Chapter 75
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 75
He was lost.
“Fuck, where the hell is this place…?”
It wasn’t called a ‘kingdom’ for nothing. Even for an Entry Dungeon, the ‘Deep Sea Kingdom’ was ridiculously massive.
And it wasn’t as if the monsters were weak, either. Stages 1 and 2 had been manageable, but the moment he entered Stage 3, where the temple began to take proper shape, it became hard to even breathe.
“The map, the map… the map…”
Unfortunately, this was a newly discovered dungeon. Its basic layout hadn’t even been mapped yet.
…
And the companions of the hunter currently wandering through this maze? They were all dead.
“…What should I do?”
What could he do? There was nothing left but to die.
The hunter slumped to the ground, chuckling without humor. The cold, shimmering ripples of light on the cavern ceiling looked like the shadow of some great monster, a terrifying and constant presence.
“…We shouldn’t have come here.”
Left all alone, his mind flooded with regrets.
In truth, it had been the team leader, not him, who had insisted on coming here. But with his companions dead and him the sole survivor, he couldn’t help but blame himself. The man forced down his tears and pushed himself to keep moving.
“Fuck, is this a temple or a cave? The paths are so damn complicated…”
Everything looked the same, yet he could never find the same path twice.
He was moving, yes, but instead of finding an exit, he felt like he was only heading deeper inside. Yet, if he stopped to hide, he knew the dungeon’s dangerous monsters and traps would find him.
“Dammit…”
He huffed, fighting back a fresh wave of despair.
I have to survive, if only to file the recovery requests for them.
When a guild-affiliated hunter died in a dungeon, their guild usually recovered the remains. Freelance hunters and civilians didn’t have that luxury. If a freelancer wanted to recover a companion’s body, they had to personally verify the death and submit an application to the Hunter Association.
But I… I don’t even have the strength to get their bodies…
The only reason he had survived this long was his Stealth skill.
“I have to get out alive first. Right, so I can get paid… or whatever…”
He was trying to steel his resolve by focusing on the rewards of escape when something caught his eye.
…
A portrait.
“?”
It was a portrait of a person whose face was obscured, smeared over with black paint.
It was eerie.
“…Wh-what is this?”
Under normal circumstances, he would have dismissed it as just another piece of dungeon decoration. But in this temple, where the same scenery repeated endlessly, the portrait felt completely out of place.
Even though its eyes were covered, he could feel a gaze emanating from it.
…
He walked right past it.
It could be a dangerous item. Or a monster disguised as a portrait…
The painting itself exuded a chillingly heavy atmosphere. Unlike the pure white stone of the temple, it was set in a dark wooden frame. It seemed to be gilded with gold leaf, yet it radiated a strange warmth that clashed with the cold dungeon air. If anything, that warmth made him want to avoid it even more. The sense of incongruity was overwhelming.
…
But when he snapped out of his thoughts and looked around, the frame was there again.
“…It… it wasn’t here before…”
It wasn’t just once or twice.
“It was in the hallway just now.”
He could still feel its gaze.
It felt as if the portrait was following him.
…
Perhaps it really was.
His hands and feet trembled and his breath caught in his throat, but a sliver of hope sparked in the mind of the hunter, who had been pushed to his absolute limit. It was an irrational thought, but he couldn’t help it. No one in their right mind would view this phenomenon positively, but he forced himself to rationalize it. He simply wanted to believe.
Could it be… some kind of item? A key to escaping?
In dungeons where the narrative was important, a single item like this could sometimes hold the power to aid the raid. Even if it didn’t actually increase his chances of survival, the hunter—his mind frayed from exhaustion—approached the portrait.
“If only I had an Appraisal Skill… What is this…”
“Hello.”
…
He flinched, stumbling back.
“…Wh-what…?”
“I am a portrait.”
“Huh…?”
“What is your name?”
…
“I am curious about your name.”
The lips on the lower half of the face, the part not covered in black paint, asked once more.
“Would you like to speak with me?”
“…Right now…”
What was this?
A portrait is talking? A portrait?
Even in a world where supernatural powers were commonplace, a talking portrait was not something one saw every day. The hunter trapped in the ‘Deep Sea Kingdom’ had certainly never seen one in his entire life.
“Wh-who…”
“I am a portrait.”
The same voice, the same line.
…
Goosebumps broke out over his skin. The voice, so flawlessly perfect it was almost sinister, sounded incredibly sweet and gentle. He wondered if this was what a devil would sound like. The hunter barely managed to pull himself together and replied.
“I’m… Park Yun-shin…”
He knew the danger of giving out his real name, but he was too far gone to care. The only thought in his mind was that he had to obey the entity before him.
He felt both terror and mercy.
“Yes, uh, Park Yun-shin. Park Yun-shin…”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Park Yun-shin.”
“…You’re… a portrait, you say?”
“That is correct.”
The pale lower face spoke again.
“I am a portrait.”
…
Only then did the hunter realize that not a single monster was approaching the area.
…Things are taking a strange turn…
He felt as if he were possessed. The portrait, merely a painting, exuded an atmosphere so heavy it was bizarre. It was qualitatively different from the vibe of the temple. It felt as somber as attending a Pope’s funeral. That was the bizarre sensation that washed over him.
…
Just as his mind was going blank—
“Excuse me.”
“Y-yes?”
The black paint on the portrait began to bulge outward, as if wrapping around something.
As the hunter recoiled in horror, a human figure wrapped in a pitch-black cloak materialized right in front of the painting. Though the portrait hung halfway up the wall and the figure descended as if falling, its feet made no sound as they touched the ground.
“Ah…”
Just a soft rustle.
…
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Park Yun-shin.”
Footsteps echoed softly.
They sounded truly human.
…
No, why did he think that? Why did those footsteps sound human?
Have I gone mad? Am I under some kind of brainwashing skill?
Just as confusion took over, the hunter remembered something.
“Ah, ah, ah…!”
Black Cloak.
“The B-Black… Black Cl… Cloak.”
“Yes, I am wearing a black cloak.”
“…Black Cloak…”
It was the monster. The one the Association had a bounty out on for any information.
…This is a monster?
A sudden doubt arose.
This…?
The hunter hesitated, looking at the Black Cloak.
It wore a pitch-black cloak pulled low, like the Grim Reaper. As the fabric slipped slightly off its shoulders, he could see the body underneath was clad in a pitch-black suit and shirt, both of which were an unnaturally deep, absorbing black.
…
There was clearly a physical form, which was why he could see the rounded shape of a head beneath the cloak.
…Even the hands… though pale, the skin is visible. That means there’s a human body inside…
And yet, he had the unshakable feeling that there was no face under that hood.
No, more like…
It felt as if there was absolutely nothing there at all.
…
“Mr. Park Yun-shin.”
“…Um, yes, I…”
If this thing calls my name three times, will I die? They say if the Grim Reaper calls your name three times, you die.
He didn’t necessarily think the Black Cloak and the Grim Reaper were the same, but an atmosphere suffocatingly close to death hung in the air. Overwhelmed by a sense of awe, as if standing before an existence he dared not look upon, the confused hunter bowed his head deeply.
“I-I’m sorry for waking you. I was just…”
“You are a good person.”
It was a declaration, as if bestowing a title upon him. It sounded vaguely divine, like a prophecy handed down by a god.
…
“Therefore, I shall help you.”
The Black Cloak offered him something.
“…Th-this is…”
It was a round bead that looked as if it were made of solid gold. It was surprisingly heavy, and a powerful, sweet scent that seemed to bewitch the mind wafted from it.
“What is this…?”
“It is an apology for startling you, and a gift for you, who have suffered.”
“A gift…?”
“It is yours.”
“…Uh…”
“Eat it.”
Eat it?
This?
It didn’t look edible at all. Yet, an intense urge to put it in his mouth and make it his own welled up inside him. The bead was just that beautifully shaped.
I want to eat it.
…
Bewitched by the scent, the hunter popped the bead into his mouth.
Ah.
An ecstatic sweetness gently washed over his entire body. He could vividly feel every single cell in his body settling into place. A sense of sheer bliss washed over him, a feeling akin to a spring breeze on a quiet afternoon. The freshness, like a fruit bursting with juice condensed to its absolute limit, paired exquisitely with the gentle, golden warmth of the bead.
“…U-uh?”
“Has the bleeding stopped?”
“This, this… Yes, how did this… Why?”
“I see.”
…
The Black Cloak looked down at the hunter with an inorganic gaze, like a researcher observing a predetermined result. Though the hunter shrank back from the uncanny feeling that this being was by no means human, he simultaneously felt strangely honored.
He was glad to have provided the result the being expected. It was a feeling he couldn’t consciously recognize or understand.
“Do you wish to leave?”
“…Leave?”
His bowed head snapped up.
“C-can I… leave?”
“I can let you out.”
“Ah…”
Only then did the information posted on the Association’s website cross his mind.
The first person who discovered it… they also said they escaped the Deep Sea Kingdom with the help of the Black Cloak.
Filled with sudden hope, he looked up at where the face should be—
…
…
Their eyes met.
Eyes?
Yes, eyes. He could see pupils and irises.
But they weren’t spheres. Were they flat? No, perhaps they were three-dimensional. But he could see lines. Elegant lines. And there wasn’t just one. Multiple lines were tangled together like tree roots, yet they appeared as a single, unified whole.
What color were they? Gold? No, they were dark. So dark they seemed bright. Black, then? But they were closer to silver. Where on earth did the rumor about them being silver come from? They were so dark. They were so bright. What on earth was he looking at?
Was I even allowed to look at this in the first place?
Just as he was being captivated, too dazed to even feel fear—
“Mr. Park Yun-shin.”
…
“I have a question for you.”
“…A question…?”
Ah, right. It had said it had something to ask.
“Yes, y-yes. Yes… anything.”
“May I paint you?”
“…Paint me…?”
He couldn’t remember much after that.
His mind became incomparably fainter than when he had first laid eyes on the Black Cloak. He lost all awareness of himself as a living creature. His entire body felt like it was melting away, but there was no fear, only a cozy comfort, as if he were lying in a forest swaying in a spring breeze.
And when he came to, he was in the middle of the city.
…
Only then did he realize that he had witnessed a miracle.
*
“…And that is…”
Park Yun-shin continued speaking to the researcher in front of him.
“…what happened to me.”
“Turning a person into paint and using it to create a picture…”
“At the time, I barely thought it was strange,” Park Yun-shin said, his voice distant. “I knew that being able to converse with a monster was extremely rare, but I felt almost no surprise. It just felt like an existence so wise and sagacious that it seemed to know everything in the world, including me…”
The researcher asked, “Do you feel a desire to revere him?”
“…A little, yes. He showed me a miracle.”
“A miracle that turns people into paint. And you say there was no pain?”
“After I came to… I was very confused.”
A human with a perfectly intact sense of self had become paint, then a painting, and then returned to being human. Having been forced to perceive the world from the perspective of an inanimate object—something completely unimaginable—the aftereffects were bound to be severe.
“…But I don’t harbor any ill feelings toward the Black Cloak…”
It was simply terrifying, vast, and wondrous.
“Because it was just so, so beautiful…”
Even though his life could hardly be described as one close to the arts, he knew that this was art. A masterpiece. Its vast presence, which felt sacred and noble, and its geometric yet brilliant structure were more than enough to make his heart race.
“The Black Cloak is definitely favorable toward humans. No, rather than favor, it’s closer to mercy. He showed mercy. And he didn’t ask for anything in return.”
“Yes, thank you for agreeing to this interview.” The researcher nodded. “The information you provided about the Black Cloak has been a great help. You can collect your reward at the Association lobby counter. If you have anything else to share, or if we have further questions, please feel free to contact us at any time.”
“Excuse me.”
“Yes, Hunter Park Yun-shin.”
“Is he really a monster?”
…
The researcher paused.
“Hunter Park Yun-shin, you refer to it as a ‘person.’”
With that, the conversation came to an end.