Confirmed: Palette residents have been erased.
Confirmed residents: Aria, Iser
"..."
Would you like to reassign them to the Palette?
[Yes/No]
"Yes."
Color: 'Aria' successfully reassigned.
[Gray]
Color: 'Iser' successfully reassigned.
[Sky Blue]
....
....
...I like it.
***
The hunters all agreed that this disaster had been especially tricky.
"A living sea... gave me chills, seriously."
"Even when we froze it, it kept pulling water up from the depths. I got completely drained."
"Even the mermaids seemed worn out, though less so over time..."
What made it manageable was that an unusually skilled group of hunters had been deployed for this war.
They did everything they could to stop the deep-sea water from drowning the plants they had managed to sprout, and the plants grew steadily, obeying their master's command.
"Still, it was honestly kind of cool."
"Not something a human could normally create."
"That was insane... for real."
The sea garden crafted by human hands was a sight few would ever see again.
"If the dungeon assault team hadn't responded as fast as they did, even the suppression team would've had a rough time."
Aria, the humanoid monster who had slowly stolen away Earth's oceanic power, had shown great agony twice during the standoff.
"The first time was supposedly when Hunter Sergio broke free from his restraints and the shock damaged her, right?"
"The second time was when the assault team destroyed the dungeon's heart..."
"But wasn't that also Hunter Sergio?"
"I heard he could see the heart of the dungeon while bound in his dream."
"To be planning an assault even under those circumstances... he really is something."
"If it were me, I wouldn't have even woken up, let alone planned anything."
"Hey, we wouldn't have made it that far to begin with. We'd have been dead in one hit."
In fact, the dungeon-clearing notification only popped up quite some time after Aria's form dissolved into the sea.
It must have taken a while for the influence she had on Earth's oceans to fully vanish.
And as always, cleaning up the mess was left to the humans.
"..."
"...What a goddamn mess..."
The hunters called in for post-battle cleanup couldn't help but groan at the devastated state of the ocean.
"Shit, let's just get this over with. We need to finish this if we want to go home."
"Has the Association contacted us yet? With things this bad, I'd expect some protests from other countries."
"Seeing as nothing's come through, they must be handling it well enough."
"Let's wrap this up while the Association's still doing a good job covering for us."
The ocean is so vast that even minor disruptions can ripple across the entire globe.
With glaciers forming like in the polar regions right off Korea's coast, climate problems were inevitable.
The hunters' immediate task was to suppress this "climate problem" as quickly as possible.
They worked to melt the enormous glaciers and forcibly restore ocean currents to their original state.
"Hey, but this..."
"Right? It's kind of a shame."
"Excuse me, Association staff—can we leave this part as is?"
"It must've taken a lot of work to create."
"Even if it's a battle scar..."
The hunters felt regret as they looked at the sea garden.
"Isn't this a pretty historic trace to just clean up and throw away?"
Backed by hunters and citizens alike calling it "mystical" and "a terrifying trace of war," the Association decided to preserve the bloom of flowers that had formed in the ocean.
It wasn't just beautiful—it also served as a warning about the risks of oceanic distortion, like a textbook or a canary in a coal mine.
"If something goes wrong in this flower field, it'll mean we've lost control over the sea."
"The public reaction hasn't been bad, and it's fine to leave some traces of war behind. People only really start thinking, 'We need to be careful,' when they see visible scars of disaster."
"The area to manage is going to increase, sure, but that's what dedicated departments are for..."
The Association was always proactive about things like this.
Though Korea was a very small country, its population was overflowing.
And to manage and control that population, the environment had to be engineered carefully.
This time was no exception.
The Association swiftly created a new department to manage the trace known as the "Sea Garden."
Employees were assigned to tend to the garden on a regular basis.
"Well, in a way, this is how we show off our national capabilities."
"If this cleanup goes well, more immigrants might come. It even looks good as a tourist site."
In a time when you never knew when you'd die, people wanted to belong to a country that could protect them.
More than just a cleanup, the image of a country that could turn the aftermath of war into something profitable gave South Korea a unique advantage.
"There were a fair number of hunters who died..."
"For those with families, offer both our sincerest apologies and our heartfelt thanks. Make the compensation generous enough that no one questions it. That's how we get our hunters to risk their lives again next time."
"Make sure the public doesn't start grumbling either. Aren't you tired of hearing complaints about regional and urban discrimination? Even if nothing changes in reality, people need to feel that they're being supported—it makes things easier in the long run."
"The people must always have the government and the Association to rely on. It's during times like this, when a huge crisis hits, that we gain the public's favor—you all know that."
"We've already talked with the guilds. When the time comes, they'll participate in donations for displaced citizens and national heroes. Especially the top three guilds—they were the first to speak up..."
Whenever a war of this scale breaks out, the government and the Association get swamped.
Given the small size of the nation, they could assess and respond to even the tiniest regions in detail.
But in another sense, there was also someone else who drew a lot of attention.
"Did you hear? Hunter Sergio..."
"They said he was kidnapped by the monsters during the recent war."
"No, not that—"
It was about the "Black Cloak."
"There's talk that he's a disciple of the Black Cloak."
"...The Black Cloak is a god? I thought he was a monster?"
Some didn't believe it, some accepted it immediately.
But thankfully, the Black Cloak's identity didn't cause public panic.
"I mean, sure, why not?"
In an age where individualism reigned and citizens were constantly isolated and struggling, they couldn't help but be affectionate {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} toward any creature that showed them kindness—even if it was something mysterious, even if it wasn't human.
"Judging by the snacks he hands out, he doesn't seem like a bad god, right?"
"Even if he's an evil god, he feeds people and gives tours..."
"How many people survived that goddamn winter thanks to the Black Cloak?"
"God or whatever—I just want to meet him and give him a treat."
"Some folks even got rich selling that stuff. It's like the lottery."
"Doing good increases your chances... A lottery with rigged odds..."
To the citizens of today, the Black Cloak wasn't a monster that needed to be hunted down.
He had become a gentle, eerie folktale nestled into Korean life.
And since he actually provided real help, no one called for his capture or destruction.
"Why gut the goose that lays golden eggs?"
"Hey, still, it's a holy being..."
"...Ah, right, right. Just saying."
Particularly, some eccentric fans eagerly awaiting the Black Cloak's next work were extremely vocal in his defense.
"I knew it! There's no way a being capable of crafting such a noble world could be just some monster!"
"I felt divinity in the uniqueness of those frames. I knew it—I just knew it. We can't sit still now."
"Shouldn't we form a group to protect the Black Cloak? Where else in the world does a divine being share their artistic realm like this? We have to act before someone tries to exploit it."
"He's a mystery who cherishes kind people—of course we need to prepare before some malicious parasites latch on. He's unexpectedly pure-hearted, too..."
These fans were already too deep in their delusion.
No amount of criticism could shake them now.
They were completely captivated by the thrilling relationship they imagined they had with this gentle yet ominous folktale.
And most of all, the idea that "the Black Cloak is kind to good people" only heightened their pride.
They believed they'd been acknowledged by him.
Some even felt a sense of duty.
Especially those who had been helped directly.
"If the Black Cloak hadn't saved me that day, I would've died. Just the thought of someone using him for evil... I can't bear it."
"We understand how you feel. That's why we have to raise our voices."
Although these movements existed, they were small.
A casual club at best—perhaps a salon.
Most people didn't think much of it.
In an era where fan groups sprang up for any cute or helpful monster, it was only natural that one would form around someone like the Black Cloak.
Just as a government forms when a country does.
"Well, they're all peaceful types anyway."
"Probably because the Black Cloak hates evil people."
"They say they even vet their own members thoroughly."
"They gather locally and do good deeds..."
"I heard some art fans even hold charity events. Some supposedly volunteer in person."
"Look at the rich throwing money around. That's rare. Those people usually treat lower-ranked citizens like insects, and now they're stepping forward themselves."
Some joined for fun.
Others earnestly hoped to be invited into his world.
And some followed with unwavering faith.
"A truly positive influence. If it's like this... do we really have to worry?"
As people came to terms with the Black Cloak's new identity, attention shifted to Hunter Sergio.
"So he's been a disciple of the Black Cloak all along. I wonder if that has anything to do with him being raised by the collector."
"They say the humanoid monsters kidnapped disciples of the Black Cloak during the war—but why? Apparently they made lots of remarks aimed at keeping the Black Cloak in check."
"One hunter in the assault team said they were obsessed with Hunter Sergio. Get this—he claimed the dungeon's heart looked exactly like Sergio..."
"What? Why would they do that?"
There were a few theories.
"I heard the 'Temple of the Deep' showed some backstory about the mermaids and their teacher. Supposedly, the mermaids became monsters after losing their teacher to humans. And they say Sergio looks a lot like that teacher."
"So they found a human who resembled their old master and tried to turn him into the same being?"
"I heard Sergio looked heartbroken after breaking free from his restraints. Makes sense—the mermaids tried to project their dead teacher onto him."
"If that's true, isn't it super creepy? Trying to force a dead person's identity onto a living human... That's exactly the kind of twisted thing a monster would do."
Others argued differently.
"Maybe he really was a similar existence. There's still so much we don't know about mysteries between dimensions. Reincarnation, for example—maybe Sergio is one of those."
"They say the teacher's name in the 'Temple of the Deep' was Batlan Giovanni. We don't know if he went by Gio, but even the names are close. Seems like fate to me."
"They were monsters who crossed dimensions committing heinous acts. Their hatred for humans must've run deep. If there'd been no connection at all, would they have shown such longing?"
"Even if they were trying to revive their teacher through his body, it still means they didn't direct that hatred at him. There must've been some link."
And yet others had this take:
"Maybe they just coveted a great vessel."
"Apparently they treated that priest-to-be, Cha I-Sol, quite respectfully too. So it's not like Sergio was the only one who dodged their usual hate."
"Sure, maybe the resemblance to their teacher played a role, but humanoid monsters are smart."
"They're the type that will work with humans if it suits their goals. Trying to claim Sergio, the Black Cloak's top disciple, could've been part of a bigger plan."
"They also belittled him, saying, 'He's just an ordinary human.' So clearly, they still held some basic resentment toward humans. To them, he was just a useful tool."
"At most, they saw him as a favored subordinate. Maybe they even tried to turn him into one of their own... But I don't think there was any real emotion behind it."
"Right. Sergio nearly came back as a living corpse the last time he visited the 'Temple of the Deep.' If they truly cherished him, they wouldn't have done that."
There were plenty of opinions, but three major theories emerged.
What was certain was that the Black Cloak was divine—and his disciples were Hunter Sergio and trainee priest Cha I-Sol.
"But it does feel a little... off."
"Huh? What do you mean? Everything seems settled..."
"Sure, I know the cleanup's going well, but still... why did this happen in the first place?"
"Dungeons and monsters don't need reasons to cause disasters."
"It's just that the fact that these were intelligent humanoid monsters—it sticks with me."
Some were worried about the actions of the mermaids.
"They specifically singled out the Black Cloak."
In a world with as many gods and religions as there were stars, it wasn't that they were hostile to all divinities—just the Black Cloak, who had only recently started appearing. That fact unsettled people.
"Well... maybe that just proves how kind the Black Cloak has been to humans. Maybe he got in their way because he protected us too much."
"Yeah, maybe so."
"I hope he helps again if another enemy appears. I heard he helped the assault team move after their submarine was destroyed..."
"Was that real? I thought it was just a rumor."
"Considering how he always hands out snacks, it might be true."
And then, Hunter Sergio vanished.
"Why?"
"Isn't he going to appear on TV?"
"Wasn't this basically his debut...?"
His fan club couldn't hide their tears.
With all he'd done, they figured he'd show his face at least once.
But all they got from the collector was, "Due to the recent kidnapping incident, Hunter Sergio has been severely injured and needs rest."
"Injured? What is he, fruit? A vegetable?"
"I heard they cling to him like a precious artwork..."
"He really lives up to his name."
The only one taking all the heat was Bisa Beul—rumored to be Sergio's 'father.'
***
Argio clicked his tongue.
"You'd think he'd be mad."
"Isn't it fun, though? This situation?"
"Oh, it is fun."
"Then why not play along a little?"
"Of course. If that's what you want, Father."
"How can the world have such a sweet sound?"
Bisa Beul beamed.
"Say it again."
"Father?"
"Ah, thrilling."
"What a darling family."
"Want some allowance?"
Forget the cleanup—Bisa Beul was fully basking in the moment.
A staffer who came in to submit paperwork turned around and left without a word.
He truly was a man living at 200%.
-x-X-x-
Traces of war were being erased one by one.
"Are you alright?"
No one knew if the Origin even had a body, but in any case, there could've been physical or mental damage.
"Any pain anywhere?"
"No, I'm fine."
"Hm... what about your mind?"
"That's fine too."
The pale portrait veiled in black paint answered in a mechanical, emotionless voice.
"Contrary to your concern, I was able to process it in my own way."
"Well, that's a relief, then."
Though he claimed forgiveness wasn't his to grant, Gio had still shown affection toward the mermaids, calling them "beloved disciples."
As long as personalities like 'Gio' existed, he couldn't be entirely devoid of human feelings, which was cause for slight concern.
...There's something eerie about it. Most humans in this situation would grieve deeply when someone they cherished dies, regardless of the sins committed...
He'd moved on quite quickly.
Maybe it's just the same reaction as not lingering on death itself?
Perhaps he was emotionally detached not only from his own death but from the deaths of others.
That calm acceptance of beginnings and endings made Yoo Seong-Woon quietly uneasy.
Truly, he thought, this must be what it means to be the Father of countless fates—an Origin.
"So, I'm glad to hear that, but."
"Is there another issue?"
"I just really wish you wouldn't go outside again."
"Am I banned from external activity?"
"Well... it's just something I'd like to see happen."
Yoo Seong-Woon gave an awkward smile.
"It's not like you'd listen even if we tried to stop you."
"My, how shallow the trust between us is. Even so, if I knew you were worried, I wouldn't dare disobey. I wouldn't go out if you asked me not to."
"Do you think I'm going to believe that? You've gotten pretty used to human society now—you're even good at lying. But I don't believe you. You're a free spirit, acknowledged by me, the heavens, and the universe itself."
"Amazing. However did you know?"
"This isn't exactly the way I wanted to confirm how close we've become. Anyway, what I mean is, I'd like to stop 'Hunter Sergio' from appearing in any official activities."
At Yoo Seong-Woon's words, Gio tilted his head inside the frame.
"Is that a request?"
"I'm so glad you understood that so clearly."
He looked completely uninterested in honoring that precious request, to the point where it brought tears to Seong-Woon's eyes.
"I'm ready. So what do you want to do now, our dear portrait?"
"I didn't really have anything in mind..."
"Nothing? Really? Can I trust you this time?"
"Sorry, something just came up."
"You're killing me here."
With a sigh that was almost a laugh, Yoo Seong-Woon showed his characteristic smile—his trademark capitalist grin.
"Then what can I do to help?"
"I can handle it myself."
"Whatever it is, you should run it through me first. It's very beneficial for human mental health if I act as a buffer. So I'm putting my hands together and begging you. Right now."
"You're quite firm. That's rather unlike you. I wonder if this is growth in an unexpected direction. You're starting to remind me of Joo-Hyun."
"I learned from Joo-Hyun that this much is acceptable."
"This is why humans learn so fast..."
For the record, Joo-Hyun wasn't here.
Yoo Seong-Woon had come alone to manage the gallery's works after a long time.
Joo-Hyun had been so worried about Gio being kidnapped that she collapsed from emotional strain.
Of course, Gio tried to deliver medicine, but she firmly refused.
She insisted humans grow by suffering.
Gio understood that well enough, but respected her opinion nonetheless.
"Anyway, it's not like I'm planning anything grand."
"Like that Demon King Project."
"I do have it in mind, but even I understand that's something grand."
"Well, good. So what do you actually want to do? You've been dragging this out—clearly something's on your mind..."
"I'd like to visit Healer Jeong Yeong-Won."
"...Ah."
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded, understanding.
"That's fine, just... try not to freak out too much if she suddenly starts crying."
"Isn't that the kind of situation where freaking out is inevitable?"
And so, Gio's next destination was decided.
Rest was good, but there were always things that needed to be done before one could truly relax.
***
A garden is a being far too noble to be compared with divinity.
To gaze upon its radiant form with mere human eyes is to realize the overwhelming grace it offers.
It resembled the vast universe, yet it was a living creature—shimmering with fate.
To be able to contain that within one's own body—what an honor that was...
"..."
"Jeong Yeong-Won."
"...Ah..."
"Would you like to speak with me?"
Her vision was crimson and black.
She still couldn't see, but the gentle voice dug into her mind.
"...Sergio..."
She crawled forward pathetically, groping with her hands.
"Gio, I... I..."
"I'm right here."
"What should I call you that wouldn't be blasphemous?"
Could such a vast and beautiful mystery be captured in a lowly human tongue?
The way the Garden bloomed elegant flowers to obscure her sight was clearly a teaching—a reminder to show reverence to the Origin.
"Black Cloak? Portrait? No... there must be a deeper, more rightful name for you..."
"You may call me Gio, Yeong-Won."
"Can I really dare to do that?"
"Of course. Aren't we friends who've shared many moves together?"
"To be called that by such a great being fills this weak one with joy."
He was truly close.
"May I kiss your feet...?"
"If we're friends, you wouldn't be doing that."
"It was an arrogant desire. I apologize for saying something so presumptuous."
"Please, speak more comfortably."
"Yes, Gio. I will."
Her fingers brushed against something cold.
"...Did the flowers the Garden bloomed please you?"
She didn't need to see.
She knew the room was filled with blossoms.
Even the floor she was crawling on was likely covered in noble, fragrant flowers that overwhelmed the mind with ecstasy.
"Does the sight of me receiving punishment offend your senses...?"
It was a conceited worry.
The Origin wouldn't be troubled by a mere human's suffering.
But she was aware of how much she had strayed from a proper form.
Since such an esteemed guest had come, she should've presented herself with proper dignity—yet she was foolish.
"If I may receive a bit of mercy... may I touch your hand... just once..."
"Would you like to shake hands with me?"
"Ah, thank you. You offer love so freely."
She felt the smooth, cold shape of his hand—like polished marble, sanded to perfection.
"It is a great honor..."
Tears welled up, bringing with them a sharp pain.
Warm blood flowed down her cheeks.
The Garden rejoiced.
The petals shimmered with life.
Leaves reached upward, green and full of light.
Soft, plush emotions—like dolls in a child's room—filled Jeong Yeong-Won's heart.
"Oh dear, you're bleeding."
"I couldn't help but shed tears at the grace of the Garden."
"Flowers bloomed instead of tears in your eyes, Yeong-Won.
It's beautiful, but doesn't look comfortable.
Are you in pain, or is that my mistake?"
"Of course not. Everything you see is true and righteous."
"You see me as a god."
"...I'm sorry."
"I understand, Yeong-Won.
The world is dark and full of pain—it's only natural.
Distorted senses are truly exhausting."
His cold hand slipped from hers and gently brushed her eyes as if cradling a bouquet.
"Then I'll take this flower with me."
In a flash—
The pain vanished.
"That is a truly beautiful flower."
"..."
"It smells wonderful."
"...Thank you."
Her vision returned.
"Thank you, Gio."
Eyes as deep and rich as fragrance looked back at her.
In the room now overwhelmed by flowers—even the ceiling lights were covered—his enormous gaze, cloaked in a black mantle, merged with the darkness.
The only thing clearly visible was the pure flower the Garden had bloomed through her... and the white hand holding it.
Yes. She could see the hand.
And the bare feet of the Origin, crouched to meet her gaze.
She could not see the face that inhaled the flower's scent from her eye.
But the eyes still watched her.
"..."
It was rapture.
"I... live inside fate... in the arms of the Garden... among the flowers..."
"I'm listening."
"I will meet my lowly human end within the merciful embrace of the Garden."
"And after that?"
"I will bloom again as another flower... and become one with the Origin..."
Inside those eyes, gleaming with destiny.
"...I will become one."
"That's quite a resolve."
"Thank you."
"Then it seems like it's time for you to sleep."
"Would you put me to sleep?"
"If you're not against it, I will."
"How could I be? I'd never refuse such grace."
"You're quite dramatic with your gratitude."
His large, pale hand fluttered down over her blood-soaked eyes like a butterfly.
Jeong Yeong-Won felt her heartbeat and blood flow slowly stabilize, like a lullaby.
She sank into sleep, embraced by the peace of the Garden.
Her even breathing lingered in the flower-filled room.
"..."
And Gio...
"...Hmph."
Looked down at the sleeping Jeong Yeong-Won with sincere pity.
Yoo Seong-Woon said not to be too surprised if she cried.
It wasn't just tears.
They were tears of blood.
A very sick person. I'll be understanding.
It was only natural for someone in pain to lose clarity of judgment.
Besides, Gio had once been called the living son of the sun due to his divine nature.
Praise like this wasn't new—it had followed him all his life.
There was no harm in going along with it.
When you're hurting, you need someone to lean on.
He understood.
Quietly, Gio left her bedroom so as not to wake her.
Not that he would've made a sound even if he hadn't tried.
***
"..."
"So, I've finished treating Jeong Yeong-Won as well."
"...I see!"
Joo-Hyun, still lying in her hospital bed, asked,
"Does anyone else know about what you did for Hunter Jeong Yeong-Won?"
"Yoo Seong-Woon knows, for starters."
"Anyone else?"
"You."
"Anyone else."
"Jeong Yeong-Won probably knows too."
Joo-Hyun's smile gained weight.
"Then, inside Eunwol Guild—where Jeong Yeong-Won's private bedroom is—people are going to discover that Hunter Jeong, who had collapsed from unknown reasons, was suddenly healed and peacefully asleep... right?"
"She usually doesn't allow anyone in when she's in that kind of state, so it should be fine. Even if she is discovered, only close work colleagues would be allowed in. I think she'll handle it discreetly."
"It really feels like you planned this out from start to finish... I can't even say it was wrong, but it's definitely bold and exceptional."
It was to the point of being dumbfounding.
"I know that even though Gio is unusual and incredibly capable, he still has a heart like any other human."
"That's an awfully long explanation for something simple. He is just human. He's above average in too many ways, so people get confused, that's all."
"We can sort that out later. Anyway, even with all that considered, Gio's appearance and abilities are definitely not normal. He knows that too, doesn't he?"
"I suppose that's true."
"And yet, you're saying it's fine to brush off Jeong Yeong-Won's long, heartfelt praise as just the rambling of someone in pain? At this point, you could at least accept it."
"I'm not a god to Jeong Yeong-Won, am I?"
"..."
Joo-Hyun was at a loss for words.
Gio continued, calmly presenting his argument.
"Above all, I'm different from those great and mighty gods with glorious histories. If they're like artisanal patisserie cakes with 300 years of tradition, then I'm more like a cheap sponge cake with whipped cream made by a student in their dorm kitchen."
"...What the..."
"So Jeong Yeong-Won's praise was misdirected—both in its target and its expression. She was in great pain. That's probably why she reacted that way."
Yoo Seong-Woon, who had been sitting quietly nearby, couldn't let that one go.
"Don't talk down about my portrait like that."
"I'm sorry, but I wasn't demeaning it. I was being objectively self-aware."
"Since when do you get to redefine what self-awareness means?"
This absurd portrait was clearly twisting the dictionary on purpose.
It was even more ridiculous because he knew exactly what he was doing and was playing around.
Yoo Seong-Woon was getting genuinely emotional now.
"You should try being humble in a different way for once."
"I'll take that under advisement."
"You're just going to take it under advisement, aren't you?"
"I'm truly glad we've become so close."
As the two bickered, Joo-Hyun held her aching head and asked,
"Why did you go to Hunter Jeong Yeong-Won in the first ❀ ❀ (Don't copy, read here) place?"
"She seemed to have overexerted herself during the dungeon assault, so I visited to thank her."
"I did hear that she played a major role in the recent war."
Even if one was a plant-type hunter, it wasn't easy to bring life to barren land.
That's why they usually carried seeds with them.
Even with that, forcibly manipulating life was difficult.
But Hunter Jeong Yeong-Won, though her primary position was healer, had a license as a plant-type hunter.
She had joined the field while cloaked deeply in her hood and succeeded in helping her colleagues create a blooming garden in the sea.
"Did you feel gratitude toward that?"
"Yes, I did."
"Then it makes sense that you'd heal her..."
By default, Gio's portrait followed a one-to-one rule.
If he received something, he had to return it.
It seemed that principle had applied here too.
"..."
Still, it couldn't have been easy.
"...Healer Jeong Yeong-Won is like you, Mr. Yoo. A gardener.
If a gardener suffers from the burden of their own garden, ordinary healing won't work, will it?"
"I suppose not."
"But Gio managed it. With just one touch."
"I did."
"At this point, wouldn't it make sense to admit that you're extraordinary?"
"I'm aware that I'm not ordinary. I'm not denying that."
Gio sounded genuinely frustrated.
"I just mean that I'm not worthy of Jeong Yeong-Won's praise.
I'm not the god she serves.
We don't even have a proper connection.
I haven't achieved anything so great that it would benefit all people."
That argument... sort of made sense.
"..."
"..."
If only the portrait weren't the Eye of the Origin.
"...Wait. Yoo Seong-Woon."
"Hm? Yeah?"
"Have you ever explained to Gio what he really is?"
"...I don't think I have. But... does he really need that explained?"
"Aha."
"You're telling me... you really didn't?"
Finally, they had uncovered the reason behind Gio's unreasonable stubbornness.
But even after listening to Yoo Seong-Woon's long explanation, Gio remained unshaken.
"Is that so important?"
"Knew you'd say that."
He clearly had no intention of backing down from the start.
-x-X-x-
"So you came to see me?"
Sanarae asked with his characteristic smile.
"You're worried because your way of thinking is too different from other people?"
"It's not exactly a worry."
"Then why did you come?"
"I just thought it was a fun topic to talk about..."
"Wow, how fun."
"Please don't try to end the conversation already."
Gio had come to visit the Haryeong Guild.
"After coming all this way, are you really going to coldly kick out a comrade who shared the battlefield with you?"
"Hmm, of course not. Do you know how much I like you, Sergio Hunter? This place is a wretched dump, but if Sergio Hunter wants it, I could give up a corner of my room."
"Rather than that, would you care to go shopping with me?"
"...Shopping?"
For the first time, Sanarae showed genuine interest.
"Hm, clothes? Accessories? Gear?"
"All of it."
"Deal."
Just like that, Sanarae fled the Haryeong Guild, leaving behind only a single note that read: 'I have kidnapped Sergio Hunter.' The guild erupted in chaos over the ridiculous message, but neither Gio nor Sanarae cared in the slightest.
Sanarae rented a private shopping room.
"Tada~ In here, nothing leaks out no matter what we say. And even if we die, I'll be the only one who dies, right?"
"I'll ignore that last part. Hmm, I think I was right to come find you, Sanarae Hunter."
"If ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) you want to shop, you have to come to me. No one's better at picking outfits than I am."
"I don't have many clothes, so I really needed someone to help me. I'm glad."
"Huh? You don't have many clothes?"
"Well, since I just draw portraits..."
"Oh, come on."
Sanarae, who had picked up a flashy suit, put it back on the rack.
"No matter how soundproof the room is, isn't this a bit too relaxed?"
"There's no point pretending modesty when we already know everything about each other, is there?"
"Your face changed completely. That red-haired person I saw before must've been you, huh?"
"You meet all kinds of people in life, some of them change colors just like that."
"If I argue with everything you say, I'll just tire myself out, so I'll let it slide for now."
Silence was half the victory anyway.
"I always thought you were just imitating humans really well, but I didn't realize you actually thought of yourself as one."
"Did you really not know?"
"Uh, I kinda guessed? I thought you were just really into the act of mimicking humans. Or maybe you still are? Anyway, what's the point? Are you upset your friends don't understand your true intentions?"
"I have a mouth, so I might as well say something: we already understand each other's sincerity. I just came to explore solutions."
"You're asking me, whose every human relationship is a trainwreck? Sergio Hunter, you're truly incredible—what a unique way of thinking. I should learn from you."
But it was intriguing, to be sure.
"Well, none of my kids are here right now."
"So you were intimidated by the Haryeong Guild members last time."
"If you say it so directly, it makes me feel like they'll retaliate, and now I'm scared again. Can't you at least promise, even in vague terms, that you won't hold a grudge against my family if I get a bit cocky? Oh, and you do know that humans die if you tap them too hard, right?"
"I have no intention of taking revenge on the Haryeong Guild. I'm just an ordinary human."
"Thanks for the first part, but the second part is the wildest thing I've heard all year."
"The year just started, hasn't it?"
"Spring's already here. What are you talking about?"
Sanarae rested his chin on his hand.
"So you're saying your power or divinity or whatever isn't a big deal to you? It's just a quirk, and people overrate it?"
"To sum it up, yes."
"Sorry, but it really is a big deal."
What exactly was the problem with this unknowable mystery?
"Do you hate being extraordinary?"
"I don't hate being ordinary either."
"Oh, in that kind of context..."
"It's not my fault I'm exceptional, is it?"
"If we really had to assign blame, wouldn't it technically be your fault, Sergio Hunter?"
"Are you failing to read the room?"
"You promised not to torment my guild members, right? Still, no matter how I think about it, I end up concluding that you're just really bad at self-objectivity."
Or maybe he was just not doing it on purpose.
"It's a fact that you're tremendously incredible. And humans are wired to respond differently depending on the being's rank or power. From where I stand, the one being unreasonable is you, Sergio Hunter."
"That's a fair assessment."
"Aha."
So that was it.
"You're basically telling me to shut up and play along, huh?"
"You just figured that out?"
"Spare me."
"I won't kill you."
"Spare me gently."
He didn't want to end up half-dead over something other than battle. But since Gio had promised not to mess with his family anymore, Sanarae wasn't as scared as he used to be. He assessed the situation as objectively as he could.
"But if you really want to live among humans, you do have to care somewhat about how they see you. Otherwise, you'll have to go around altering their perceptions or brainwashing them..."
"How barbaric."
"Cleaning up after barbarism is Haryeong's specialty. Anyway, I do get that you truly care about humans, Sergio Hunter. I understand your point."
Sanarae winked.
"So you really did come here just to hang out?"
"You understood correctly."
Gio clapped with a smile, as if to say, 'Good job.'
Yes—Gio hadn't come for any serious counseling. He'd just found a fun topic to chat about and decided to bring it up out of boredom.
"There's no reason to worry seriously about something that's already concluded."
To him, his status and powers were nothing more than traits—but he also understood why people around him would fear or revere them. So it was fine to live the rest of life thinking differently from others.
After all, it's absurd to think all humans could share the same thoughts. There was no such obligation—and no such possibility. That was the idea.
"In other words, I didn't think it was a big enough issue to require a solution."
"If that's how you feel, then so be it."
Sanarae thought:
That guy Yoo Seong-Woon must be absolutely exhausted.
And that manager called Joo-Hyun, too.
This terrifying enigma understood all his peculiarities yet still insisted on seeing himself as human—while most humans never could. The errors born from that difference in perception were plainly inevitable.
But...
"So you're saying both this and that are fine?"
"Not every viewpoint has to be correct."
"There must be more than a few people who see you as some kind of divine entity."
"I'm strong enough to handle that."
"Is this a 'Let the dogs bark, I walk my path' sort of thing? I mean, people naturally gather around whoever dances first."
"That's... a strange misrepresentation. I don't ask people to bark."
"Hmmm, you're so stubborn in such a weird way."
To summarize: 'You're right, and I'm right, so let's just live this way.' It was an absurdly vast form of acceptance. He welcomed everyone—dogs, cows, whatever—and still lived however he liked.
"Are you sure it won't become a problem?"
"Isn't that ambiguity what makes it fun? Every story is more thrilling when it includes hardship and adversity."
"Your personality is bizarrely nasty..."
"You're too kind."
"No wonder people say you're the guild leader's son."
"My father and I do have quite a bit in common."
"..."
These days, even divine beings were talented liars.
What a terrifying world.
Originally, sacred beings—living nature, destiny incarnate—were bad at lying. Lies clashed with their nature of harmony. Though, maybe things were different for evil gods.
Still, Kang Seodam treats him respectfully, so he doesn't seem like a malicious deity...
Truly a unique kind of enigma.
"Anyway, you really do a good job pretending to be human."
"How many times do I have to tell you—I am human?"
"Sure, I get it. A perfectly normal person with dazzling quirks."
"Thank you for pretending not to see."
"I'm thrilled."
"You know, Yoo Seong-Woon used to feel like this too, but these days he doesn't just agree with me anymore. He used to go, 'Yeah yeah, if that's what you think~' but now it's more like, 'Even so, wrong is still wrong.'"
"Hmm... maybe that's just a different kind of respect?"
"I do feel like he treats me more comfortably."
"Then why even ask if you already know?"
To Sanarae, it was like the difference between a curator cherishing a piece of art and a person cherishing a friend.
"I don't think either is bad."
"Same here."
"Then what's bothering you?"
"There are advantages to being endlessly indulged..."
"Greedy."
"Isn't it natural to want all the joys the world has to offer?"
"Most people don't even try to make that happen."
Those who tried to turn delusional ideals into reality were usually unhinged. From a human perspective, anyway. But Sergio Hunter wasn't human, so it made sense.
"So are you venting now?"
"I just finished."
"Then want to look at some clothes? This place is pretty nice."
"I'd like something flashy—like a crow."
"You mean sparkly and shiny, right? Hmm, that'd suit you."
"If anything doesn't fit, I'll compensate with my face."
"I totally agree with that. Love the confidence."
The two laughed and shopped cheerfully.
On the way back, a thug tried to attack Sergio Hunter, so Sanarae stomped him into a crippled mess—and Gio then healed the man and packaged him in front of a police station. But anyway, that happened.
***
"Some strange rumors seem to be spreading."
Joo-Hyun reported, looking pale.
"Something about Sergio Hunter being a saint..."
"That one came from our side, I believe."
"Well, now there's a rumor going around that if you eat Mr. Gio, you can live forever."
"Why on earth...?"
"Probably because a mermaid abducted him herself. That part must've inflated the story. Thankfully, the Church seems to be doing a good job of suppressing things for Cha I-Sol..."
Since Cha I-Sol was fine, Gio wasn't too surprised.
"Similar things have happened before."
"I can almost understand that... was it during your Giovanni days?"
"No, it was back when I was Argio..."
"...?"
Joo-Hyun gave him a look like, 'Did I just mishear that?'
"Mr. Argio? Why?"
"What about me, exactly?"
"From what I heard, you didn't seem like the type people would turn into a deity..."
"Well, there are different types of deification, aren't there?"
Argio shrugged.
"If you say 'beast of the black forest,' it sounds terrifying—but in another sense, it also means 'special.' The black forest was packed with rare herbs and gems, and I was the most brutal beast there. So rumors about achieving immortality by eating me weren't totally unfounded."
"Ah... yes... in that kind of... sense..."
It sounded less like purifying oneself with sacred saintly blood and more like hunting a beast to use as rare medicine. Joo-Hyun grew even more exhausted.
"I say this out of real concern, but... couldn't you be a bit more careful?"
"There's no danger of me getting hurt."
"That's not the point."
Joo-Hyun simply hated everything about this.
"I really don't want to see you involved in such vile incidents. Even if there's no visible harm, this kind of thing damages your dignity, Mr. Gio. It's honestly hard to just sit back and watch."
Gio smiled.
"Aren't you all here to protect me?"
"...I'm not sure we're qualified for that."
"When I'm struggling or in pain, you'll comfort me."
"If it looks like you need it..."
"In that case, I don't see any problems."
"You're way too optimistic."
"Well, it does make life easier."
And so, once again, Gio won over his friends.
-x-X-x-
Yoo Seong-Woon's reaction when he visited the gallery at dawn was not much different from Joo-Hyun's.
"I handled them myself."
As a capable hunter, he took a more direct approach.
"Some lunatic cultist attacked Hunter Sergio while he was out enjoying a stroll with a friend, during his physical and mental recovery. You think the Collector would just let that slide?"
"I didn't expect someone as busy as you to step in personally."
"I don't actually think you were that surprised. But as you know, my job is to manage the portrait that is you. I got scolded for dereliction of duty and even had to write a report."
Which meant the aftermath of this incident naturally fell under Yoo Seong-Woon's responsibility.
"It's true that lately people have been slacking a bit when it comes to you, so I took the punishment. If I don't follow the rules during times like these, then exceptions start popping up everywhere."
"Group life really is exhausting."
"Anyway, nothing major happened, so don't worry too much."
Yoo Seong-Woon smiled calmly and continued.
"Did you enjoy shopping?"
"Of course."
Gio beamed at the question.
"There were so many nice clothes these days. The quality of the fabric was so good I felt I could walk straight into battle and still move freely. And there were all kinds of unique weapons and accessories imbued with special powers."
"You're Argio, aren't you."
"You guessed even without the red hue this time."
"I was wondering why you and Hunter Sanarae clicked so well. Turns out you had this unexpected trait in common... At least it wasn't something as terrifying as all the noise coming from the Haryeong Guild made it seem."
Sanarae was among the Haryeong Guild's members who made good use of their appearance. A nasty bastard with a wild streak—Seong-Woon had wondered why he got along with Gio.
Looking at it this way, Argio seems to enjoy dressing himself up too.
You could tell just from the extravagant forms that sometimes cast over the picture frame. That was the biggest difference between Gio and Argio. The other two were rather plain by comparison.
Even if the face looked flashy.
"It was fortunate Hunter Sanarae stepped up this time."
"Yes, I'm grateful for how cleanly he handled it."
"Didn't seem all that clean, from what I heard?"
Apparently, Gio even healed the maniac himself—who was supposed to end up permanently disabled.
"Do you know why Hunter Sanarae stepped in?"
"I assume he wanted to protect the world from a ticking time bomb like me."
"That lines up surprisingly well with what I thought. Seems he's figured out more or less who you are, too."
"Seeing how quiet he's been, I doubt he has any intention of saying anything."
"Probably a move to protect his comrades, then? Funny, I never imagined he was someone who cared so much about his guild until I heard your side of things..."
"He's a commendable young man."
"If you say so, then it must be true."
Yoo Seong-Woon asked again.
"Speaking of shopping, want to go with me next time? We could invite Joo-Hyun and get some suits tailored together. There's a master tailor I often visit."
"Aren't you busy?"
"Time's something you make."
Now that the monster war had died down and things were starting to settle, Yoo Seong-Woon's workload was gradually decreasing. More importantly, accompanying Gio on his schedule could be considered part of his duties.
"..."
"Yoo Seong-Woon?"
"Mm, just had a passing thought."
"May I ask what it was?"
"I wondered... if you're really human."
"Oh."
Fortunately, Gio didn't tease him for that tasteless thought.
"What made you think that way?"
"It felt like an angle worth exploring. I'm just trying to test the view. But I'm not sure this really is the right path. I don't know if it's just some foolish idea. It'll probably take quite a while before I come to a firm conclusion."
"Whatever your conclusion may be, I'll respect your judgment."
"That's heavy."
This mystery didn't divide paths into right or wrong. So even if Yoo Seong-Woon chose an unsatisfying or treacherous path, Gio wouldn't tell him it was a mistake.
No, this guy doesn't even judge the world in terms of right and wrong in the first place.
Gio doesn't distinguish between good and evil when it comes to events. If you tried to claim, "Gio's portrait favors good people," it would contradict this, because Gio didn't infuse such decisions with personal bias.
For proof, even when Gio dealt with evil people, he didn't punish them. He simply classified them. He acknowledged the existence of all concepts, choosing only what suited his ideals and preferences.
To someone like me—just a mediocre human—it's unsettling.
So Yoo Seong-Woon couldn't rely on Gio. Not this time, at least.
The choice and the responsibility belong solely to me.
He had no choice but to deliberate carefully. His soul and body would remain trapped in a snowfield where snow fell endlessly until death.
As a human being. As a gardener and curator. And as someone named Yoo Seong-Woon...
How should he judge the being before him? What decision would leave the least regret?
"..."
He needed time.
"..."
"People live their lives so painfully. Do they enjoy suffering?"
"Can you stop? I'm trying to be all serious here."
"My deepest apologies, but I simply wonder if this is something that needs such serious contemplation, my dear Yoo Seong-Woon."
"Not everyone's as clear-cut as you."
Sure, there were probably people out there who could make decisions as decisively and clearly as Gio. But Yoo Seong-Woon couldn't be one of them. His burdens—both underfoot and on his shoulders—were simply too heavy for that.
In any case, that was just his personal story. He cracked his neck, then smiled faintly and asked,
"...So what will you do now?"
"I'm thinking of resting."
"That's honestly a relief to hear."
"I've been far too active lately."
All the things he had to do were now finished.
"I'll see you later."
Introverted Sergio needed some rest.
***
And so, Gio shut himself inside his home again.
"The world outside the blanket is dangerous."
"Muaaang..."
"So you agree."
The massive cat, overflowing with coolness even to the touch, was the perfect snuggle partner.
Gio hugged Dana and rolled around on the bed. His form melted into the cloudlike fluff.
"Hoo..."
Gio's normally expressionless face softened just a little as he lay still.
"..."
He ran his hand along Dana's long, smooth body. He gently stroked the cold, gemlike cat's belly.
"How many are inside you?"
"Meow."
"I see... Even more than I expected."
"Meow."
"They're all sleeping inside you, aren't they."
But it didn't sit right with Gio to just leave them all trapped inside Dana.
I still need to finish the gravestone for Joo-Hyun.
He'd put it aside for a while since she was clearly trying to move on from her past, but now that the jealous mermaids had gone quiet about the new painting, it felt right to finish the piece.
As Gio rose from the bed, Dana, who had been staring up at him, slowly climbed down as well. Now grown quite large, she was nearly the size of a wolf-dog. Gio patted his daughter.
"Shall we go to the studio?"
"Meow."
Just then, Honey gently landed on Gio's head.
"What were you doing?"
"Kururuk!"
"I see. Glad to hear your siblings are doing well."
"Kuru."
"I should visit soon too. I wonder what I should bring for them to enjoy..."
With light chatter, Gio entered his studio.
He sat before a blank white canvas. The small, round wooden stool he'd crafted during his student days was well-finished, smooth, and warm from the sun.
Gio picked up a palette carved from wood. He let out a low chuckle.
"Not yet."
His voice was stern, like a teacher.
"It's not your turn."
"■■..."
"You have to wait."
Holding a brush in his other hand, Gio stared at the clean canvas.
"..."
He wasn't afraid of death. He had no fear, nor despair.
There might be sorrow, but the path beyond that had to be released. Regret belonged only to the living—those who had passed should continue on to another fate in an unknown concept and place.
Gio's views differed slightly from those of the religions he knew. This place wasn't heaven or hell. It was a narrow, biased world that only accepted those he liked. And it wasn't reincarnation, either, since it didn't circle back around.
It's just a state of being.
Like catching a cold one day. Like tears from sadness or smiles from joy. That was all death meant to Gio.
What's the difference from falling asleep?
They call it an eternal sleep—and Gio agreed with that.
Everyone faces it eventually.
Whether their own or someone else's. People go through large and small deaths throughout their lives.
Even the tiny insect crushed on the path beneath their feet—buried without thought in indifferent soil.
"It's alright."
Gio brushed the side of Dana's face with the back of the hand that held the brush. Like soothing a child who didn't want to fall asleep, he said softly,
"Where you belong is up to you."
Maybe it was their will, or maybe someone else's. Maybe they liked where they ended up—or maybe not.
They might have happy memories. Or painful ones. Or no memory at all, just lingering presence.
They lingered. This was their home, their trace, their everyday.
We all lived taking up different shapes and volumes of the world.
What should I call you?
"..."
After painting just a single empty frame on the canvas, Gio gave it a name.
"...Let's call it a diary."
Dana cried.
"Meow."
A bell-like cry of a cat.
From the frame inside the canvas, that meow echoed.
***
A lover had died.
"..."
In the war waged by the mermaids, the lover she had promised to marry was killed. The woman cried and cried until she collapsed again and again, exhausting every last ounce of strength before finally falling silent. He had been her childhood friend, someone she had spent a clumsy but joyful time with. They had just escaped that godforsaken alleyway and finally stepped into the sunlight...
"...Fuck."
The curse slipped out.
Why am I the only one still here, you bastard. Hadn't he said they should find a house together, one where the sun poured in gently?
They hadn't married, but the bereavement compensation still went to her. In this age of rampant death, would she have fallen into such a state from the beginning just because she was a woman? She signed a lease for one of the houses they had viewed together, sorted through the clutter, and tried to rebuild her life, telling herself the living had to go on.
Even so, this was the result.
"If this is how it is, you shouldn't have shown up in my dreams..."
She kept dreaming of him being dragged away into the sea beyond the barrier.
Would it have been different if I'd been there? At the very least, he wouldn't have been so scared if I was with him. He was such a coward... he always needed me beside him... What's the point of all this, for someone who's already dead?
Dozens of times a day, she would fall into a daze, tormented by sudden memories, and then barely drag herself free. And when she did fall asleep, nightmares returned—grief and guilt spreading like ink until she felt like she couldn't breathe.
Then, one day, she heard this from an old contact in the back alleys.
"Hey, have you heard of Black Cloak? There's a new series coming out..."
"That's why you called me out here?"
"No, listen to the end. This is seriously rare info, and I'm only telling you because you looked so fucking pitiful."
"Pitiful, my ass."
"Let's call this even for that debt I owed you."
"Says who, you piece of shit..."
"They say he painted heaven."
"..."
She asked again.
"...What?"
"They say what Black Cloak painted this time is heaven. That all the good, kind-hearted people are there."
"That's ridiculous. Even if Black Cloak were divine or something, that's just... that's just not..."
"Still, what do you have to lose?"
He said it wouldn't be easy to find. Very few had seen it, and those who had kept their mouths shut, so word hadn't spread.
"..."
He painted heaven?
"..."
A heaven where only gentle and kind souls are gathered?
Bullshit.
That's what she thought—and yet, the woman began searching for the so-called new series of Black Cloak's work, the white frame. She knew it was probably nonsense, but just in case... she carefully scoured the city, watching her every step.
The rumor hadn't spread far yet, so there weren't many others like her out there. But even then, she couldn't find it. So she came up with another method: call the frame to her.
"...Black Cloak likes good people, right?"
So she tried doing good deeds.
"Um, excuse me."
"Hm?"
"...Would you like help carrying your bags?"
"Oh, all of a sudden? That's alright, dear."
"If it's too much trouble, I'll just help you up these stairs."
"I mean, I'd feel so bad making you..."
She carried the elderly woman's luggage up the stairs. It was obvious at a glance the woman didn't have much strength. She was in a hurry, but didn't act overly eager—no one trusts kindness easily in a world like this.
Surprisingly, the old woman smiled and thanked her.
"I wasn't even worried. Are you... one of those people doing good deeds?"
"Pardon? Good deeds...?"
"Oh, maybe not. These days, there are so many upstanding young folks—I thought maybe you were part of that club."
"What kind of people are you talking about? I mean, it's not my place to say, but in times like this, you shouldn't trust strange people too easily..."
"They're fans of Black Cloak, saying he's the real deal. Nothing dangerous about them."
"...Ah."
She had heard that too. There are Black Cloak fan clubs now... Thanks to them—though it felt weird to be thankful—people had started to loosen up. Folks who used to avoid help began to open up little by little, thanks to those enthusiasts.
"You look like you're lost... Where are you trying to go?"
"Oh, my. Well, um..."
"I-I'm one of them. A Black Cloak enthusiast. I'm doing good deeds so I can see him."
"Oh! That explains it. Could you show me to the local grocery store? I just moved here..."
"There's one on the main road. I'll take you there."
"Thank you so much."
After guiding her, the old woman handed her a zucchini.
"Um, this is..."
"Do you have eggs at home? Just beat them and fry this—so tasty."
"I feel bad... Please take it back."
"I'm just really grateful."
It had been so long since she saw fresh, clean vegetables. It felt like such a precious gift—too precious to throw away.
So that day, the woman went to the market and bought some eggs.
Then she remembered she didn't even have salt—or oil to stop it from sticking. Thinking of her empty house, she picked up a few more ingredients. She couldn't afford much, so even the eggs were monster eggs, but they still tasted good.
"..."
Been a while since I cooked jeon.
"...Hey, I burned it a little. Just eat it anyway."
"..."
"You always did the cooking... I tried my best this time."
She mumbled to the empty chair beside her. Next time, she'd do better. The thought of her lover, who had been so much better at cooking than her, brought tears to her eyes again. She cried with a piece of jeon still in her mouth. It was foolish.
Still longing for him, the woman kept going outside. Thanks to the Black Cloak enthusiasts, poking around places had become easier. Bit by bit, she grew used to this new rhythm of life.
"Oh, there you are."
"...Who—"
"I heard you helped my mother."
"Who are you talking about?"
"Please don't be alarmed—I just wanted to thank you."
"Oh... okay."
"She made some side dishes. She always makes too much..."
The middle-aged man bowed politely and left.
"You don't have to return the container!"
"Wait—hold on...!"
This sort of thing happened sometimes.
"..."
Then, one day, she realized something. People were starting to recognize her face.
Unlike in the alleys she grew up in, their expressions were warm—full of curiosity, gratitude, and kindness.
Feeling overwhelmed, she stood in the middle of the street and cried.
"Oh? Unni, why are you crying? Did someone bother you?"
"What happened? Don't stand here like this—come inside and have some tea."
"Oh no... Looks like something bad happened."
"It'll be alright, hmm? Why are you crying so sadly?"
Ah.
It was instinct.
...I'm going to end up forgetting you, aren't I? And that's probably what you would have wanted.
I don't even know how many more good deeds I'd need to do to see you again...
But this life wasn't so bad.
Before long, the woman started working again—as a hunter.
***
ACCESS RESTRICTED: Identification required to view classified information
Authentication complete.
"..."
Identification Number – 0S-000-B
Response Rating – F(-)
Entity Type – Object-Type
Entity Name – White Frame (-)
Authority – Diary (-)
A painting within a white wooden frame, depicting another frame. Believed to be the third work of Black Cloak (0S-328-D), following The Breathing Sea and The City of Void, but recorded as a separate anomaly due to its conceptual significance.
Rumored to allow viewers to see the departed who lived kind lives. However, no credible eyewitness has yet been found. Its appearance rate is significantly lower than Black Cloak's previous works. Some civilians, influenced by this, have begun engaging in social good to try to summon Black Cloak—this artwork is frequently found in close proximity to such individuals.
"A report came in, so I'm recording this as an audio file. Uh... this one's about an 82-year-old man. Name: Lee Jeong-ha. Lived in Yesan, South Chungcheong.
Is Black Cloak already reaching out to rural areas? He's expanding his range faster than we expected—shouldn't we take measures?
Anyway, that's not the point.
This man lost his granddaughter during the 'Ocean Garden' incident. Her name was Seo Yoon-Ha, 19 years old. A C-rank hunter, frost attribute. Despite her short career, she joined the battle.
It seems the so-called 'White Frame' seeks both the deceased who lived kindly, and a living witness.
Lee Jeong-ha died on the 15th. When his body was found, a pure white diary was clutched in his arms.
People close to him said he'd been claiming to see a mysterious frame before his death. No one else could see it, so they dismissed it as hallucination.
It's a rural area—people weren't quick to suspect anomalous phenomena.
The research team acquired the diary with the family's consent, but we couldn't read it.
The text defied interpretation, and each viewer saw different shapes.
But Lee Jeong-ha's fingerprints were on it.
It seems only certain people searching for the White Frame can perceive it—and read the diary.
What's the difference between Lee Jeong-ha and the others?
I think it has to do with their attitude toward life.
The depth of their grief, their willingness to rejoin society... or maybe just how much time they had left.
Lee Jeong-ha was nearing the natural end of his life. Despite losing his granddaughter, he remained calm.
We still don't know what the White Frame wants.
Even among those doing good deeds to see it, some can—and others still can't.
Why does it only appear in places where seekers can't see it?
What's actually written in that diary the frame created?"
"That's all. God, will someone finally come forward with a proper account...?"
"..."
LEVEL 0 ACCESS
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Identification Number – 0S-000-??
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Entity Name – White Frame (-)
Authority – Diary (-)
"...This is a follow-up report."
"Before we begin, I want to make it absolutely clear that this content is restricted to personnel with Level 0 clearance.
If you are listening to this file and do not have Level 0 authorization, the Association and I will take no responsibility for any consequences that result.
This is your last chance to leave."
"Continuing with the report.
...Ha, it was truly incredible.
I made direct contact with Black Cloak.
The contact location was in Anseong, Gyeonggi Province.
As with the previous file, it happened during an investigation into the entity 'White Frame.'
And I saw his frame.
A portrait, to be precise."
"He looked utterly perfect.
The peaceful forest he lived in was breathtakingly beautiful.
It was clear to me—this was Black Cloak's ideal world.
He seems to favor peace and beauty.
You could see it in his eyes, those eyes, they..."
(Content Deleted)
"..."
"I'll prepare separate documentation about the danger Black Cloak poses later.
But just being in his presence makes it hard to stay sane.
It's honestly a mystery why a religion hasn't formed around him yet.
I nearly got terminated too..."
"Please refrain from adding irrelevant information, sir."
"Ah, right.
Even after treatment, I'm still like this."
"If the hospital bed is uncomfortable, shall we relocate?"
"To the interrogation room, right?
Let's just do it here.
Now, picking up from last time—continuing the report on the 'White Frame.'
To make it easier to summarize... hmm... let me isolate just this section..."
"In order to be integrated into the entity, certain conditions must be met.
The deceased must have lived a virtuous enough life to earn Black Cloak's favor, or they must be very young souls, not yet taught the concepts of good and evil.
Since no similar cases have been found abroad, it's presumed that soul collection only happens in certain parts of Korea."
"Black Cloak said it's not a 'work' meant to be appreciated.
He described it more like a home.
When asked to explain some of the special cases recently reported, he said those weren't functions of the artwork itself."
"If not a function of the artwork, then does it involve external factors?"
"Yes.
He said that when the soul within the 'White Frame' resonates with the living, certain interactions can occur.
As expected of a divine anomaly, the explanation was vague and fairy-tale-like...
But in essence, it means this."
"The soul inside the frame always has the initiative.
If the living desperately wishes for it, that resonance can be sensed, but if the soul doesn't respond, the living will never perceive the 'White Frame.'"
"Additionally, it seems that if the balance between life and death is at risk, the frame will not appear, regardless of resonance.
It appears there are limits to what the residents inside are permitted... but I didn't receive a clear answer on this."
"Do you have any speculations?"
"I'll explain that part shortly."
"Thank you."
"Black Cloak said this place isn't a prison—it's just a home.
He said the residents can go anywhere they want.
That's very different from the typical concept of an afterlife.
If they can go anywhere, then maybe it's heaven, or the road to reincarnation, or possibly... even possession of someone else.
Of course, that's just speculation.
No confirmed cases."
"Now, in response to your previous question about what's permitted to residents inside the frame..."
"I interpreted it as this: it's only to the extent of helping the living finish their remaining lifespan."
"From all the cases gathered so far, direct encounters with the 'White Frame' are extremely rare.
Such exceptions only occur when the living is mentally stable enough not to disrupt the balance—even after recognizing the resonance."
"Could you give an example?"
"People who accepted their impending death: terminal patients, the elderly, or those with strong enough willpower to remain indifferent to life and death."
"There seems to be a pattern."
"Yes.
The more meaning the living attaches to the death of the dead, the harder it becomes to meet the frame."
"Among these, if a living person is accepted into the domain of the dead—into the 'White Frame'—they receive a 'diary.'
No one can actually read what's inside.
But judging by the reactions of those who received it, it's likely a kind of life-flashing-before-your-eyes montage."
"What is certain is that the 'diary' helps those on the verge of death transition peacefully and stably.
Perhaps it's a reward or a gift for the life they lived.
In such cases, it would mean the living person was favored by Black Cloak, and since he especially likes good people, it may be his way of affirming that their life was worthy of reward."
"There aren't many known cases, but this would be among the rarest.
If 'White Frame' spreads internationally, it could yield even greater insight—shame it's so localized."
"According to him, even the living can enter the 'White Frame.'"
"...Are you certain?"
"He said it was possible for those he permits.
But he didn't specify who.
If I had to guess, it might be his apostles—like Hunter Sergio or Acolyte Cha I-Sol.
Black Cloak values balance too much to endanger the Earth directly...
Still, it's something we need to keep a close eye on."
"That's all I can explain in words.
The rest will be submitted in writing."
"Thank you for your report."
[Additional Report]
In a later interview, Hunter Sergio, one of Black Cloak's apostles, said,
"I can only open the door through my contracted beast (presumed to be Anti-Cat 'Dana'), but I can't enter myself."
Acolyte Cha I-Sol, another apostle, showed no recognition of the 'White Frame's' existence.
Not all apostles seem to receive the same amount of information or authority.
Among the residents of the 'White Frame,' some can briefly take physical form in exchange for good deeds.
These manifestations are uncommunicative but can be seen in secluded places.
Each one differs in form, behavior, and intellect, but none show intent to interact with the living.
Some Gardeners speculate they are "Children of the [N O V E L I G H T] Origin."
There is an ongoing debate on whether they should be classified as monsters.
Until official records are published, they will be referred to as "Residents of the White Frame."
Strict control of this record is required.
***
"..."
"Would you like to visit?"
Joo-Hyun blinked at the White Frame that appeared before her.
"...Is this heaven?"
"As I said—just a home."
"That's lovely."
This house I'm in now... feels so lonely.
She was deeply thankful to the Collector who lent her this large, luxurious home, but it also reminded her of the noisy, messy orphanage she grew up in.
She only lived there until she was sixteen, but it was always her home.
They said the kind and young reside inside here, didn't they?
She gently brushed the frame with her hand.
"..."
Joo-Hyun had received a letter from Gio today.
"...So that's why you gave me the invitation."
It was still hard to decipher, but within the tangled patterns resembling a drawing, she could pick out the word "invitation."
Does this mean 'Gio's portrait' is becoming more human?
Perhaps.
With a flutter of nerves and a fair bit of anxiety, she waited—and then, the pure white frame appeared.
Not the peaceful forest where Gio usually dwelled, but a blank frame, utterly empty.
That's where he was waiting.
"Gio, do you want me to visit inside?"
"The choice is always yours."
"Now that I think about it... you've always been like that.
You never forced anything."
"I saw no need to."
"Even though it's a gravestone you made for me."
The day Gio summoned the friends Joo-Hyun had lost.
"...Haha..."
So that's where the family Dana had swallowed ended up.
"...They were all here."
"Would you like to visit?"
The exact same words.
The exact same tone.
The exact same voice.
"...No."
Joo-Hyun felt something deeply distant—but at the same time, the situation just seemed... absurd.
"I'm fine."
"Is that so?"
"It's too big a gift."
Gio made this just for a friend.
How naïve he was. How simple and pure his intentions were.
Whenever he handed her gifts she couldn't possibly handle, Joo-Hyun always found herself laughing.
"You're something else."
She felt a childish kind of gratitude for his painfully transparent goodwill.
"When did you even make this?
I never heard anything about a new piece from Black Cloak."
"It's been a while.
But Yoo Seong-Woon said important people in the government and association are keeping the information suppressed due to its... implications."
"Well, of course.
I mean, creating an afterlife of all things... what are we supposed to do with that?"
Gio folded his arms, as if he had his own complaints.
"But I couldn't keep your family inside Dana forever."
"Don't get serious about weird things.
Every time you do, something catastrophic happens."
"I'll take that under advisement."
"Is that all my words are to you?"
"Everyone keeps teasing me about that."
"It was a joke."
Joo-Hyun always found strength in this massive enigma's very human kindness.
This direct gift was a bit twisted in presentation—but sincere in its essence.
And she was someone who always looked beyond appearances. Even Gio's portrait.
So even as she felt overwhelmed, she was still grateful.
"Thank you.
It's a truly beautiful house."
If he were truly a being of pure mystery, there would've been no gift like this.
"...You're not going to cause trouble with this, right?"
"Of course not."
"I trust you, Gio."
"Then I'll live up to that trust."
"Alright..."
Her mind had been a mess, but now it felt just a little clearer.
"..."
When I've used up all the time I've been given... maybe I'll enter that place too.
If Gio allows it.
...That would be enough.
The living have no need for heaven.
I can still walk quite a bit farther.
***
Meanwhile, in the "Four-Legged Rainforest of the Underground."
"..."
Rustle.
"...Uh..."
Clatter-clatter-clatter!!
"Ugh..."
Yoo Seong-Woon blinked.
"Hunter Yoo Seong-Woon, is something wrong?"
"No, it's just...
I saw a new monster here that felt oddly familiar..."
"What are you talking about?
Are you heat-struck?
How can something be new and familiar at the same time?"
"It happens."
Seeing the "Waterbird's Nest" in this strange place, Yoo Seong-Woon gave a hollow laugh.
Nice to see you again, I guess.
Seems like Gio really is planning to swallow the whole Earth.