Chapter 50
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 50
The hunters of old used to say: never trust a monster.
They weren’t wrong.
Cha Ah-ra shared the hunter community’s bone-deep distrust of monsters.
In truth, "distrust" was too mild a word. After all, no one "distrusted" a wild boar charging down a mountainside.
Trusting them is just stupid.
The relationship wasn’t one of trust or mistrust; by their very nature, hunters and monsters were locked in a struggle for survival.
These monsters primarily dwelled in dungeons, though some had made their way to Earth in recent years. While they varied wildly in size and temperament, they all had one thing in common: they were dangerous.
Monsters are inherently hostile to all life on Earth.
It didn’t matter how trivial or how powerful their abilities were. The constant, one-sided hostility from a non-human entity was enough to fray anyone’s sanity.
"..."
Which was why Cha Ah-ra found her current situation so difficult to accept.
"You should watch your step."
"Ah, yes?"
"There is a drop-off right ahead."
"Oh..."
"Your eyesight is poor."
No, your eyes are just incredibly sharp.
Though there’s no point saying that to a monster; he wouldn’t understand.
The bird the Black Cloak called Honey had briefly illuminated the cavern, but its light soon softened to a faint glow as it retreated back inside his hood.
As a result, Cha Ah-ra found herself following the Black Cloak, guided only by the dim light emanating from the Anti-Cat.
Is it because he’s so pitch-black? Even though he’s close, I can barely see him. If it weren’t for the Anti-Cat, I really might not have been able to follow him…
Still, she could tell that this "Seo Gio" was being considerate.
Even if his imitation of a human is a bit clumsy.
After all, who on earth would walk into a freezing cave barefoot?
In truth, Gio had his reasons. He often walked barefoot outside his portraits simply because he always took his shoes off at home. Since his paintings served as passages, his starting point was usually the studio in his cabin. Coming straight to the dungeon from there, he hadn’t bothered to put on shoes.
He had assumed that since the Vein of Jewels was dark, no one he might run into would be looking at his feet.
"..."
To Cha Ah-ra, however, it just seemed like a clumsy attempt to mimic human dress.
"Um, excuse me, but about your home..."
"We are almost there."
"O-oh, really?"
His surprisingly gentle treatment put Cha Ah-ra slightly at ease.
...Seeing how he answers every question, he doesn’t seem to harbor any ill will toward me.
Ordinary monsters lacked this level of intelligence and couldn’t even be compared. But fundamentally, monsters were creatures of instinct, not reason. The moment they saw a human, their only desire was to spill their entrails.
I heard humanoid monsters aren’t much different...
Even a monster’s goodwill was a disaster from a human’s perspective.
So, while she couldn’t quite understand this polite treatment, Cha Ah-ra suppressed her fear as best she could and followed the Black Cloak.
If I stayed there, I would’ve starved to death anyway. I have to try something.
As Cha Ah-ra steeled her resolve, the Black Cloak stopped in his tracks.
He pointed to the wall.
"We are here."
"..."
A frame?
...It’s an empty frame showing only a forest background. There’s no person in it.
It could have been called a landscape painting, but a lingering emptiness suggested the work was incomplete.
"...Ah."
She soon realized it looked somewhat familiar.
"Is this perhaps the one from last time...?"
"Yes. It is where I reside."
"...Ah, I see."
A portrait. She didn’t fully understand, but she knew the Black Cloak’s essence was that of a portrait.
Was he also in the form of a portrait when we met before?
The Black Cloak extended his hand.
"Please, go in."
"..."
It would be a lie to say she wasn’t terrified.
...But staying here would only mean starving to death.
She was sick of starving in the pitch-black darkness, waiting for new hunters who might never come. Some might call it a foolish decision, but Cha Ah-ra refused to let go of the opportunity right in front of her.
"Whew..."
With a slightly trembling hand, she took his.
"...Ah...!"
Instantly, her mind went blank.
Cha Ah-ra felt her body slipping into the painting. She didn’t feel like herself anymore. She experienced a hazy, floating sensation, followed by hundreds of bizarre feelings washing over her. Then, just as suddenly, she regained her senses.
"..."
As if the momentary confusion had never occurred, she was greeted by crisp, gentle air and the return of her own rational mind.
"..."
"Are you alright?"
"...Y-yes."
It had happened in the blink of an eye.
...Just now, what was that...?
And yet, in the moment she passed through the frame, she had felt a chilling, infinite vastness.
"..."
It was terror.
Or perhaps loneliness.
Having never attended school, Cha Ah-ra lacked the vocabulary to describe the sensation. If she were to describe it much later, she would call it a chilling and bizarre feeling, as if she had been left utterly alone in the vastness of space for a brief moment.
"...Where is this...?"
"This is the house where I reside."
As the Black Cloak spoke, he set down the Anti-Cat.
"Honey, this is your younger sibling now, so take care of it."
"Krrruuuk."
"Good bird."
The sight of him talking to a bird made of water was like a scene straight out of a fairy tale.
"..."
The space itself was no different.
Drawers lined the walls, packed to the brim. The air smelled of nature-scented paints, and blank canvases rested on hand-carved wooden easels.
"...A studio?"
And yet.
Why is it empty?
Not a single canvas had a painting on it.
The air was mild, and the scene was peaceful. But the space mostly resembled a human dwelling, and the subtle, uncanny differences sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"Yes, it is my studio."
"This might be an intrusive question, but... there are no paintings."
"I am always painting."
"..."
"They have simply ceased to be paintings now."
It was an enigmatic answer that made her spine tingle even more.
"Completed paintings leave on their own, or... remain like this."
"...Wasn’t it a passage? This was, uh, a painting?"
"It is both a passage and a painting."
Answering bluntly, the monster covered the 'Vein of Jewels' frame—the very passage she had just emerged from—with a black cloth.
Only then did Cha Ah-ra realize there were several other frames covered with cloth scattered throughout the studio.
"..."
"Would you like to look around?"
"Ah, no."
"Indeed. You must be hungry."
Cha Ah-ra blinked at his words.
...Did his voice change somehow?
No, the voice itself was no different. But...
"Are you no longer afraid of me?"
"...Pardon? Ah, yes?"
"I asked because you seem more relaxed than before."
"Well, uh, that is..."
"..."
As Cha Ah-ra stammered, the monster tilted his head, waiting patiently. Sensing his consideration once more, she managed to calm herself and speak.
"...Yes, I think... I’m less scared than before..."
"I am glad."
The Black Cloak’s voice was polite and soft.
"Whenever I go outside, people fear me. I believe it is because I am a portrait."
He opened the studio door.
"The kitchen is on the first floor."
"The kitchen..."
It was a remarkably domestic word to hear in a monster’s lair.
Feeling a strange awkwardness, Cha Ah-ra summoned her courage and asked, "C-can I come with you?"
"Of course."
"Thank you..."
Cha Ah-ra followed behind the monster, just as she had in the Vein of Jewels. The atmosphere, however, was entirely different now.
...It’s incredibly bright.
To be precise, "warm" or "gentle" was a better description than "bright."
The warm air filled the space, gently relaxing her stiff limbs, yet there was a heavy, quiet stillness to it.
"..."
Why was that?
It looks like something out of a fairy tale.
A fragrant scent wafted from the wooden walls. Though the stairs were made of a hard material, they felt so soft she could have been tricked into thinking they were cushioned. The cabin, bathed in gentle sunlight, had a cozy atmosphere reminiscent of freshly dried blankets.
And yet, strangely...
Cha Ah-ra couldn’t shake the feeling that this place was like a tomb.
"..."
"You may look around."
"Pardon?"
"It will take some time to prepare the meal."
The Black Cloak’s voice held an aristocratic elegance.
"In the meantime, it would be best for you to rest and look around the cabin."
"Would... would that be alright?"
"I will brew some fruit tea for you. Would you like to carry it with you?"
"Ah."
Fruit tea.
Isn’t that incredibly expensive?
While she hesitated, the Black Cloak stepped into the kitchen and soon returned with a glass. The tea shimmered with the mysterious hues of a sunset, looking more like a magic potion. It was chilled, likely by the round ice cubes floating within.
"You may sit on the sofa and drink it."
"T-thank you."
Did all humanoid monsters act so human?
Well, they are called "humanoid," so I guess it makes sense in a way...
Taking the glass, Cha Ah-ra carefully sat on the sofa.
She sank into the cushions.
It’s incredibly plush.
It must be an expensive sofa. But then she realized a monster wouldn’t buy furniture according to human rules, which made her feel a bit foolish.
Trying to understand a monster’s world from a human perspective was a fool’s errand to begin with.
"...It smells really nice..."
Though it looked more like a work of art than a beverage, it gave off a very gentle, sweet aroma.
"..."
She took a sip.
A mild sweetness enveloped her mouth.
"Wow..."
A faint flush returned to Cha Ah-ra’s pale cheeks.
...What is this? It’s delicious. Is all fruit tea like this...?
Since sugar itself was so rare, Cha Ah-ra had never eaten a proper piece of fruit, let alone tried fruit tea. For a moment, she wondered if all fruit teas in the world tasted this good, but as she continued to sip, she realized something extraordinary.
"..."
She wasn’t hungry anymore.
Well, she was still hungry, but...
The terrible, gnawing hunger that felt like a fork scraping the inside of her stomach had vanished.
What is this? Was it actually a potion?
Then again, it was fruit tea from a dungeon where a humanoid monster lived. Perhaps she shouldn’t compare it to ordinary human fruit tea.
As she slowly pieced the situation together, Cha Ah-ra pressed her lips together.
"...Mmm..."
She felt strangely good.
It wasn’t enough to make her giggle, but a ticklish feeling inside told her she had relaxed. The stress from her job and the resentment toward the teammates who’d abandoned her seemed to fade slightly.
"..."
She finished the fruit tea in no time.
...My body feels so light.
Whether the tea had some special effect or not, her remaining injuries and fatigue had been washed away. With her tension dissolved, Cha Ah-ra was able to look around with a bit more ease.
"The ceiling is incredibly high."
She had been too tense to notice before, but now she realized it had taken them quite a while to descend the stairs. Although it was only a two-story building, its scale was immense.
Still, the reason it doesn’t feel like the wealthy homes I’ve seen in dramas must be because this is also a kind of dungeon. Since a monster lives here, I suppose this place is a dungeon in its own right...
Cha Ah-ra blinked slowly.
The faint clatter from the kitchen, the slow breeze of a spring day. The chirping of birds from outside the window was clear and resonant, like vibrating glass beads.
"I’m getting a bit sleepy..."
She kept thinking it, but it really did feel like a fairy tale.
"..."
And yet.
It also resembled a funeral.
"...Is it because it’s so quiet?"
It was different from sadness or grief. It didn’t resemble anyone’s sorrowful weeping, nor did it resemble visitors quietly mourning. It simply felt heavy and abundant, like several white chrysanthemums placed silently before a portrait of the deceased.
"Hmm..."
It was an atmosphere hard to describe.
It’s not uncomfortable.
It was just peaceful.
To an almost suffocating degree.
"Cha Ah-ra."
"..."
"Cha Ah-ra."
"Ah, y-yes! Hunter Cha Ah-ra, present!"
"I know. You do not need to be so tense."
The monster who emerged from the kitchen had taken off his cloak at some point.
"..."
"Are you having trouble moving?"
"Ah, no."
Wow.
Crazy.
How can a person look like that?
Ah, no, he’s a monster, so I shouldn’t call him a person... but he really is insanely handsome.
Why was someone who looked like he belonged in a museum preparing a meal in a cabin like this? He was so handsome it created a sense of distance. In many ways, he didn’t seem human.
Unaware of Cha Ah-ra’s thoughts, the monster spoke in his characteristically blunt tone.
"I have prepared a light meal. I hope it is to your liking."
"Ah, thank you."
And then, Cha Ah-ra witnessed an unexpected sight.
"..."
"Do you like white rice?"
"I love it. I just rarely get the chance to eat it..."
"Are there any side dishes you dislike?"
"I wouldn’t dare complain when I’m being treated to a meal. But, no. Um..."
"Is there a problem?"
"...Are you Korean?"
What was this? A seven-dish spread?
"I introduced myself as Seo Gio. Does it not sound like a Korean name?"
"Ah, I see."
She had been too terrified to consider if his name sounded Korean, and she certainly never expected a creature with such a noble, refined, yet gloomy face to prepare such a warm and comforting meal.
So that’s why he’s Seo Gio.
She only now understood that his three-syllable name was meant to evoke a Korean feel.
As she stared at the spread of white rice and various side dishes—foods she rarely had the chance to eat—Cha Ah-ra felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
...Why does this feel like my late grandmother’s cooking?
Cha Ah-ra felt a bit conflicted.
Considering the noble aura of the humanoid monster named Seo Gio, the scene should have been jarring. Yet, it looked so natural that it was all the more uncanny.
"..."
Suddenly, Cha Ah-ra identified one of her own emotions.
"Please, help yourself."
"...Yes."
It was very faint, a rather mismatched sentiment for this peaceful atmosphere.
But it was a form of awe.
"Thank you."
An emotion one could only feel toward a non-human entity.
...It might sound ridiculous after receiving such a familiar, home-cooked meal, but...
Cha Ah-ra suddenly looked up and met Seo Gio’s eyes.
She saw ordinary black eyes.
"..."
"Is there a problem?"
"...No."
Right now, he looked quite human.
"Thank you for the meal."
But he had never truly felt human.
And since the emotion she felt was no longer fear, she had no choice but to call it awe.