avoided the paints, I could make full use of the workbench. I placed all the ingredients on the workbench I had cleaned beforehand.
"...."
After washing my hands, I hesitated.
"…Should I just grind it into a powder like I did when making pigments? Is this the narrow-minded thinking of an art teacher who has only handled art supplies? But though it's called a 'dried fruit,' it's almost as hard as a mineral…."
Caught in a moderate panic, I unknowingly fiddled with the dried fruit.
Surprisingly, a sense of calm washed over me.
"It's warm."
The sun always shone brightly in the forest where the days were continuously clear.
As could be felt from its cozy color, the warmth of the sun could also be felt from the well-dried Mangdung Fruit.
It wasn't just a simple warmth on the skin; there was a gentle heat that seemed to seep into the blood vessels within.
"This is the power of a sun-dried fruit…. Amazing."
My heart, having received that energy, began to beat leisurely and clearly, just like during a lazy afternoon nap.
It felt as gentle as rolling around in a blanket filled with the scent of sunshine.
"...."
Bang—!!
I slammed the hammer down.
"It's harder than I thought."
Slam, crack!
"From next time, I shouldn't dry them whole like this…."
Cruuunch….
"Should I grind them first and then dry them."
Snap, thud.
"But then it would be hard to trap all the juice inside like this."
With a dull sound, the fruit that had been as hard as a mineral shattered.
"...."
This should be enough.
'Let's put it in a bowl and grind it.'
I nodded my head.
I was someone who made pigments using all sorts of hard things, from gems to bark.
Naturally, the bowls would get scratched or broken, so I had made several in advance to prepare for such cases.
Among them, I brought a particularly clean glass bowl and began to crush the fruit.
Griiind, grrrind.
"My, what is this hardness…."
Even though I had broken it into small pieces, it made a sound that made me think, 'Is this right?'
No matter how I thought about it, it seemed true that I had awakened as an alchemist.
'Do I need to make a millstone later?'
Judging by this insane hardness, it was possible that I had dried it for too long.
"I might have been complacent, thinking that the forest's ingredients don't spoil."
One of the characteristics of this forest was that foodstuffs and crops would neither wither nor spoil.
It was the same with cooking.
A world where food never gets moldy; it seemed like it would be the dream of every chef.
But with this fruit, I learned for sure that this state does not last indefinitely.
The Mangdung Fruit, left for a long time, did not spoil, but it continued to dry in that state and had become excessively hard.
"...."
Is that why it came to hold a warmer energy?
'…I'll have to think about this a bit more. I'll only know what results come from insisting on a certain method by trying it myself.'
A gentle warmth that couldn't be felt in ordinary fruits was felt from the dried fruit.
Recalling that it had been an ordinarily dried fruit until about a week ago, it certainly seemed to have its own unique characteristic.
Anyway, it was funny and nice. Now I could go around saying I had transmuted gold.
"This should be enough."
Sshhh….
It was a moist powder.
"It looks just like snow."
The kind of snow that clumps together well.
It was dried so intensely that I thought it couldn't possibly be any drier, so where was this subtle moisture coming from?
Perhaps there was no moisture at all, and I was mistaken due to the strangely sticky, powdery texture.
"…Hmm."
When I tasted a bit of the powder, I felt my body warming up and a sweetness spread across my tongue.
"...."
I blinked twice.
"…It would be delicious if I add it when baking."
In the past, when sugar was precious, commoners were said to have used powdered chestnuts found on the roadside instead of expensive sugar or strongly scented honey.
They said its nutty flavor and subtle sweetness went well with various foods and they even made crêpes with it.
"There's no reason I can't do it."
The powder of the Mangdung Fruit, fully ripened in the sunlight, had almost lost its original sourness, leaving only the rich sweetness characteristic of dried fruit.
The sweetness was very intense, but it also had a clean taste like grains or eggs.
It was something I hadn't felt when eating a freshly picked Mangdung Fruit, to the point where I wondered, 'Is this perhaps the taste of the sun?'
"The fruit's unique flavor might be too strong to use in meals, but it would suit sweet pastries like crêpes or madeleines topped with whipped cream or ricotta cheese. It would go well with the cool lemon scent of the Mangdung Fruit, too."
One could be called a true pig only when one thought of food while washing, eating, and sleeping. In that sense, I was indeed a pig.
"I should dry them in advance."
The Mangdung Fruit, packed with pulp, was even more so with moisture.
Should I say it felt like drying a Kyoho grape-sized jelly?
'If I want to use this powder for cooking too….'
It seemed wise to dry a large quantity in advance.
'Since it will take quite a bit of time.'
After turning all the fruits into powder, I lifted the glass jar.
"I might fail, so let's put most of it away and then try. A person must always live with failure in mind. That is the shortcut to a long life."
I left only enough powder to make a sphere smaller than a marble sold at a stationery store.
After organizing all the Mangdung Fruit powder, I lifted the jar next to it. Inside, something shimmered with depth, like a transparent galaxy.
"...."
It was the juice of the Rurupu, the flower of the spring, which I had made a while ago.
"…Of course, it wouldn't have spoiled…."
The Rurupu juice in the glass jar somehow resembled the spring where it had grown.
Should I say it was similar to water that held the sunlight?
Or should I say it held a slightly warm moonlight?
The juice of the Rurupu, which had materialized the light it had held in its body its entire life to make its own blood, was difficult to describe as merely water with glitter in it.
'…It really looks like a galaxy. I wonder if this is what it would feel like if the Milky Way was reflected on the shallow water of the white wood spring.'
Perhaps because it was so visually pleasing, after staring at it for a long while, I finally muttered.
"It's beautiful."
I dropped the Rurupu juice onto the pestle filled with the finely ground powder.
I had only dropped a few drops, but the powder was soon thoroughly soaked, turning a deep golden color.
The powder, combined with the cool blueness unique to the Rurupu that gave a sense of moisture, had a strangely chilly aspect.
"…It looks like wet gold dust."
After a moment of thought, I pressed the powder here and there, then soon brought it to my hand and gently rolled it.
The attempt was timid, so it was very small, but a dumpling was completed nonetheless.
"...."
It looked just like a bead made of real gold.
"...?"
Shouldn't this be called a Gold Dumpling instead of a Blood Dumpling?
"Well, anyway."
Having gotten a feel for the moisture of the powder and the wetness of the juice, I proceeded to make the dumplings one by one.
Perhaps thanks to my experience of tearing and eating sujebi and making honey rice cakes at home, some pretty decent dumplings came out.
I was able to make a total of 15 dumplings.
"...."
I felt a momentary sense of emptiness that all the Mangdung Fruit powder I had painstakingly ground was used up. Life was bitter.
There was a subtlety of life in this.
"…But there's still juice left."
Since the powder itself was quite moist, I couldn't use up all the Rurupu juice, which spread with absurd ease.
In the end, I had consumed not even half a jar, but only about a third.
"What should I do with this."
It was at that very moment, as I was pondering this.
"...."
"...."
"Uh…."
My eyes met with a water bird that was sitting by the workshop window.
"Uh, wait a minute."
Click clack clack!!
"No."
Splat—!!
The Rurupu juice was stolen.
"...."
What is this.
The sight of a water bird puffing up its body to its fullest and enveloping the large glass jar with its whole body.
"...??"
I was flustered by its greedy form, which looked just like a slime that would appear in a game.
"What are you going to use that for."
The sight of it swallowing a jar three times its own short and stout body was amusing, but I was genuinely curious as to why it was doing this.
"What on earth did you show such proactiveness for when you can't even swallow it all."
Clatter….
"This isn't something that can be solved by being stubborn, I'm telling you the glass jar is bigger than your body."
Clatter!
"Do you see this part of the jar sticking out? You see it? I declare, you have the makings of a pig."
Click!! Claaack!!
"Such a distinct click-clack, what a novel performance art. You are truly my child."
Mainly the part about being mind-bogglingly nonchalant.
It seems genetics can be passed down through paint in this day and age.
"How do you plan to utilize that?"
I wondered what use a water bird could have for that, but the water bird, as if to show me, slipped right into the glass jar.
In the blink of an eye, the water bird was crumpled into the shape of the jar.
"Huh?"
And so, the water bird merged with the Rurupu juice.
"What the…."
"Gurgle."
"Did you speak?"
"Gurk."
"You made a sound?"
Did it evolve?
"...."
As expected, you are my child.
'Nothing ever goes as expected.'
When I turned the jar upside down and shook it out, the water bird, which had been trying to stick to it tenaciously for some reason, be it pride or something else, soon slid out with a gush.
Sluurp, pop!
Splat—!
"...."
"...."
The little guy, which fell with a cute sound like a toy store's liquid monster, was sparkling somewhere, having absorbed a great deal of the Rurupu juice.
"...."
"Gurk."
It could talk, and above all.
"…It's warm."
I could feel warmth.
"What happened."
"Gurgle."
"It's absurd and amusing, but I don't quite understand this harmony of events.
Life is indeed a series of contents."
"Grrrgle."
"Do animals evolve if they drink Rurupu juice? There was no change when I had a sip? Is this discrimination?"
Perhaps it was a change possible only because the water bird was a species born from my hands.
Logically speaking, it was impossible for a creature made entirely of water to gurgle as if it had vocal cords.
"It doesn't seem good for it to grow suddenly, it's not a bad change for its body, is it."
"Guuurggle."
"If so, that's a relief, but…."
I, who was contemplating life is an egg, soon affirmed this entire situation.
'It's fun, so that's all that matters.'
That's right.
In fact, I hadn't been thinking about anything at all.
I successfully concluded all my worries.
"Talking and flying water is truly amazing."
"Gurgle?"
"Its body color seems to have changed a bit too…."
Its transparent body had turned a pale yellow, like water mixed with gold dust.
The water bird that drank the Rurupu juice must have been one that usually carried gems often, as its sparkling body was filled with yellow and transparent gems.
It went well with the Rurupu's characteristic sparkle that resembled sunlight and moonlight.
"Hmm."
This coloration, no different in visibility from a yellow sign, could probably be seen even passing by on the KTX.
A creature filled with a brilliant and gentle coloration.
This seemed like it would definitely be a distinguishing feature from the other individuals.
"If it stands out this much, I can give it a name."
"Kurururuul?"
"You like that? That's a relief."
Soon, I spoke.
"My Golden Child…."
"...."
"The moment I said it, I felt that wasn't it. This dad sometimes misspeaks."
It was the first time I had seen water look so serious.
Even though I was its parent, there were things a parent should and shouldn't say to their child.
The naming sense of "Golden Child" seemed to fall into the latter category.
"...."
The Seo family, for generations, had no talent for naming.
I put more effort into my brain and seriously racked my head.
"Then how about… Honey."
"Gurk?"
"Because it's a sweet color."
The bird, tinged with a warm golden light, resembled the sunlight or moonlight, but it also resembled honey, from which a rich fragrance seemed to flow.
I stroked the slightly squishy and firm golden bird and said.
"This is as far as my naming sense goes."
"Gurgle."
"How merciful of you to not dislike it."
Honestly, I thought it would dislike it because its name was Honey.
'Does it not know what honey is because the meaning doesn't get through?'
That thought crossed my mind for a moment, but what could I do if it liked it.
I watched Honey, who was squirming back into the glass jar.
"Cute."
Just watching was healing.
"A cat squished in a box…."
"Grrrrumble."
"Does the sound get squished when the body gets squished? That's even cuter."
"Kyuruung."
"This is the epitome of cuteness."
As Honey finally squeezed its body into the glass jar, I picked it up.
The strangely lukewarm glass jar was just the right size and felt just like a hot pack.
'It has a sweet scent, too.'
My mind went blank, like watching a crackling campfire.
"Hmm."
As I quietly watched the warm and pretty glass jar that smelled sweet, a drowsiness like that of listening to a class after lunch on a spring day washed over me, and I became lethargic.
Eating and sleeping were a pig's duties and Honey seemed to be the same.
"...."
I put the glass jar inside my outerwear without closing the opening.
"I'll take that as your agreement."
"Krrng."
The two of them, like laundry spread out to dry, sprawled out and fell asleep.
-x-X-x-
"...."
The moment I woke up, I said.
"…Fruit tea…."
I want a warm, sweet fruit tea.
"Let's make cheong."
And so, today's content was decided.
Making cheong wasn't that difficult.
Tools sterilized with love, fruit grown with affection and an equal amount of sugar were enough.
'Meaning, you need a whole lot of sugar, enough to make you think, 'Ah, this is the amount that will give me diabetes'.'
And most fruits could be made into cheong.
As long as they paired well, it didn't matter if two or more kinds of fruits were used.
"...."
The first fruit I decided on was the Mangdung Fruit.
"But with just this, I think it will be only sweet."
If there was a flavor needed to successfully make a fruit cheong—which is essentially sugar water infused with the flavor of fruit—the first was sourness, and the second was bitterness.
The sugar alone would already be sweet enough to make the tongue tingle, and if another sweet fruit was added, it would be nothing more than canned fruit.
I learned this fact after making cheong with overly ripe, sweet tangerines.
"That's delicious in its own way, of course."
But what I wanted right now was a fruit tea with a bitter taste, accompanied by sourness, based on a foundation of sweetness.
It wasn't a very difficult composition.
"I'll need a sour and bitter fruit to go with the Mangdung Fruit."
A combination I often made in reality was mainly strawberry and lemon.
Strawberries weren't entirely devoid of sourness, but they were generally soft and sweet.
In contrast, a lemon's flesh was sour and its peel was bitter, which used to add depth to the one-dimensional sweetness of such strawberries.
It was similar this time.
"Although it has some sourness, the Mangdung Fruit is on the sweeter side."
And since that sweetness was quite rich, I thought it would be good with a fruit that was sour like a lemon or astringent like a yuzu.
A fruit cheong with such a variety of flavors was especially satisfying when drunk as a warm tea.
"Honey."
"Kururu."
"Let's go."
With the golden water bird on my shoulder, I boldly set off on an adventure.
I spoke to Honey, who had at some point moved into the basket.
"I could just draw and create something like a lemon or yuzu, but the foods created that way are all just so-so in taste… so it's better to harvest them directly like this."
"Kururuk?"
"It's better for my own satisfaction, and better for the fruit cheong that will be made. If possible, I want to try using a unique fruit from this forest rather than a fruit with a weak flavor."
I could create food by drawing a picture.
But strangely, the ingredients and food made that way were all somewhat bland.
It was fine to eat when my mouth was just bored, but I didn't want to use it for a dish I was set on making.
Vowing on the honor of my grandmother, who had been a big shot in our village, I resolved to make a fantasy-like fruit cheong.
"Thinking about that, farming doesn't seem like a bad choice either."
"Guk."
"As someone who is a sun-dried potato from Gangwon-do, I can see that the soil here is very suitable for farming. It's always a mild spring weather, but it's not like the wind doesn't blow, and although it has never rained, the soil is always moist and there are streams everywhere. It's a good environment for watering, too."
"Kuuuuuk…."
"I don't have any seeds or seedlings, but I think I can get help from Mr. Yu Seong-un for that part. To receive something from beyond the painting, I'll have to give something in return, but I can give as much as needed…."
A human life where unlimited content was guaranteed had this kind of onion-like charm.
Even if it didn't seem like it, if you just squeezed, you could always find something to do.
"Nice."
Excellent. Isn't this kind of freedom the greatest happiness of an unemployed life?
"It would be hard for a crop grown with my own hands, full of the energy of Gangwon-do's mountains, to not taste good. Right?"
"Kururururu."
"It really feels like I've started a life in the countryside. I should have been living this peaceful and warm life long ago…."
Seo Jio recalled his hometown, where he could interact with all sorts of nature as a child.
"I liked helping with various tasks since I was young. Thanks to the elders setting up all sorts of things, I tried beekeeping, dug up wild ginseng, and even met a wild boar…."
"Gurk?"
"I'm not talking about poaching. I literally ran into it, and we parted ways well without anyone getting hurt or dying. I think I met it thanks to someone who was wandering the mountains collecting mushrooms and ginseng."
There wasn't a single person who didn't have a vegetable garden, and there were also people who raised chickens, ducks, or quail on a small scale.
I had fond memories of making cheese with fresh milk from a farm of an acquaintance of an acquaintance, or simply enjoying it with a bit of honey.
I was a person who had done almost everything a human could do on land.
"There's no way someone like me can't handle a bit of farming."
Grandma, please watch over me.
"I will prove my talent in the name of our village."
"Grrrng?"
"I was taught not to bet my own name on things like this."
It was my grandmother's firm belief that if you thought you couldn't do it, you should use an elder's name.
"Of course, I don't think she meant for it to be used in situations like this."
Interpretation was up to the individual.
"So what kind of seeds should I ask for…."
"Kuru?"
"…First, potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn are an absolute must."
My floodgates had opened.
"They aren't representative staple crops around the world for nothing, so it's good to grow them in case of an emergency. And I want to grow radishes too. It's especially delicious when you pull out the tender radish sprouts, still like young shoots, and mix them with rice, soy paste, and oil."
"Gurk, kururu."
"Pumpkin? Pumpkin is great. Large, aged pumpkins are good for making porridge, small and sweet kabocha squashes are delicious simply boiled and drizzled with honey, and long and plump zucchinis, when added to soup, are moderately savory and fill you up. You know your stuff."
There were many other things that came to mind.
"Like lettuce?"
"Gung-gung-gung…."
"It's surprisingly good. It's easy to grow, and you can tear off a well-grown leaf, put it over rice with just some soy paste, and you've got a meal in a snap. Or something like bok choy is good when boiled in a clear broth."
"Kururuk."
"Green peas would be good too. Ah, cherry tomatoes… I like those too. Any proper vegetable garden must have at least one tomato plant growing."
Having spoken that far, I looked down at the basket in my hand.
"...."
"Kuru."
"Aha."
I saw Honey spread out inside the basket like a spilled liquid monster.
"Right."
It's cute, so it's fine.
Honey was a bird that mainly held gems.
The gems filling the basket, where a golden liquid shimmered as if thick honey had spread, were quite a sight to behold. It seemed that it wouldn't be boring with it around.
As I chattered on about my future farming plans, I soon stopped in front of a certain tree.
"Ah…."
A pitch-black tree.
It was a tree made of obsidian.
"I found this first."
Star Flower Tree
A living obsidian tree.
It grows by absorbing the starlight reflected on its body.
The flowers of the Star Flower Tree bloom every dawn from the absorbed light and obsidian residue, and the flowers of this tree are effective in treating burns and frostbite.
The tree's sap and bark are mainly used as materials for works of art.
Elixir Recipe: The bud just before the flower blooms is good for frostbite, and the fully bloomed flower is good for burns. It can be used after boiling it in water until soft and then soaking it in the sap of a Dorongdorong Leaf for ten days. Be warned that consuming the flower without the above process will cause burns and frostbite.
"...."
Staring at the automatically appearing description, I blinked twice.
"Did I use too much obsidian paint last time?"
A considerable amount of obsidian powder was consumed in the process of creating the water birds' habitat.
It was a frequently used material to create a transparent texture like water or glass and it would be good to collect some on this occasion.
I looked for the chisel and hammer in the basket. They were tools that didn't quite fit the word 'gathering', but for collecting from the Star Flower Tree, there were no better helpers.
"Wake up, son. Your lazy appearance is very cute, but Dad has to work."
"Kurururuk."
"This isn't your kind of thing anyway. Give it here. That's right."
After gently coaxing Honey, who was playing with the tools, and retrieving them, I placed the basket on the ground and approached the obsidian tree.
I touched the branches of the obsidian tree, checking their temperature and moisture.
I felt a faint warmth, as if proving it was alive, and the sap flowing like blood between it.
"Perhaps…."
I looked for a dead branch among them.
"Is it this way."
A branch with an unusually chilling aura, which sharply reflected light rather than sparkling and felt completely solid without a hint of moisture.
I fiddled with its boundary to confirm, then brought the chisel and hammer close.
And then, tap, tap.
"...."
Ching…!
"Got it."
The obsidian branch came off easily with a clear sound.
A branch that was still alive couldn't be removed as easily as this.
It was excessively hard and the sticky sap inside was entangled, so it wouldn't break easily even if I tried to smash it.
'And obsidian that hard is inconvenient when making paint, too.'
A living branch with gooey sap flowing from it was also difficult to make into a clean powder.
Unless the purpose was to make sharp knives or arrowheads or to extract sap, it was best to pick out the dead branches as much as possible.
"That would be better for the tree, too."
Although it was an obsidian tree with a glassy texture like this, it was still alive.
It was a tree that even bloomed flowers that would become excellent medicinal ingredients, so removing the dead branches would be a relief for the tree as well.
I was careful not to let the weakened dead branch shatter into pieces, and broke the long branch into several pieces.
The obsidian fragments, holding the chilling energy of the stars in the night sky, all went into Honey's stomach inside the basket.
"Are you going to carry it?"
"Kurururururu!"
"Alright, let's do that."
It seemed like it was saving up for its independence fund in advance, but anyway, it was a bird that was truly fond of gems.
A true incarnation of greed, unbefitting of this clear and pure face.
'It can't resist a shiny pebble.'
It'll be a doer, not a victim. I raised my head again and looked at the Star Flower Tree.
"...."
The tree was a deep black that clearly reflected the sunlight, just like a mirror.
The chilling black obsidian, which looked like it should be seen on a snowy mountain where snow falls, blended well with the spring environment where flowers and grass bloomed vividly, perhaps because it was alive.
Occasionally, a forest butterfly, a being of light, would land on it.
After admiring the sharp and hard tree for a long time, I started moving again.
"…I need to find a fruit."
"Kyuruk."
"I hope there's a good one."
Fortunately, it wasn't long before I found a fruit that I really liked.
Drought Pot
A tangerine-like fruit with a light brown peel, cracked like a drought-stricken field.
It does not rot for nearly a year even after being harvested, so it is used as a preserved food during droughts.
It becomes sweet as honey if exposed to fire or left under the hot sun for 3 days, but it is sour and bitter when eaten raw.
It is rich in nutrients and canned food or soup made from it becomes an excellent nutritional supplement that can save a person on the verge of starvation.
Elixir Recipe: Process the Drought Pot into an edible form and consume.
"A nutritional supplement, huh."
That part is also very interesting, but.
"…Sour and bitter?"
I was drawn to this point more than anything.
'There's no mention of poison, so it seems there's no problem eating it raw, but just how sour and bitter is it for them to provide a separate method to eat it sweetly.'
I bravely picked the fruit.
Its size was just like a Korean tangerine, and its peel was a little harder, but the shape was similar anyway.
The flesh inside was also the same as a tangerine, except for the fact that it was a deep yellow like honey.
Sniff, sniff, after smelling the sour scent, I chewed one of the fruits without hesitation.
"...."
Gulp.
I calmly swallowed the fruit.
"...."
"Ku, kuru… kururu…."
"Right."
In response to Honey's nervous reaction, I nodded with my characteristic expressionless face.
My facial muscles, which had long since degenerated, did not succumb to this level of hardship and trial that occurred on my tongue.
"It's sour and bitter."
It was a taste that made me understand why the Elixir Recipe was merely 'Process into an edible form and consume.'
'Perhaps even the historical Sanyak was sweeter than this.'
It was a shocking stimulus, enough to make my mind go dizzy.
Barely holding onto my fading reason, I learned that the texture was firmer than a tangerine and it had less juice, but compared to its incredible taste, it wasn't a particularly bothersome point.
I took deep breaths for a while.
"...."
Why was it that I didn't hate it? I gained confidence.
"With this, it won't lose to the sweetness of the Mangdung Fruit."
Honey, who was in the same basket, came out, disgusted.
It seemed the taste was too shocking for the sweet Honey to handle.
-x-X-x-
Fruit cheong is really easy to make.
"The preparation is a bit cumbersome, but if you just mix the fruit pulp and sugar half-and-half and let it sit, that's fruit cheong."
I brought over a glass jar that had been cleanly sterilized with friendship, peace, love and affection.
It was so large it was closer to a crock than a jar, but just like my grandmother who had been a big shot in the village, I had no intention of skimping on ingredients when cooking. It had to be this size.
"Now, let's see."
I washed the plump Mangdung Fruits and the sour and bitter-smelling Drought Pots cleanly in water.
The flesh of the Mangdung Fruit was soft like a delicate jelly and juicy, while the Drought Pot had little juice and firm flesh like an unripe tangerine.
The peel of the Mangdung Fruit was so thin it could melt, so I simply quartered it without any extra processing, and for the Drought Pot, I peeled off all of the outer white, translucent skin, leaving only the pulp.
"And…."
You just have to pour it in.
'It would be better to have the juicy Mangdung Fruit on top.'
At the very bottom of the glass container, I layered the Drought Pots, and sprinkled a little sugar on top.
Then, I placed the Mangdung Fruits on top of that and poured a generous amount of sugar to create a layer. Once the sugar layer was firmly formed, I just had to keep repeating the process.
I pressed down firmly to prevent any air pockets from forming between the fruit pulp.
"It shouldn't spoil."
The food in this forest didn't spoil or get moldy, but this process was necessary for the fruit pulp to mix well and for the sugar water to seep in.
I filled the glass crock without any gaps.
"All done."
All that was left was to seal it and store it in a cool, shady place for a few days.
"I hope it ripens quickly, but I suppose it will take some time."
"Gung-gung-gung."
"You can't eat it yet. If you take it out and eat it now, it's just fruit with sugar on it. Later, when the pulp becomes mushier and the fragrance seeps into the sugar water, then we can drink it as tea."
"Guk."
"Cooking is sometimes the art of waiting."
Honey grumbled and expressed its dissatisfaction, but it couldn't be helped.
It would take some time for the fruit cheong to fully ripen.
"It won't take that long. The weather here is warm, so the sugar will melt quickly. The juice will come out readily too."
"Gung."
"Don't get stuck to the floor, you'll get dusty. It's dirty. At this rate, you'll end up cleaning the entire floor of our house. You'll go from being a honey-bird to a dust-bird."
Having returned from an adventure for a successful fruit cheong, it was late and I was hungry.
It was time to covet a meal rather than a fruit cheong of unknown ripeness.
"Hmm…."
Should I go for something really simple?
"Let's make rice balls."
"Guk?"
"Can you eat rice too."
"Kururururururu."
"Where does what you eat get digested in this transparent body…."
As expected, Honey was full of the qualities of a pig.
As the father of this round pig-bird, I nodded my head with pride.
"Kurururu!!"
"Alright, I get it. Let's go."
The rice balls I was making this time were truly food in the most literal sense.
Freshly cooked rice with a little salt, a little sesame oil.
"It's a good thing I cooked the rice in advance."
The cabin had a stone oven, but no electric rice cooker. In a world without electricity in the first place, it couldn't be helped.
Because of that, I had already drawn a cauldron and placed it in the kitchen behind the cabin.
When I opened the heavy iron lid, white steam billowed up.
"Nice."
As I nodded, the steam that had been drifting around suddenly vanished without a trace.
"...?"
That's when Honey, who was next to me, caught my eye.
"...."
I wasn't sure if it was my imagination, but it seemed to have grown a little bigger for some reason.
"Kururu."
"…Don't tell me you're eating all the moisture rising from the rice right now?"
"Gung."
"You smell of freshly cooked rice. It's incredibly savory; if I sleep next to you, I'll be too hungry to fall asleep."
"Grrrng."
"I've seen people let steam onto their face for skincare, but this is the first time I've seen someone eat the steam itself…."
Is this what they call 'give it to your stomach, not your skin'?
"How novel."
The sweet scent unique to Rurupu juice and the savory smell of freshly cooked rice were mixing.
I couldn't for the life of me define what kind of scent it was.
With a restless feeling, I scooped out the rice.
No matter how surprising, a living creature ought to eat.
"Let's make porridge with the scorched rice stuck to the bottom. It's a very comforting food, so it's good to have anytime. I've never seen anyone get an upset stomach from eating this."
"Kuru."
"First, let's make the rice balls and do that later. Scorched rice porridge is really refreshing when you eat it in the morning right after waking up, when you're still half-asleep."
Returning to the kitchen, I sprinkled a little salt and sesame oil over the fluffy rice.
The cabin's cupboard was stocked with all the basic ingredients, so there was no need to worry about this and that.
'What will happen when I use all of this up.'
It would be fun if it refilled automatically like when I first checked the cabin and even if it didn't, it was fine since I could just draw new ones anyway. But it didn't seem to be refilling yet.
I gently mixed the hot rice with chopsticks and seasoned it.
"Actually, it's delicious even just like this."
The unique smooth and savory taste of freshly cooked rice, the rich aroma of sesame oil gently enveloping it and the rice ball lightly seasoned with salt—if you ate it right after making it, it was incredibly warming.
"It's a good meal for when you need to eat but don't want to make anything grand."
"Kururururu."
"You can have some too if you can eat it. I'm not sure how you eat… was the steam from the cauldron not enough? You look bigger, but you're not already full?"
"Kururuk."
"Alright, then have some."
The sight of water eating rice.
'It seems like it'll be fun, so let's just leave it be.'
I resolved inwardly and made the rice balls.
About 39 in total.
"...."
"...."
"Dad is hungry."
"Kurururuk…."
"It's because I'm hungry."
I was a big eater.
"I need to eat a lot like this sometimes to feel full and satisfied."
But I didn't stop there.
"I'm going to grill them once for the texture. A rice ball that's golden brown on both sides has a great texture, and the savory taste becomes deeper."
"Gung…."
"I'm not sure if it's because the sesame oil aroma gets stronger or because the grains get toasted… but grilling it like this is much more delicious than just eating a plain rice ball."
"Guk-guuung."
"Well, I guess eating just rice would get a bit boring."
I lamented the situation brought on by my own laziness.
I knew a day of regret like this would eventually come.
"I should have made some side dishes in advance. Then I could have enjoyed a more varied meal even with just rice."
"Keeeeuuuung…."
"It would be nice to make a stew with the fish caught from the lake, or it would be good to mix various things to make some jeotgal. It would be nice to have something like a meat soup, but it's a bit difficult to eat meat here."
If I were to hunt a land animal instead of a fish, not only did I not know how, but I was also reluctant to eat the cute and round animals that suited my taste.
In the first place, I didn't know how much meat would even come from their small, round bodies.
"Should I ask Mr. Yu Seong-un for this too."
"Kurururururu."
"Along with the seeds, right?"
I placed the well-shaped rice balls on the sufficiently heated pan on the stove.
With a sizzzle— sound, the rich aroma of sesame oil and the savory smell of crackle-crackling grains rose together.
'A simple but good combination.'
After grilling all the rice balls, I sat at the table and took a bite.
"...."
As expected, it was delicious.
'…Maybe it's because the rice was cooked perfectly firm, but thanks to grilling it once, both the texture and aroma are great. The salt seasoning is just right, so I'm not getting tired of it.'
The rice used here was something I had drawn, so its quality was neither very good nor bad.
Therefore, it was a bit difficult to expect much from the power of the ingredients, but the rice ball was quite delicious nonetheless.
"Is it because it's a meal after labor."
"Kurururururung."
"...."
A rice ball-shaped bird came into my field of vision.
"Oh."
No, it was Honey who had swallowed a rice ball.
"Good heavens."
"Kururuk."
"You swallowed this."
"Kurururuuung."
"Even though it's bigger than your body."
I understood three seconds later.
"That's funny."
"Guk."
"While we're at it, do you want to eat another one? Can you get even bigger from here."
"Kururureum."
"Right, it probably hasn't been digested yet. Of course. It looks that way."
"Kuru?"
"Yeah, Dad knows everything."
And so, a peaceful day passed.
***
"...."
Thud….
Yu Seong-un, in front of the portrait, tilted his head.
"It hasn't been opening its eyes lately."
He had waited from midnight until the current time of 5 a.m., but the portrait never opened its eyes.
Yu Seong-un stroked his chin with his fingers and muttered.
"It seems there are no particular rules about this part."
The portrait used to open its eyes by choosing the time when there were the fewest staff members.
The time when he could have a conversation changed from day to day.
As long as one didn't ask rude questions, it wouldn't necessarily run away, but it wasn't always looking outside the painting either.
It seemed that he liked the world inside that portrait.
'Personally, I think that's the wiser choice.'
However the world inside the portrait was realized, it would be much better than watching the dirty and complicated modern society.
At least, that's what Yu Seong-un thought.
"…Thinking of it that way…."
Perhaps 'Jio's Portrait' liked quiet things.
"This could be considered one of the rules."
Yu Seong-un sat leaning against the wall in front of the portrait and took out a notepad.
'I need to keep a record.'
His job was to observe, analyze, maintain, and manage unknown objects or phenomena.
For Yu Seong-un, who had vast knowledge, 'Jio's Portrait' was almost the first subject he had paid this much attention to.
Fortunately, 'Jio's Portrait' was a relatively friendly entity to humans.
It answered when asked questions, and its manner of repaying favor with favor could be called quite gentlemanly.
"Is it roughly getting organized."
Thanks to that, the analysis was not that difficult.
Values etiquette. Enjoys giving gifts.
No change in expression (Is it because it's a portrait?) .
Knows humans well and respects them.
'…This part is definitely peculiar.'
Although he had not yet figured out Jio's identity, he had to be cautious.
There was a reason why human-type monsters were designated as the highest-risk elements, regardless of their attitude.
'It's because those guys knew almost nothing about humans.'
11 years ago, the first human-type monster friendly to Earthlings was witnessed.
Based on this, associations in various countries sought ways to interact with the residents beyond the dimensional gate.
However, an incident occurred where the bodies of the delegation that crossed the gate for the sake of friendship returned as 'healthy deformities'.
'The human-type monster at that time had expressed it as its own favor….'
In the view of the human-type monster, the delegation's bodies had many inefficient parts, so it increased their legs to four or split their mouths into six.
It was a favor, but at the same time, it was a disaster for humans.
The saying that a monster is a monster for a reason was born then.
"It's terrifying to think about again."
After that incident, human-type monsters also became targets of extermination without exception.
No matter how much favor they held for humans, it was because there was no way of knowing in what way, or when, their terrible true nature would be revealed.
'So I want to be wary of this portrait, but there are many suspicious parts to do so. Jio knows too much about humans to be called a typical human-type monster. He doesn't unconditionally hate the creatures of Earth, either.'
He is not very friendly to humans, but he is not very hostile either.
A little cynical, yet at the same time polite and considerate.
'Jio's Portrait' seemed just like an ordinary human who was just seriously stoic.
"...."
Tap.
Yu Seong-un pressed his pen against the notepad.
"That part is even harder to understand."
Jio did not seem like a mere monster.
'Anyone other than a Curator or a Gardener would say, so what if it's not, it's still a monster, but….'
Still, there was no certainty.
"Yes, it could really be a monster."
It could be an item with a consciousness, just a cursed portrait, or perhaps a hallucination of a level so high we couldn't even imagine it.
'It's only been about 30 years since dungeons appeared, so we can't possibly know everything.'
Therefore, Yu Seong-un's best course of action for now was just to analyze and respond to this portrait.
"Hmm…."
First, there was something he was curious about.
The eyes in the portrait seemed distant, not like those of a human, and the handsome appearance of someone not of this world, along with the pale yet stimulating colors, gave a strange sense of unreality.
'That business-like tone like an AI and the unchanging expression would have added to that pressure.'
However.
"All things considered, Jio is still a gentleman."
As can be seen from the rules organized earlier, Jio was by no means a threatening or violent entity, judging by his actions so far.
As shown by his deep understanding of humans, he was clearly considerate and respectful of them.
'Unlike the ignorant human-type monsters so far, he is thinking from the perspective of humans.'
That means he has a deep level of understanding that cannot be seen in other monsters.
'And based on that, he is expressing his goodwill and being considerate.'
Didn't he even give gifts?
"...."
After pondering for a moment, Yu Seong-un wrote a new sentence in his notepad.
Prefers good or polite individuals (A 1:1 rule?)
'…It's not certain, but.'
Looking at the people Jio had given gifts to so far, they were all people he was indebted to or who had treated him favorably.
As a portrait that could distinguish between human good and evil, he thought it might like kind and well-mannered people.
'Well, anyway.'
That's not what's important.
"…The problem is why the other employees ran away so terrified…."
The employees here were all people that Bisabeol had insisted on raising one by one or had poached from elsewhere.
Bisabeol's collecting habit manifested not only with objects but also with people, and Bisabeol, who had a strong attachment to his employees, would not have chosen foolish or incompetent people.
So, no matter how low-ranking the employee, would Bisabeol have been careless in choosing the staff to manage his beloved gallery? They were all strong-willed and competent people.
"And yet, upon encountering Jio, they were frightened and pressured."
Yu Seong-un had never directly encountered Jio.
The last time he came out, Yu Seong-un had merely followed and monitored him from behind.
Therefore, what he felt from Jio when faced head-on… he could not know.
He could only vaguely guess.
"...."
That if one could pressure humans just by existing, the level of its soul must be immense.
'…In that case, should I be thankful that it is sleeping quietly inside the portrait?'
Yu Seong-un let out a deep sigh with a troubled look on his face.
"That Bisabeol, what on earth did he bring…."
Is he finally planning to destroy the Earth?
It was a day that tempted him to pick up the cigarettes he had quit 5 years ago.