Chapter 210
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 210
When Yoo Seong-un visited the gallery at dawn, his reaction was much the same as Ju-hyeon’s.
“I took care of those bastards myself.”
As a highly capable Hunter, his methods had been a bit more direct.
“A lunatic cultist attacked Hunter Seo Gio while he was out meeting an acquaintance, all during his recovery from physical and mental trauma. There was no way the Collector would let someone like that slide, right?”
“I didn’t expect the busy Mr. Yoo Seong-un to step in personally.”
“I don’t think you were completely clueless, but as you know, my job is to manage the portrait—which is to say, you. Thanks to this, I got chewed out for dereliction of duty and had to write a full disciplinary report.”
In other words, it was only natural that Yoo Seong-un had ended up handling the aftermath.
“It’s true my attitude toward you had grown a bit lax recently, so I took my punishment like a good boy. In times like these, if even I don’t follow the company rules, problems start cropping up everywhere under the guise of ‘exceptions.’”
“Working in an organization sounds exhausting.”
“Anyway, nothing bad happened, so don’t worry about it.”
Smiling casually, Yoo Seong-un asked, “Did you enjoy your shopping?”
“Of course,” Gio replied, a bright smile spreading across his face. “There were many clothes I quite liked. The quality of the fabric is excellent—comfortable enough to wear straight into battle—and there was a wide variety of unique weapons and trinkets imbued with special power.”
“You’re Arjio, aren’t you?”
“You can tell instantly now, even when my color isn’t red.”
“I wondered why you got along so well with Hunter Sa Na-rae, but it turns out you two share this unexpected common ground… I’m just glad nothing as terrifying as the uproar in the Haeryeong Guild actually happened.”
Sa Na-rae was one of those members of the Haeryeong Guild who was exceptionally particular about his appearance. Seong-un had wondered why a foul-tempered, unpredictable punk would hang out with Gio, but now it all made sense.
Looking at it this way, Arjio seems to enjoy dressing up, too.
One could tell just by looking at the dazzling figures that occasionally cast their shadows over the frame. That was the biggest difference between Arjio and the other Gios. The other two were on the simpler side, though their faces were flashy enough on their own.
“I’m glad Hunter Sa Na-rae stepped in for you this time.”
“Yes, I was grateful he handled it so cleanly.”
“I heard it wasn’t all that clean, though?” Yoo Seong-un countered. Hadn’t Gio personally healed the madman who had been destined to become a paraplegic?
“Do you know why Hunter Sa Na-rae stepped in?”
“I suppose he wanted to protect the world from a bomb like me.”
“That aligns surprisingly well with my own thoughts. Well, he’s also figured out your identity to some extent.”
“Seeing how quiet he’s been, he probably has no intention of opening his mouth.”
“In the end, that reaction must be to protect his comrades, right? Man, before I heard your story, I never would have imagined he was someone who cherished his guild so much…”
“He is a commendable young man.”
“If you say so, then I guess he is.”
Yoo Seong-un then asked, “Speaking of shopping, would you like to go with me next time? I think it would be a good idea to invite Mr. Ju-hyeon as well and get some custom suits made. There’s a master tailor I visit often.”
“Aren’t you busy?”
“Time is something one can always make.”
Since the war with the monsters had ended and things were mostly being cleaned up, Yoo Seong-un’s workload was gradually decreasing. Above all, accompanying Gio could be considered part of his job…
“……”
“Mr. Yoo Seong-un?”
“Ah, I was just lost in thought for a moment.”
“May I ask what you were thinking about?”
“I was wondering if you were human.”
“Oh.”
Fortunately, Gio didn’t tease him upon hearing the dry, unromantic concern.
“Is that how you’re trying to see me?”
“I think it’s a perspective worth pondering, so I’m trying. But I have no certainty whether this is the right path or just a foolish thought. It will probably take quite some time before I reach a definitive conclusion.”
“Whatever the outcome, I respect your judgment, Mr. Yoo Seong-un.”
“Those are heavy words.”
This mystery didn’t divide all paths into right and wrong. Therefore, even if Yoo Seong-un walked an unsatisfying or immoral path, Gio wouldn’t tell him it was wrong.
No, in the first place, this man doesn’t judge the world by concepts of right and wrong.
Gio did not distinguish between good and evil. That might seem to contradict the premise that ‘Gio’s Portrait likes good people,’ but to be more precise, he simply harbored no personal bias. As proof, even when Gio dealt with evil people, he didn’t ‘punish’ them. He merely ‘classified’ them. He acknowledged the existence of all concepts but simply made choices that aligned with his own ideals and tastes.
To a humble human like me, that’s a chilling thought.
Thus, Yoo Seong-un couldn’t lean on Gio for this, either. At least, not this time.
The choice and the responsibility are entirely one’s own.
He had no choice but to ponder it carefully. After all, his soul and body were bound to that snowy field where heavy snow fell, and would be until the day he died.
As a human. As a Gardener and a Curator. And as the man named Yoo Seong-un…
How should he judge the existence before his eyes? Or rather, what path would lead to the fewest regrets?
“……”
He needed time.
“……”
“People really live such difficult lives. Do you enjoy suffering?”
“I’m trying to set a serious mood and contemplate here. Are you going to keep doing this?”
“I am deeply sorry, but I must wonder if this is truly something that requires such serious contemplation, my dear Mr. Yoo Seong-un.”
“Not every existence is as clear-cut about things as you are.”
Of course, there were certainly people who made judgments as simply and clearly as Gio, but Yoo Seong-un could never be one of them. The burdens beneath his feet and upon his shoulders were far too heavy for him to think and act so lightly.
In any case, this was his personal matter. He rubbed the back of his neck, then grinned and asked, “…So, what are you going to do now?”
“I’m thinking of resting.”
“Honestly, that’s welcome news.”
“I’ve been far too active lately.”
Everything he had to do was finished.
“See you later.”
It was time for the introverted Seo Gio to take a break.
* * *
And so, Gio shut himself in his house once again.
“It’s dangerous outside the blankets.”
“Mwaaaang…”
“You agree, don’t you?”
The giant cat, perpetually cool to the touch, was the perfect friend to cuddle. Gio rolled around on the bed, hugging Dana, his entire figure swallowed by the cloud-like fluff.
“Phew…”
Lying still, Gio’s blunt expression softened slightly. He stroked Dana’s long, soft body, gently rubbing the cold belly of the jewel cat.
“How many people are inside you?”
“Meow.”
“Right, I see. Even more than I thought…”
“Meow.”
“They must all be sleeping inside you.”
But keeping them trapped inside Dana like this felt far too pitiful.
I also need to finish the tombstone for Mr. Ju-hyeon.
He had set it aside for a while because he saw Ju-hyeon striving to overcome his past. But now that the mermaids, who would have been jealous of a new painting, had quieted down, it was time to finish the work.
When Gio got out of bed, Dana, who had been staring up at him, slowly climbed down as well. Having grown considerably, Dana was now almost as large as a wolfdog. Gio stroked his daughter.
“Shall we go to the studio?”
“Meow.”
Honey flew over and landed softly on Gio’s head.
“What have you been up to?”
“Kkooroo-rook!”
“I see. I’m glad your siblings seem to be doing well.”
“Coo.”
“I should visit them soon, too. I wonder what I should bring for them to enjoy…”
Exchanging light conversation, Gio entered the studio and sat before a pristine white canvas. The small, round wooden stool, crafted from memories of his student days, was smooth, well-finished, and warm from the sunlight.
Gio picked up his hand-carved wooden palette. Letting out a low chuckle, he spoke.
“Not yet.”
His voice was firm, as if teaching.
“It’s not your turn.”
“■■…”
“You must wait.”
With a brush in his other hand, Gio stared at the blank white canvas.
“……”
He did not fear death. He felt neither terror nor despair.
There might be sadness, but the path beyond was something that ought to be let go. Regret belonged only to those left behind, so it was only right for the deceased to continue their other destinies in an unknown space.
Gio’s thoughts differed slightly from the religions he knew. This place was too narrow and biased to be called heaven or hell, accepting only those who caught his fancy. Nor was it the reincarnation of Buddhism, for it did not spin in a full circle.
It is simply a state of being.
Like catching a cold one day. Like tears falling when sad, and a smile forming when happy. To Gio, death was nothing more than that.
How is it any different from falling asleep?
Some called death a very long sleep, and Gio agreed.
After all, it’s something everyone will experience at least once.
Whether it was their own death or another’s. People lived their lives encountering deaths big and small. Didn’t they unknowingly bury the deaths of tiny insects with every careless step?
“It’s alright.”
Gio stroked the cheek of Dana, who stood beside him, with the back of his brush hand. He spoke as if soothing a child who didn’t want to sleep.
“Where you will be is for you to decide.”
It could be of one’s own free will, or by the will of others. It might be to their liking, or it might not. There could be happy memories, painful memories, or they could simply remain without any memories at all.
They simply remained. This was their home, their trace, their daily life.
They have lived, each occupying a different volume of the world.
What should I call you all?
“……”
After painting a single, empty frame, Gio gave it a name.
“…Let’s call it a diary.”
Dana cried out.
“Meow.”
A cat’s cry, clear as a bell.
Within the frame on the canvas, that cry lingered.
* * *
Her lover was dead.
“……”
The man she had promised to marry had died in the war waged by the mermaids.
The woman wept until she could weep no more, collapsing repeatedly until she had exhausted every ounce of her strength. He was a childhood friend, someone with whom she had shared childish, imperfect, yet joyful times. She thought they had finally escaped those godforsaken back alleys and stepped into the sunlight…
“…Fuck.”
A curse escaped her lips.
Why am I the only one left here, you bastard?
Hadn’t they promised to find a house together where the warm sunlight streamed in?
Though they weren’t married, the bereavement compensation was sent to her. In an era where death was rampant, she hadn’t been a wreck from the very beginning. She had signed a lease for one of the houses they had looked at together, sorted through their things, and tried to carry on, telling herself that the living must go on.
Yet, she still ended up like this.
If you’re going to do this, you shouldn’t even show up in my dreams…
She kept dreaming of him being dragged into the sea beyond the barrier.
Would things have been different if I had been with him? At least if I had been there, he wouldn’t have been so scared. He was always such a coward; he needed me by his side… What’s the point of all this? He’s already dead.
Dozens of times a day, her mind would go blank, only for the thoughts to suddenly rush back, plunging her into agony. And when she finally fell asleep, the nightmares would return. Longing and guilt spread like ink, suffocating her.
Then, one day, she heard something from an acquaintance in the back alleys.
“Do you know about the Black Cloak? I heard a new series came out…”
“Did you call me out just to tell me that?”
“No, listen to the end. This is really precious information, and I’m only telling you because I feel so sorry for you.”
“Sorry my ass.”
“With this, the debt I owed you from last time is paid off, okay?”
“Who said you could decide that, you bastard…”
“They say he painted heaven.”
“……”
She asked again, “…What?”
“They say what the Black Cloak painted this time is heaven. Apparently, all the young, good people are in there.”
“What kind of bullshit is that? That makes no sense. Even if the Black Cloak is truly divine, that’s… that’s absolutely…”
“Still, what do you have to lose?”
He added that it wouldn’t be easy to find. Since so few people had seen it, and those few were keeping their mouths shut, the information hadn’t spread.
“……”
He painted heaven?
“……”
A heaven where only the weak and good are gathered?
…Bullshit.
Even as she thought so, the woman set out to find the White Frame, rumored to be the Black Cloak’s new series. Knowing it was absurd, she still searched everywhere, watching her own behavior with utmost care just in case.
Perhaps because the rumor hadn’t fully spread, there seemed to be no one else dressed like her. But when she still couldn’t find it, she sought another method: to summon the frame to her.
“…They said the Black Cloak likes good people.”
So, she tried doing good deeds.
“Ex-excuse me.”
“Hmm?”
“…May I help you carry your luggage?”
“Oh my, so suddenly? No, thank you.”
“If you’re worried, I’ll just help you up these stairs.”
“No, it’s just that I’d feel too bad…”
She helped carry the luggage of an elderly man who was clearly struggling. Though she felt impatient, she didn’t push. After all, in a world like this, who would easily trust a stranger offering help?
Surprisingly, however, the old man smiled and thanked her.
“I wasn’t worried. Are you one of them too, young lady? The people who do good deeds?”
“Pardon? Good deeds…?”
“Never mind if you’re not. There’s been a sudden increase in diligent young folks lately, so I thought you might be in the same group.”
“What kind of people are they? I—it’s not really my place to say, but in a world like this, if you trust strange people…”
“They’re just people who are crazy about the Black Cloak. They’re not dangerous.”
“…Ah.”
The woman had heard of that group, too.
I heard enthusiasts had popped up.
It was strange to think, but thanks to them, it became much easier for her to meddle in others’ business. People who used to avoid and distrust good deeds had gradually lowered their guard because of the Black Cloak enthusiasts.
“You look lost… Where are you trying to go?”
“Oh my, no, well…”
“I-I’m one of them. A Black Cloak enthusiast. I’m doing good deeds to see the Black Cloak.”
“Ah! I see, oh dear. Then could you perhaps tell me where the grocery store is? I just moved to this neighborhood…”
“Oh, that’s on the main street. I’ll show you.”
“Thank you.”
After guiding the way, the woman received a zucchini from the person she had helped.
“Um, this is…”
“Do you have eggs at home? It’s delicious if you coat it in beaten egg and pan-fry it.”
“I feel too bad taking this… Please take it back.”
“It’s because I’m so grateful.”
It had been a long time since she had seen such a clean, fresh vegetable. Having received such a precious gift, it would be a waste to throw it away. In the end, she went to the market that day for the first time in a while and bought a few eggs.
Come to think of it, she had no salt to season the pan-fried zucchini, nor any cooking oil. Recalling her empty house, she picked up a few more ingredients. Her living situation wasn’t great, so the eggs were actually monster eggs, but they still tasted good.
“……”
It had been a while since she had made jeon.
“…Hey, I burnt it a bit. Just deal with it and eat up.”
“……”
“You always did the cooking… I did my best.”
She found herself making excuses to the empty air. She even thought that next time, she should make a better batch. Remembering her lover, who was a far better cook than she was, her emotions welled up, and she wept again with the food still in her mouth. She felt so foolish.
Still missing him, the woman kept going outside. Thanks to the Black Cloak enthusiasts, poking her nose into things was certainly easier. Gradually, she grew accustomed to this new daily routine.
“Oh, here you are.”
“Who…”
“I heard you helped my mother.”
“Which person are you referring to?”
“Y-you don’t need to be on guard… I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Ah, yes…”
“These are side dishes my mother made. She’s always been very generous with her portions…”
The middle-aged man bowed deeply and turned to leave.
“You don’t have to return the container!” he called over his shoulder.
“No, wait…!”
Things like this happened from time to time.
“……”
When she suddenly snapped out of it, she realized that quite a few people now recognized her face. Unlike in the back alleys of her childhood, these faces were filled with warm interest, gratitude, and welcome.
A ticklish, overwhelming feeling washed over her, and she burst into tears right in the middle of the street.
“Huh? Uh, unnie. Why are you crying? Did someone bully you?”
“What’s wrong? Don’t stand out here, come inside and have some tea.”
“Oh dear, something bad must have happened…”
“It’s going to be okay, alright? Why are you crying so sorrowfully?”
Ah.
It was an instinctive realization.
…At this rate, I might end up forgetting you.
And you would want that, wouldn’t you?
I don’t even know how many times I have to do this to see you…
Yet, she found herself thinking that a life like this wasn’t so bad.
Not long after that, she resumed her work as a Hunter.
* * *
`This information requires identity verification.`
`Verification complete.`
“……”
`Identification Number: 0S-000-B`
`Response Rank: F(-)`
`Entity Type: Object Type`
`Entity Name: White Frame (-)`
`Authority: Diary (-)`
`A painting of another frame depicted within a white wooden frame. It is identified as the third work of the Black Cloak (0S-328-D), following the Breathing Sea and the Void City, but is recorded as a separate mystery considering the significance of its concept.`
`Rumors claim that one can see the deceased who lived a good life, but no actual witness has been found. The probability of witnessing it is abysmally lower than that of the Black Cloak’s (0S-328-D) previous works. In response, some citizens have begun engaging in social activities to summon the Black Cloak, and this work appears near such specific targets with a high probability.`
“Ah, a report has come in, so I’m compiling it into an audio file. Uh… this is the case of an 82-year-old man. Name: Lee Jeong-ha, residing in Yesan, South Chungcheong Province. Is the Black Cloak already reaching out to the provinces? The speed at which his range is expanding is faster than expected. Shouldn’t we take measures? No, anyway. That’s not it.”
“He reportedly lost his granddaughter during the recent ‘Sea Flower Garden’ incident. Her name was Seo Yun-ha, age 19. A C-Rank Hunter… her position was a damage dealer. Since she was an ice-type, she seems to have participated despite her relatively short career. They fit the criteria of the good deceased and the living person required by the provisional name ‘White Frame.’”
"Lee Jeong-ha passed away on the 15th. A pure white diary was reportedly found clutched in the deceased’s arms. According to those around him, Lee Jeong-ha had mentioned seeing a frame shortly before his death, but since it wasn’t visible to anyone else, they dismissed it as a hallucination. Given the lack of information out in the provinces, it’s unlikely anyone there would have immediately suspected a supernatural phenomenon."
"Our research team acquired the 'White Diary' with the consent of the bereaved family to examine it, but we’ve been unable to read the contents. The characters are indecipherable, and its appearance seems to change for every person who looks at it. However, Lee Jeong-ha’s fingerprints were detected on the diary… Well, it seems that among all those searching for the 'White Frame,' only specific targets can perceive the frame and read the diary."
"What is the difference between Lee Jeong-ha and the other potential subjects? I believe it lies in their attitude toward life. The depth of their longing for their deceased loved ones… their willingness to reintegrate into society… or perhaps their remaining lifespan. Lee Jeong-ha was nearing the end of his natural life, and he was said to have remained calm despite his granddaughter’s passing."
"I have no idea what the 'White Frame' is trying to achieve. Even when people try to force the conditions by engaging in social activities for the sole purpose of seeing the 'White Frame,' some end up seeing it while others still cannot. It’s also a mystery why the frame only ever seems to appear in a person’s periphery, where they can’t get a direct look at it. And we still don’t know what exactly is written in the diary it creates."
"That is all. Sigh… I wish someone who saw it more clearly would finally show up…"
…….
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