Chapter 41
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 41
[Forest’s Innards]
[Rank: -]
A sausage made from the meat of the Tree-Horned Deer, combined with herbs and fruits that grow wild along Fate’s Ley Line. Handcrafted by Gio, the master of the forest, it is perfectly suited for human digestion. This sausage provides a deep sense of satiety and is excellent for recovering from certain injuries and boosting immunity.
“Help.”
“Whoa, you startled me.”
“Please help me.”
“Curator Yoo Seong-un, must you come to me every time you receive a troublesome gift?” Bisabeol responded cheerfully to Yoo Seong-un, who had suddenly burst in.
“This time, it’s a personal gift, so I can’t even share it with anyone else.”
“Then why don’t you just ask if you can share it?”
“I suppose that’s my only option.”
“Have you tried it yet?”
“I ate about three of them at home before coming,” Yoo Seong-un said with a nod. “They were delicious.”
“Ah, hearing you say that makes me want some, too.”
“You’ll have to wait until I go ask Gio.”
“If you’re not even going to let me have any, why on earth did you bring it to me?”
“Because if anyone else sees it, it’ll put me in a very awkward position.”
“Ah, so I’m just a safe deposit box…” Bisabeol smiled wryly.
“Our employees are far too cynical.”
“Weren’t you the one who hired them all?”
“Even so, who uses their Guild Master as a safe? No one cherishes me.”
“And who created this atmosphere in the first place? Don’t start whining now.”
“So, what are the effects?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
Yoo Seong-un rubbed the back of his neck, lost in thought for a moment.
“It says it’s excellent for recovering from injuries and boosting immunity, but since I don’t have any injuries right now, I haven’t really felt those effects. However…”
“However?”
“My eyes do feel a bit clearer.”
“Clearer eyes?”
Even in a world like this, medical technology related to vision had progressed slowly. The more time passed, the harder it became to recover worn-out optic nerves. In that sense, the effect Yoo Seong-un mentioned sounded quite intriguing.
“Are you certain about that effect?”
“That’s how it feels to me. If others eat it, we can form a control group and analyze the exact effects in more detail.”
“Then we’ll have to get Gio’s permission first. You should have asked him when you received it. Knowing Gio’s personality, I doubt he’d flatly refuse.”
“We shouldn’t make assumptions about an Existence of the Origin like that. Besides, I’d just pulled an all-nighter and was completely out of it. I was just stopping by to give him some bungeoppang I’d bought. How was I supposed to know I’d receive a gift like this?”
“If you’re that tired, why not eat the cookies you received last time?”
“Finished those a long time ago.”
Yoo Seong-un had once again become a slave to caffeine.
“What about the fruit syrup you received before? It didn’t look like fruit syrup at all, but anyway, what did the other employees think of it?”
“The response was excellent, of course. But they also seemed quite confused. For one, the greatest benefit of the Honey of the Water Vein—restoring human physical capabilities to their absolute limit…”
“Even without reading an item description, they would have felt it in their own bodies. They must have had their doubts,” Bisabeol said with a smile. “Would you like a cup of fruit tea before you go?”
“…Yes, please.”
Yoo Seong-un, on the verge of dying from overwork, desperately needed something to recover.
Taking a sip of the fruit tea, which had a rich, savory flavor as thick as soup, he let out a soft sigh. It was incredibly delicious, but consuming something so extraordinary just to recover from fatigue filled him with a sense of futility.
“If we brought this into a dungeon, it would be a massive help. It would probably have a significant impact on reducing mortality rates.”
“That’s true.”
“But if we actually did, it would cause another massive uproar.”
“That’s also true.”
“…An Existence of the Origin being this favorable is a problem in itself.”
It was a new realization for him.
“So, didn’t the employees suspect anything? They must have felt something was off.”
“They were all curious about the source of the fruit syrup, but no one asked me about it again. I told them I bought it at an auction, though most of them found that hard to believe.”
“So what did you say?”
“What could I say? No one asked, so I said nothing. Our employees absolutely hate getting involved in complicated matters.”
“No office worker likes overtime.”
“They really are a cold-hearted bunch,” Bisabeol said, sipping his own cup of fruit tea. “Still, it seems very few of them guessed it was a ‘Fragment of the Work’.”
‘Fragment of the Work’ was an idiom used within the Collector Guild. It referred to items, blessings, or curses bestowed upon a curator by a work of art confined within Bisabeol’s Gallery.
“After all, almost no one would ever think a work of art would give food as a gift…”
“I suppose not.”
Among the works gathered in Bisabeol’s Gallery, quite a few possessed an ego. A high-ranking curator would be assigned to a piece based on the sophistication of its ego, managing it while carefully nurturing their bond. Thus, on very rare and highly exceptional occasions, a curator would receive a ‘Fragment’ like this.
“Usually, they give objects.”
“Well, food is technically an object, too.”
“I mean they usually give things like accessories, paintings, or weapons.”
“Right, most of them do.”
There was no way another work of art would have taken up cooking as a hobby like Gio.
“Is cooking Gio’s only hobby?”
“No, as I mentioned before, he also enjoys painting.”
“And those paintings become passages or living creatures.”
“Correct.”
“Then what happens if he paints a landscape?”
“……”
Yoo Seong-un’s face crumpled like a piece of crushed foil.
“I’m resting right now. Please don’t make me anxious.”
“It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
“I already had a rough idea of the possibilities, but I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Poor thing…”
“When a boss says ‘poor thing,’ it just sounds like sarcasm.”
Bisabeol smiled and nodded at his exhausted subordinate.
“I’m just curious. Since Gio can create anything through his paintings, I was simply intrigued by what would happen if he painted a landscape.”
“Perhaps he could create an entirely different world.”
“Like a dungeon?”
“……”
“How wonderful.” Bisabeol stroked his chin and said, “According to quite a few night guards, they’ve witnessed Gio traveling through a certain landscape painting.”
“That’s a bit different from what I heard. A landscape painting, not a portrait?”
“It seems that when Gio is inside, it’s a portrait, and when he’s out, it’s a landscape. Sounds quite convenient, doesn’t it?”
“That is seriously mind-boggling…”
“They say the artwork hanging in the hallway disappears around sunrise, so it’s certain he can use it for travel.”
“But didn’t we already suspect that?”
“So what I’m curious about is, if he can travel to existing places through a painting…” A glint appeared in Bisabeol’s eyes. “Can Gio travel to other dungeons as well?”
“……”
“I’m quite curious.”
“That…” Yoo Seong-un frowned. “I think that’s a rather dangerous thought.”
“Did it sound that way?”
“I don’t know what exactly you see in Gio, Guild Master, but from my perspective—as someone with poor vision—it certainly does.”
“Gio has already toured the outside world under your guidance, Curator Yoo Seong-un.”
“I agreed to that, yes, but what you’re suggesting now is to expand Gio’s range of activity even further.” It left a bad taste in his mouth. “My showing Gio favor beyond what is normal for a work of art… of course, I have no excuse. But this is the nature of Gardeners. It’s something engraved in our very souls.”
That was just how Gardeners were. They did not perceive threats as threats, nor did they recognize cruelty as cruelty. To those who tended the Garden, an Existence of the Origin was simply something to be cared for.
“I told you this when I accepted your offer and signed the employment contract, and I’ve said it time and time again: Gardeners are not on the side of humanity.”
Because they were born human but tended the Garden, they wished for both to coexist. It was inevitable for Yoo Seong-un to be captivated by Gio, who seemed so close to the Origin. One could not survive as a Gardener without being obsessed with the Origin. It was an ancient, unchangeable preference that could never be altered.
“But you, Guild Master, are completely human. If I am not thorough enough as a curator, you should point it out and correct me.”
“……”
“You allow your works… far too much leeway. It’s only natural to worry.”
Bisabeol laughed. “Isn’t that the exact same logic that allows you to use me as a safe, Seong-un?”
“…I know I’m not in a position to talk, considering I’ve received plenty of help, both big and small, thanks to your favoritism.”
Every member of the Collector Guild was one of Bisabeol’s collectibles. The way he showed weakness to a pathetic degree and bestowed excessive favors all stemmed from his irrational desire to collect. Bisabeol loved all of his collectibles.
“Even so, using the world as a testing ground for your works will surely bring a massive backlash later on.”
“A backlash, you say.”
“Every time an out-of-spec work like Gio appeared, you always acted like this, Guild Master.”
“And how did I act?”
“You acted as if it didn’t matter how ruined the world became or how many people died, as long as you could understand and appreciate your artwork.”
“You saw right through me,” Bisabeol nodded. “That’s why I hired curators—so they could manage things on my behalf while I’m busy appreciating them.”
“……”
It was an incredibly irresponsible thing to say, but since it wasn’t entirely wrong, Yoo Seong-un could only let out a sigh.
“If even I, a Gardener, am taking humanity’s side like this, it means the situation is truly serious.”
“I thought I was exercising self-restraint, but if you’re saying that, Seong-un, I suppose I must have gone too far.” Bisabeol’s eyes curved sharply. “But aren’t you curious?”
Those were the eyes of a man with no intention of hiding his greed.
“I want to know what kind of existence my artwork is. I’m curious about what kind of upstanding young man Gio is, whether he can kill a person, and if he does, how many and in what manner he would kill.”
“……”
“Gio is a painter. He is also a portrait. He has a personality that avoids conflict. He believes himself to be a twenty-nine-year-old young man. How will he blend in with people? How will he react when he experiences something unpleasant? I’m curious to see how he will change once he realizes he is a work of art.”
“……”
“To be completely honest, I don’t care what happens to the world because of Gio. It angers me when my artwork is damaged by foolish people, but it doesn’t scare me if works of art fight among themselves, getting wounded and burned.”
That was Bisabeol’s raw, honest desire.
“Have you ever heard that the higher an S-Rank, the further they drift from humanity?”
“…It’s a famous story. Tales of how inhuman S-Rank Hunters are always popular.”
“It’s quite embarrassing to claim this with my pathetic physical abilities, but I hope you understand that I, too, am an S-Rank.” He was closer to being non-human. “I wish this world were beautiful and pristine enough for me to cherish. Don’t you agree?”
“……”
Hearing such absurd words spoken directly to his face, Yoo Seong-un’s own face contorted with fatigue.
“…Normal people don’t factor in the possibility of mass slaughter just because the world isn’t beautiful or pristine, Guild Master…”
“That’s only because their view of the world is narrow. To put it more bluntly, even if the world ends because of my artwork, it would only be something that was bound to happen anyway.”
“The Association President should have heard that. Isn’t Bisabeol’s Gallery the only place the Association—which is notoriously strict about regulating dangerous items—trusts and leaves alone?”
“I’m sure you know this, but he doesn’t particularly trust me either. It’s just that the Association President lacks the time and resources to manage everything, and I happened to be the only lesser evil capable of taking charge of the ever-increasing number of dangerous works.”
Simply because he shouldered half the burden of the government and the Association’s duties, Bisabeol had secured autonomy for his gallery.
“So, the Association President doesn’t really trust me. He just needed a space and personnel to consistently provide a bare minimum of management.”
“…Despite that distrust, it’s a miracle the Association hasn’t confiscated your works. Remembering my time as a researcher there, the Association definitely coveted your gallery, Guild Master…”
“That’s why they say life is all about timing. If I had opened this gallery even ten years later, would the Association have let me off the hook like this?” Bisabeol’s face brightened as if he had just heard a hilarious joke. “In today’s world, Bisabeol’s Gallery is highly famous. It has far more performance value, is more stimulating, and is much more visible to the public than the Association, where only quiet research, analysis, and control take place.”
“……”
“Moreover, what I manage is a gallery. Customers can visit, and those customers can purchase the works. The Association cannot suppress this historic gallery, which is backed by the patrons who support me.” Bisabeol’s face filled with dramatic sorrow. “Ah, truly… my eyes well up with tears when I think of the works trapped inside the Association. I wonder what harsh treatment they must be enduring just to survive.”
“Uh…”
“On top of that, when I think of the humiliation and pain my precious, delicate works would suffer in the Association’s research lab, I can absolutely never hand them over. Art contains a soul.”
“Ah, yes…”
From the perspective of Yoo Seong-un, who was once a research team leader at the Association, this was utterly exasperating nonsense. However, since he was now working under the man and enjoying various conveniences, he decided to let it slide.
“So you have no intention of holding back?”
“I’m already holding back plenty. I have no idea what more I should restrain.”
“This place is practically the Demon King’s castle.” There was no telling what kind of catastrophe would occur if things ever blew up. “If an accident happens, it’s going to be a massive disaster. You know that, right?”
“That’s why I pay our curators hazard pay, isn’t it?”
“That wasn’t what I was asking. South Korea could literally be wiped off the map.”
“That does sound terrifying. I trust our curators to handle things well before it comes to that.”
“What an irresponsible director. I wish you’d at least have some awareness that this is your own gallery.”
Bisabeol’s Gallery was more stimulating and open than the Association’s research lab, but its safety was correspondingly lower.
In the first place, if those dangerous and sensitive works are to be managed safely… they would need much tighter control.
Here, there was only a bare minimum of control spread across a massive volume of works. It was the exact opposite of the Association’s research lab. Bisabeol loved his works and managed them with love. One of the basic requirements for the curators here was to ‘build a strong bond with the artwork.’
“……”
Indeed, the Earth was currently being maintained in a highly precarious state.
Even if it’s an inevitable situation, since all systems collapsed once and are now being rebuilt…
Everything was running solely on the mercy of a few powerful individuals.
If even one of them goes astray, it will be absolute chaos. Fortunately, no such disaster has occurred yet.
It was a miracle they were holding on.
“…We will work harder. Especially regarding matters concerning Gio.”
“In that sense, do you have any intention of helping Gio make a new friend? He must be lonely by himself.”
“Are you not even going to bother wrapping it up in a noble cause now? You clearly let everything I just said go in one ear and out the other.”
At this point, it felt like destiny that Gio had ended up with Bisabeol instead of the Association President.
“……”
Well, then again…
As a Gardener, Yoo Seong-un himself was quite a ridiculous fellow for welcoming Bisabeol’s art-friendly opinions.
He nodded. “I’ll ask him.”
He had been planning to go talk to Gio early this morning anyway. Adding one more question would probably be fine.
* * *
Meanwhile, Gio was explaining to his companion.
“I made a few.”
“Kkoong?”
A few?
“Yeah, it is a bit much.”
“Kkoong?”
A bit?
“Yeah, Daddy got a bit carried away. I was so excited I couldn’t control myself.”
“Kkuruk.”
“I’ll reflect on my actions.”
He had handed over about five kilograms of sausage to Yoo Seong-un, but another five kilograms still remained.
“Since I dried them in the sun once, they won’t spoil if I store them in the ice storage, but…”
“Kkurureu?”
“Like I said, I was partly just too excited. But I’ve also been neglecting the waterbirds’ nests lately, so I wanted to give them a gift. I meant for us to share them with everyone instead of eating them all ourselves.”
“Kkururururururuk.”
“I knew you’d like the idea.”
The heap of grilled sausages was so abundant it looked like a small hill. Granted, it was still smaller than the total number of waterbirds living in the forest, but that was just a matter of perspective. The quantity was undeniably excessive.
But Gio remained steadfast.
“Try this one first. I figured you wouldn’t like spicy food, so I made this one mild.”
He was thrilled. Making sausages with ordinary ingredients would have been fun enough, but this was food made with fantasy ingredients.
“This is a sausage made with Arum, Rabeun Walnuts, and vinegar. I also ground up a bit of Milky Way Mary and put it in. Honestly, it’s a bit too mild for my taste… but I thought you’d like it.”
“Kkuruk.”
“Not that I’m saying I won’t eat any, of course.”
For the first time in a while, Gio set up a table outside the cabin and finished preparing the meal. The table was laden with freshly cooked rice from a cauldron, Baibamunil that had been detoxified and seasoned like a wild herb side dish, and piping hot homemade sausages roasted in the oven to a perfect crisp, bursting with juices.
“I’ll grill some more and bring them to the waterbirds’ nests later. I set the table so we could taste them first, so let’s eat slowly and visit the nests afterward. Do you agree, son?”
“Kkurureuk.”
“Yep, you really are my son.”
Putting a whole, uncut sausage into his mouth, Seo Gio nodded inwardly.
Someone who likes strong, stimulating flavors like me might find it a bit bland. Honestly, it’s a little mild, but it’s seasoned well enough to go great with rice.
Perhaps because they had been briefly sun-dried and then grilled, the outside of the sausage was incredibly crispy. Yet, the casing, made from hand-cleaned intestines, was savory and chewy, but so soft it offered no resistance to his teeth. It was a perfect coexistence of crispy, chewy, and tender textures.
“Mmm…”
Snap!
“Ah, hot.”
The filling inside overflowed with juices.
A subtle, woody aroma seeped into his mouth. The sausage, freshly roasted in a wood-fired oven, was hot enough to slightly burn his tongue, but the sweet yet rich juices tightly sealed inside the casing flooded his senses.
Warm.
“……”
And delicious.
Even though it was made mild, the aroma is fantastic.
He had used as little salt as possible to bring out the natural flavor of the meat, instead adding various complex herbs to enhance its profile. The result was the sausage before him.
The nutty aroma of the Rabeun Walnuts perfectly complemented the subtle gaminess of the venison, tying the whole flavor together. Beneath it all, the tangy scent of Arum and the layered sweetness of the Candy Trap Tree vinegar made their presence known—subtle, yet distinct.
Now that I’m eating it, it’s actually better than I expected. I thought it would be completely bland.
The faint bitterness of the vinegar itself and the deep, smoky aroma from the firewood used to grill the sausage also paired wonderfully. Both the sausage and the cooking method were superb.
“I think adding the vinegar was a particularly good choice.”
“Kkoong?”
“Maybe because it’s a naturally fermented fruit vinegar? It has a subtle sweetness, and the sourness and bitterness are just enough to cut through any greasiness without being too sharp. They go so well together.”
Next was the sausage made specifically for Gio himself.
Snap!
“……”
The moment he bit into the red sausage, a fiery heat bloomed across his palate, stimulating every taste bud.
My mouth is on fire.
A pleasant, searing heat coated his tongue.
But the aftertaste doesn’t linger too long. It’s a remarkably smooth, clean spiciness.
The sausage he had made for himself contained every single ingredient he had gathered. There was Milky Way Mary, which delivered a clean heat reminiscent of a cross between chili and black pepper, and Crying Hem, which packed a powerful, fiery kick underscored by a deep, subtle sweetness. Then there was Arum, whose ginger-like fragrance acted as the perfect binding agent, harmonizing the chaotic blend of aromas. Rabeun Walnut draped a smooth, deep richness over everything, and finally, the Candy Trap Tree vinegar cut through it all with a bright acidity, adding a delightful twist to the flavor profile…
“……”
Did I overdo it?
“Still, it tastes good.”
“Ggong.”
“You don’t have to avoid it. You might actually like it if you gave it a try.”
“Ggong, ggong, ggong…”
“Well, if you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”
Regardless of Honey’s aversion to the spicy aroma, the sausage suited Gio’s palate perfectly. It was as if a gnawing emptiness he hadn’t even realized was there had been instantly swept away. It was the deep satisfaction of downing a restorative bowl of ginseng chicken soup in one go, or sinking into a boiling hot spring. It was the profound bliss of sweating out every impurity in a searingly hot sauna, all while sipping an ice-cold, slushy drink through a straw—a sense of fulfillment that hit exactly where he needed it most.
“Ah, this is the life.”
Happiness truly wasn’t far away.
I was worried since it was my first time using these ingredients, but they turned out even better than expected.
Although the sausage was designed to be spicy, the subtle sweetness and the rich fat coating the meat kept the heat incredibly clean. When it came to spicy food, as long as the heat was clean, it was already ninety percent of the way to success.
“It was definitely worth learning how to cook. This is exactly when Grandmother’s culinary touch comes in handy.”
“Ggong, ggong, ggong, ggong, ggong…”
“It’s not that I made it wrong, we just have different tastes.”
This was the epitome of a deliciously spicy flavor. As a true connoisseur, Gio was someone who could thoroughly enjoy the fiercest spicy chicken feet. Normally, if fire chicken feet proved too much to handle, one could dip them in sesame oil or wash them down with a sweet drink. It was a way to compose oneself and continue eating like a civilized person. The sausage he had made today followed that exact principle.
The overall taste and aroma are spicy and sharp, but Crying Hem inherently carries a subtle sweetness beneath its heat. On top of that, Rabeun Walnut has that gentle, buttery sweetness unique to nuts. And of course, there’s the vinegar naturally fermented from the Candy Trap Tree, which is famous for its incredibly sweet fruit…
Whenever the spices threatened to become overwhelming, the milder aromas stepped in to keep them in check. Whenever the heat flared too high, the generous amount of venison fat he had added washed over his tongue like silk, soothing the burn. And just when the fat threatened to feel greasy, the vinegar asserted its presence with a sharp tang, settling his stomach.
The overall balance was impeccable.
Arum also played a massive role, acting as a binding agent to seamlessly fuse the dizzying array of complex flavors and aromas. Its effect is far better than I anticipated.
Even as he chewed, Gio was already brainstorming his next culinary creation.
“If I add Arum whenever I’m throwing a bunch of random ingredients together, it’ll instantly elevate the quality of the dish.”
“Ggong…?”
“I’ll make it less spicy next time. You seem to have a low tolerance for heat.”
Arum reigned in the wild, clashing personalities of the various spices, anchoring them in perfect harmony. Its binding power was so effective that despite the sheer complexity of the flavors, the dish didn’t feel overwhelming in the slightest.
Plus, I really paid attention to the texture of this sausage.
Gio nodded to himself.
“It’s got a pretty nice chew to it, doesn’t it?”
“Ggureureuk.”
“Right? It’s delicious. Varying the grind of the meat definitely made the texture much more dynamic. I’ll have to put some thought into the texture for the next batch, too.”
“Ggok, ggok…”
“I think this all the time, but I really love how mold doesn’t grow in this forest.”
If it weren’t for that, he wouldn’t have even dreamed of attempting this.
I used actual, highly moist intestines for the casing… Under normal circumstances, I’d be lucky if they didn’t rot during the process.
An uneven grind meant air pockets would form inside the casing, which usually guaranteed mold growth. At least, that was the fate of every sausage Gio had ever attempted to make in the past.
Weak-willed little bastards.
If you were true pork, you should have had the sheer grit to fight off a little mold.
“Hmm.”
In any case, thanks to the forest’s unique environment, the texture of this sausage was absolutely superb. The finely minced meat, smooth as paste, melted against his palate to delight his tongue before he even began to chew, while the coarser, uneven chunks of meat offered a delightful, springy resistance with every bite.
The juices are practically overflowing… and the texture of the natural casing is far better than I imagined.
Perhaps because the casing was so plump, it felt like chewing on thin, grilled small intestines. The pre-cleaned casing had absolutely no unpleasant odor, offering only the signature chewiness and rich, savory flavor of offal. Moreover, having been roasted over the hearth, the outer skin was as crispy as a cracker, while the inside remained wonderfully tender. He could even catch a faint, pleasant hint of nutty bitterness.
“……”
Gio murmured.
“This is perfect.”
He wanted to live like this forever.
In perfect peace.