The Artist Who Paints Dungeon

Rustle…

“……”

A long and pale hand disturbs the delicately dried light sky-blue flower petals.

It was Gio.

“Hmm.”

He was making medicine.

“Seems like all have dried up now.”

It has been eleven days since he dried the boiled Vaivamnil flowers on Salasala tree leaves.

The flowers, dried under the warm breeze and sunlight, hardly emitted any scent. It was a different feeling from the strong fragrance that had emanated when they were first boiled in water to remove the toxins.

Seo Gio murmured softly as he carefully packed the well-dried flowers into a sterilized glass jar.

“I wonder if a good hemostatic medicine can be made by brewing tea with this … But no matter how I look at it, isn’t this just flower tea?”

Gio’s eyes then turned to another tray. It was the tray where the Goby fruits had been left to dry.

“……”

The Goby fruits, which had dried up as much as raisins in just eleven days, had turned a peculiar deep yellow colour.

“It seems the scent gets stronger the more it dries.”

In terms of the intensity of the scent, the Goby fruits and Vaivamil were complete opposites. The scent of the Goby fruits became stronger as they dried, while the Vaivamil’s scent weakened.

“……”

Gio’s eyes blinked rapidly twice as he calculated the work he had to do in the future.

“… Seems like there’s still a long way to go before it’s dry enough to be powdered.”

Darn, it’s still moist.

“You have the qualifications to become my colleague, crispy on the outside, moist on the inside fried potato.”

He coolly gave up on the Goby fruits and only took the Vaivamil into the cabin.

The system explained that Vaivamnil herbal tea greatly aids in hemostasis and immunity. It didn’t specify the exact temperature or how much to take, though.

‘Maybe I’m supposed to figure it out myself. Seems like this friend called system trusts me too much, I wish it didn’t do that though. I’m just a newly born potato from Gangwon Province ….’

Though with that in mind, Gio decided to brew the tea as he saw fit. Cool potato Seo Gio also had talent in tea ceremonies.

“…Hmm…”

Gio, who had placed the jar containing the flowers on the dining table, paused for a moment.

“……”

As if a computer was rebooting, he stood there blankly and then opened his mouth.

“Seems like I don’t have a tea set.”

Tea set.

Simply put, teaware.

“Right?”

To put it more simply, it means a teapot and teacups. Seo Gio, who had a keen interest in gourmet food, was also well-versed in tea sets used for brewing tea.

There are various types of teaware including a teapot for brewing tea leaves, teacups for pouring the brewed tea, a cooling bowl for cooling the tea, and a tea waste bowl for throwing away the tea leaving only the scent.

Among them, Gio decided to make only a teapot and teacups.

“Let’s go to the studio.”

Fortunately, Gio had the ability to turn paintings into real objects.

“To think I’d have superpowers at this age… Indeed, no matter how worn out an adult had become due to society, they must have some childlike innocence in their hearts to become a magical girl someday.”

So said the 29-year-old man.

“I’m a potato, a cool potato.”

Under the beautiful names of friendship, peace, and love, Gio honourably ignored the unusual changes happening in his life.

‘The direction I take is the path itself.’

Even if it’s a derailed roller coaster.

Yet perhaps due to consideration of how he lived so thoughtlessly, this world helped Gio in various ways. The structure of the cabin, the furniture, and the household items were the same, and there was even a studio, reflecting Seo Gio’s taste who had painted several works even after becoming a teacher.

Going to the second floor, Gio headed to the studio that occupied half of the floor.

“Let’s see…”

He sat in front of an easel with a canvas on it. There were various paints and brushes in shapes familiar to Gio.

“What should I draw?”

Gio had to draw a tea set. It would be filled with Vaivamnil flower tea full of vanilla scent.

As the saying goes, if it’s the same price, might as well go for the red skirt. Since it doesn’t cost more to draw more elaborately, Gio thought deeply about it.¹

“……”

About ten minutes passed like that. After a while, Gio, with the canvas in front of him, finally opened his mouth.

“… The tea will come out with a pretty colour.”

His characteristic calm and even tone flowed out as if reasoning with his students.

“White porcelain would be good.”

What makes a good tea set? Gio, who had seriously brewed tea several times before, knew the answer.

First, it must be pleasing to the eye.

“As white as a blank canvas.”

Second, it must be comfortable to hold.

“With a sense of stability…”

Third, it must be in harmony with the tea.

“It should have a clean colour.”

Gio may not be a great artisan, but he enjoyed his modest world of gourmet food.

Since he had painstakingly made precious flower tea, he naturally wanted to brew it in an excellent tea set.

“……”

He chose a fine-grained white paint. It was a dense colour, like whipped cream stood up straight.

The studio in the cabin was like an old pharmacy, with all sorts of materials hidden in small drawers. Among them were seashells that shone white like porcelain, which Gio had finely ground and made into paint.

Paint made from seashells that should be found near the water. Pure white teaware painted with that paint. That teaware to brew the light sky blue petals ….

“Alright.”

Nice.

“It seems good.”

He was pleased.

“It will look exactly like a pond contained in the roots of a spring. That should do.”

His hand moved.

And following that hand gesture, Gio’s eyes moved as if licking the canvas.

“……”

Since the tea inside would be blue, the colour should be warm rather than cool.

Both actual temperature and the visual temperature contribute to making the body feel warm. He wanted to drink warm tea.

“……”

This teaware would have been made with hands as delicate as silk.

With hands so delicate that not a single fingerprint would be left on the moist white clay, he would have gently and slowly worked on it, turning the potter’s wheel while humming a tune on a leisurely spring day.

Perhaps the person moulding the clay has been wearing a warm smile that would put onlookers at ease.

“……”

Because it would be lifted with a light and kind heart, the handle is heavy and smooth. The handle, extended to the side for an easy grip, is like ivory. It emits such a warm light.

Round off the edges. Round off the body as well. Smoothen the surface so gently so that there are no sharp edges. Gently stroke the moist clay to tidy up the inside, and then bake it in a hot kiln.

What would it call itself?

“……”

It is a clean canvas, without any drawings or curves. It would also be good for containing tea.

Its glaze resembles a clear, unblemished water stream. It covered the pure white porcelain meticulously, as if it had been dipped a hundred times into clean water and then coated with melted transparent stars.

The round teaware was once again baked in the kiln ….

“……”

The moment he drew out its shadow, giving it weight.

“……”

And with a thud.

It falls onto Gio’s lap.

“……”

Clatter.

A light and transparent sound.

‘But sturdy ….’

He put down the brush and grasped the teaware in his hand. The sensation wrapping around his palm was as desperate as a child searching for their father.

“Alright.”

And finally, he was really pleased with how it was as light as a cloud and as soft as cotton.

Being able to turn paintings into reality was a wonderful thing.

‘Convenient.’

Gio leisurely enjoyed his tea.

The teaware, made with paint instead of clay and glaze, pleased Gio. It matched very well with the gently flowing blue Vaivamnil tea.

'Perhaps because of the high density of white colour, it harmonizes well with the creamy soft scent from the flowers.'

The grip felt in his hand was also stable. Unless someone charged like a bull and delivered a soccer kick, it seemed unlikely to slip away.

“It’s good.”

The tea was savoury without being sweet, but the aroma was so vividly sweet that he thought it would go well with cookies if eaten together later.

‘How about making iced tea with fruit and sugar? Or it would go very well with milk tea too, especially with its strong creamy scent….’

There’s no oven, but there is a hearth, and there’s flour in the storage, so he should try making cookies someday. As the ancient saying goes, the more food, the better.

‘This is said to be very helpful for hemostasis and immunity, but it doesn’t feel convincing.’

Gio was a little puzzled.

“Has my body changed?”

Originally, Seo Gio was a person who saw great effects from the efficacy of the ingredients he consumed.

It’s commonly known that blueberries are good for the eyes, but unlike others who don’t feel much change after eating them, Seo Gio felt his eyes become refreshed even after eating just a few.

But even though he was drinking medicinal tea recognized by the system, he felt no change ….

“……”

Gio blinked twice.

‘If I think about it, then it’s strange that this body has no physiological phenomena at all.’

Yet before even starting with the ‘w’ of ‘worry’, Gio stopped. The cool potato had already understood well.

He could eat and sleep, but he never felt too cold or too hot beyond the normal extent. He had never sweated, and in the same context, he never had to rely on a toilet—regardless of whether there was a bathroom in the cabin or not.

‘Let’s just say I’ve evolved exceptionally. I don’t know why I’m worrying about something so pointless when I’ve already become a haunted portrait.’

Anyway, it’s funny so it’s alright.

Thinking that way, Gio took another sip of the Vaivamnil tea.

“……”

It was delicious.

“Sir?”

“……”

“You’re not responding today either, I’m very sad. Aren’t you lonely being in there by yourself? I can be a really good conversation partner….”

“……”

“Sir, are you sleeping? Knock knock knock? Are you not responding because it’s in Korean? But that can’t be it, there hasn’t been a response in any of the 27 languages ….”

It’s delicious, but feels like he would get indigestion.

‘Then that person would be recorded in history as the only human who made a haunted portrait suffer indigestion while drinking tea.’

It’s been eleven days since the gentleman named Bi Sa-beol started his self-promotion in front of the front door.

‘The time of the world inside the painting flows according to my mood and schedule, so it’s not accurate, but anyway …’

It was impressive how much passion and sincerity he showed to a portrait he had only briefly made eye contact with.

“Is he someone obsessed with ghost stories?”

It’s possible that he was thrilled by an amazing painting that was able to open its eyes on its own. That’s the charm of a haunted portrait.

But the fact that this man named Bi Sa-beol wasn’t such an idle person pushed Gio into a world of fear and craziness.

“I heard he’s the chairman of one of the top three conglomerates in South Korea ….”

Chairman, what are you doing instead of working?

The warehouse where Gio’s Portrait was hung was Bi Sa-beol’s personal gallery, and he had a very strong desire to collect art pieces … This was known through conversations with other employees who often visited the gallery.

Maybe because there were so many items, this large gallery wasn’t something Bi Sa-beol could manage alone, so inevitably, there was more than one manager assigned per piece.

‘Although they kept changing for some reason, but there were managers assigned to me too.’

Thanks to the conversations they shared, he was able to learn a few things about Bi Sa-beol.

‘A man obsessed with collecting.’

Usually, he was a gentleman with a bit of a playful side and normal sensibilities, but when it came to art, he became a madman who would stop at nothing.

‘Harmful.’

Nevertheless, Gio did not harbour any bad feelings towards the person named Bi Sa-beol.

“……”

Gio’s gaze landed on the frame hanging on the tree.

The moment he saw Bi Sa-beol trying to converse again outside, information that only Gio could see popped up on the smooth glass of the frame.

He blinked twice.

Safety ★★★★☆

“……”

Surprisingly, that frame measured the danger level of the creature lurking beyond the portrait.

Judging by the reactions of people on the other side, it seemed that only Gio himself could see that sign.

“Sir? Sir? Do you really have no intention of talking with me?”

“……”

“If you tell me what kind of offering you want, I can catch it alive for you. Sir?”

… So, there was no particular reason why Gio had to leave Bi Sa-beol in that state.

‘But I can already see a future that’s too much to handle just because I started a conversation.’

It was frankly burdensome. Gio was not a vessel big enough to contain a human called Bi Sa-beol.

‘Newly harvested potatoes from Gangwon Province must be handled carefully so as not to damage them ….’

Although his tone was quite polite and his actions were refined, no matter what anyone said, a stranger who camps out in front of someone’s front door for fifteen hours is definitely burdensome.

“……”

He didn’t particularly dislike him because he didn’t seem malicious nor seem like a bad person.

“… I guess I’m just a bit reluctant.”

Just listening one-sidedly was already tiring.

‘I’ll be drained of energy.’

Gio was just—

“……”

—Waiting until he deemed it possible to have a conversation.

‘But I can’t keep doing this forever. When that person runs out of energy, let’s try to interact with others.’

He didn’t want to lose energy for no reason.

‘A scary person.’

Gio nodded at the fact that he could avoid that scary person.

“It’s a really nice place to live.”

Gio, having been already outside the portrait several times, knew. What people could see now was only a portrait of Gio himself.

What mattered was Gio’s own will. When he had the will to interact with the outside, the ‘Gio’ in the painting opened his eyes. This was a fact he discovered after installing a mirror when he was at the abandoned school.

‘So no matter how much I relax inside, it won’t be seen from the outside.’

In this place, Gio’s complete freedom was guaranteed. It didn’t matter if the chairman of a large company waited eagerly for his response outside, he could still enjoy a peaceful rest.

Fortunately, Gio was able to enjoy complete peace after the busy red-haired gentleman, befitting of a conglomerate chairman, disappeared after announcing another challenge.

“……”

In a way, it’s nice to hear him chatter away, so he leaves him be, but ….

“… I can’t leave my only front door unattended like this.”

He had to reclaim ownership.

After a moment of thought, his gaze turned towards the outside of the frame, where no presence was felt.

“……”

Eventually, Gio’s mouth opened.

“Shall I go out?”

His fate of automatically becoming a trespasser just by stepping out of his front door was lamentable, but like all adults in the world, Gio eventually accepted his fate.

As people live, they might end up trespassing.

“……”

And it was mutual anyway since he was also kidnapped.

He wondered if there were people who asked for the portrait’s opinion before purchasing them, but in any case, they hung him in the gallery without Gio’s consent.

Then there would be an infringement of portrait rights.

“… Tada.”

Gio’s ultimate positive mindset has successfully completed rationalization.

¹: 같은 값이면 다홍치마라 하였다 is a Korean proverb which translates to “If it’s the same price, might as well go for the red skirt.” It implies that if there’s no difference in cost, one might as well choose the more attractive or valuable option.

t/n: ‘derailed roller coaster’, I couldn’t help but laugh at that line like seriously, and for those who didn’t realize, between these ‘eleven’ days, Gio already trespassed or interact with the other employees to gather information, but he never talk to Bi Sa-beol between that time at all.

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