The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 207

Confirmed: Palette residents have been erased.

Confirmed residents: Aria, Iser

“......”

Would you like to reassign them to the Palette?

[Yes/No]

“Yes.”

Color: ‘Aria’ successfully reassigned.

[Gray]

Color: ‘Iser’ successfully reassigned.

[Sky Blue]

.......

.......

...I like it.

***

The hunters all agreed that this disaster had been especially tricky.

“A living sea... gave me chills, seriously.”

“Even when we froze it, it kept pulling water up from the depths. I got completely drained.”

“Even the mermaids seemed worn out, though less so over time...”

What made it manageable was that an unusually skilled group of hunters had been deployed for this war.

They did everything they could to stop the deep-sea water from drowning the plants they had managed to sprout, and the plants grew steadily, obeying their master’s command.

“Still, it was honestly kind of cool.”

“Not something a human could normally create.”

“That was insane... for real.”

The sea garden crafted by human hands was a sight few would ever see again.

“If the dungeon assault team hadn’t responded as fast as they did, even the suppression team would’ve had a rough time.”

Aria, the humanoid monster who had slowly stolen away Earth’s oceanic power, had shown great agony twice during the standoff.

“The first time was supposedly when Hunter Sergio broke free from his restraints and the shock damaged her, right?”

“The second time was when the assault team destroyed the dungeon’s heart...”

“But wasn’t that also Hunter Sergio?”

“I heard he could see the heart of the dungeon while bound in his dream.”

“To be planning an assault even under those circumstances... he really is something.”

“If it were me, I wouldn’t have even woken up, let alone planned anything.”

“Hey, we wouldn’t have made it that far to begin with. We’d have been dead in one hit.”

In fact, the dungeon-clearing notification only popped up quite some time after Aria’s form dissolved into the sea.

It must have taken a while for the influence she had on Earth’s oceans to fully vanish.

And as always, cleaning up the mess was left to the humans.

“......”

“...What a goddamn mess...”

The hunters called in for post-battle cleanup couldn’t help but groan at the devastated state of the ocean.

“Shit, let’s just get this over with. We need to finish this if we want to go home.”

“Has the Association contacted us yet? With things this bad, I’d expect some protests from other countries.”

“Seeing as nothing’s come through, they must be handling it well enough.”

“Let’s wrap this up while the Association’s still doing a good job covering for us.”

The ocean is so vast that even minor disruptions can ripple across the entire globe.

With glaciers forming like in the polar regions right off Korea’s coast, climate problems were inevitable.

The hunters’ immediate task was to suppress this “climate problem” as quickly as possible.

They worked to melt the enormous glaciers and forcibly restore ocean currents to their original state.

“Hey, but this...”

“Right? It’s kind of a shame.”

“Excuse me, Association staff—can we leave this part as is?”

“It must’ve taken a lot of work to create.”

“Even if it’s a battle scar...”

The hunters felt regret as they looked at the sea garden.

“Isn’t this a pretty historic trace to just clean up and throw away?”

Backed by hunters and citizens alike calling it “mystical” and “a terrifying trace of war,” the Association decided to preserve the bloom of flowers that had formed in the ocean.

It wasn’t just beautiful—it also served as a warning about the risks of oceanic distortion, like a textbook or a canary in a coal mine.

“If something goes wrong in this flower field, it’ll mean we’ve lost control over the sea.”

“The public reaction hasn’t been bad, and it’s fine to leave some traces of war behind. People only really start thinking, ‘We need to be careful,’ when they see visible scars of disaster.”

“The area to manage is going to increase, sure, but that’s what dedicated departments are for...”

The Association was always proactive about things like this.

Though Korea was a very small country, its population was overflowing.

And to manage and control that population, the environment had to be engineered carefully.

This time was no exception.

The Association swiftly created a new department to manage the trace known as the “Sea Garden.”

Employees were assigned to tend to the garden on a regular basis.

“Well, in a way, this is how we show off our national capabilities.”

“If this cleanup goes well, more immigrants might come. It even looks good as a tourist site.”

In a time when you never knew when you’d die, people wanted to belong to a country that could protect them.

More than just a cleanup, the image of a country that could turn the aftermath of war into something profitable gave South Korea a unique advantage.

“There were a fair number of hunters who died...”

“For those with families, offer both our sincerest apologies and our heartfelt thanks. Make the compensation generous enough that no one questions it. That’s how we get our hunters to risk their lives again next time.”

“Make sure the public doesn’t start grumbling either. Aren’t you tired of hearing complaints about regional and urban discrimination? Even if nothing changes in reality, people need to feel that they’re being supported—it makes things easier in the long run.”

“The people must always have the government and the Association to rely on. It’s during times like this, when a huge crisis hits, that we gain the public’s favor—you all know that.”

“We’ve already talked with the guilds. When the time comes, they’ll participate in donations for displaced citizens and national heroes. Especially the top three guilds—they were the first to speak up...”

Whenever a war of this scale breaks out, the government and the Association get swamped.

Given the small size of the nation, they could assess and respond to even the tiniest regions in detail.

But in another sense, there was also someone else who drew a lot of attention.

“Did you hear? Hunter Sergio...”

“They said he was kidnapped by the monsters during the recent war.”

“No, not that—”

It was about the “Black Cloak.”

“There’s talk that he’s a disciple of the Black Cloak.”

“...The Black Cloak is a god? I thought he was a monster?”

Some didn’t believe it, some accepted it immediately.

But thankfully, the Black Cloak’s identity didn’t cause public panic.

“I mean, sure, why not?”

In an age where individualism reigned and citizens were constantly isolated and struggling, they couldn’t help but be affectionate {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} toward any creature that showed them kindness—even if it was something mysterious, even if it wasn’t human.

“Judging by the snacks he hands out, he doesn’t seem like a bad god, right?”

“Even if he’s an evil god, he feeds people and gives tours...”

“How many people survived that goddamn winter thanks to the Black Cloak?”

“God or whatever—I just want to meet him and give him a treat.”

“Some folks even got rich selling that stuff. It’s like the lottery.”

“Doing good increases your chances... A lottery with rigged odds...”

To the citizens of today, the Black Cloak wasn’t a monster that needed to be hunted down.

He had become a gentle, eerie folktale nestled into Korean life.

And since he actually provided real help, no one called for his capture or destruction.

“Why gut the goose that lays golden eggs?”

“Hey, still, it’s a holy being...”

“...Ah, right, right. Just saying.”

Particularly, some eccentric fans eagerly awaiting the Black Cloak’s next work were extremely vocal in his defense.

“I knew it! There’s no way a being capable of crafting such a noble world could be just some monster!”

“I felt divinity in the uniqueness of those frames. I knew it—I just knew it. We can’t sit still now.”

“Shouldn’t we form a group to protect the Black Cloak? Where else in the world does a divine being share their artistic realm like this? We have to act before someone tries to exploit it.”

“He’s a mystery who cherishes kind people—of course we need to prepare before some malicious parasites latch on. He’s unexpectedly pure-hearted, too...”

These fans were already too deep in their delusion.

No amount of criticism could shake them now.

They were completely captivated by the thrilling relationship they imagined they had with this gentle yet ominous folktale.

And most of all, the idea that “the Black Cloak is kind to good people” only heightened their pride.

They believed they’d been acknowledged by him.

Some even felt a sense of duty.

Especially those who had been helped directly.

“If the Black Cloak hadn’t saved me that day, I would’ve died. Just the thought of someone using him for evil... I can’t bear it.”

“We understand how you feel. That’s why we have to raise our voices.”

Although these movements existed, they were small.

A casual club at best—perhaps a salon.

Most people didn’t think much of it.

In an era where fan groups sprang up for any cute or helpful monster, it was only natural that one would form around someone like the Black Cloak.

Just as a government forms when a country does.

“Well, they’re all peaceful types anyway.”

“Probably because the Black Cloak hates evil people.”

“They say they even vet their own members thoroughly.”

“They gather locally and do good deeds...”

“I heard some art fans even hold charity events. Some supposedly volunteer in person.”

“Look at the rich throwing money around. That’s rare. Those people usually treat lower-ranked citizens like insects, and now they’re stepping forward themselves.”

Some joined for fun.

Others earnestly hoped to be invited into his world.

And some followed with unwavering faith.

“A truly positive influence. If it’s like this... do we really have to worry?”

As people came to terms with the Black Cloak’s new identity, attention shifted to Hunter Sergio.

“So he’s been a disciple of the Black Cloak all along. I wonder if that has anything to do with him being raised by the collector.”

“They say the humanoid monsters kidnapped disciples of the Black Cloak during the war—but why? Apparently they made lots of remarks aimed at keeping the Black Cloak in check.”

“One hunter in the assault team said they were obsessed with Hunter Sergio. Get this—he claimed the dungeon’s heart looked exactly like Sergio...”

“What? Why would they do that?”

There were a few theories.

“I heard the ‘Temple of the Deep’ showed some backstory about the mermaids and their teacher. Supposedly, the mermaids became monsters after losing their teacher to humans. And they say Sergio looks a lot like that teacher.”

“So they found a human who resembled their old master and tried to turn him into the same being?”

“I heard Sergio looked heartbroken after breaking free from his restraints. Makes sense—the mermaids tried to project their dead teacher onto him.”

“If that’s true, isn’t it super creepy? Trying to force a dead person’s identity onto a living human... That’s exactly the kind of twisted thing a monster would do.”

Others argued differently.

“Maybe he really was a similar existence. There’s still so much we don’t know about mysteries between dimensions. Reincarnation, for example—maybe Sergio is one of those.”

“They say the teacher’s name in the ‘Temple of the Deep’ was Batlan Giovanni. We don’t know if he went by Gio, but even the names are close. Seems like fate to me.”

“They were monsters who crossed dimensions committing heinous acts. Their hatred for humans must’ve run deep. If there’d been no connection at all, would they have shown such longing?”

“Even if they were trying to revive their teacher through his body, it still means they didn’t direct that hatred at him. There must’ve been some link.”

And yet others had this take:

“Maybe they just coveted a great vessel.”

“Apparently they treated that priest-to-be, Cha I-Sol, quite respectfully too. So it’s not like Sergio was the only one who dodged their usual hate.”

“Sure, maybe the resemblance to their teacher played a role, but humanoid monsters are smart.”

“They’re the type that will work with humans if it suits their goals. Trying to claim Sergio, the Black Cloak’s top disciple, could’ve been part of a bigger plan.”

“They also belittled him, saying, ‘He’s just an ordinary human.’ So clearly, they still held some basic resentment toward humans. To them, he was just a useful tool.”

“At most, they saw him as a favored subordinate. Maybe they even tried to turn him into one of their own... But I don’t think there was any real emotion behind it.”

“Right. Sergio nearly came back as a living corpse the last time he visited the ‘Temple of the Deep.’ If they truly cherished him, they wouldn’t have done that.”

There were plenty of opinions, but three major theories emerged.

What was certain was that the Black Cloak was divine—and his disciples were Hunter Sergio and trainee priest Cha I-Sol.

“But it does feel a little... off.”

“Huh? What do you mean? Everything seems settled...”

“Sure, I know the cleanup’s going well, but still... why did this happen in the first place?”

“Dungeons and monsters don’t need reasons to cause disasters.”

“It’s just that the fact that these were intelligent humanoid monsters—it sticks with me.”

Some were worried about the actions of the mermaids.

“They specifically singled out the Black Cloak.”

In a world with as many gods and religions as there were stars, it wasn’t that they were hostile to all divinities—just the Black Cloak, who had only recently started appearing. That fact unsettled people.

“Well... maybe that just proves how kind the Black Cloak has been to humans. Maybe he got in their way because he protected us too much.”

“Yeah, maybe so.”

“I hope he helps again if another enemy appears. I heard he helped the assault team move after their submarine was destroyed...”

“Was that real? I thought it was just a rumor.”

“Considering how he always hands out snacks, it might be true.”

And then, Hunter Sergio vanished.

“Why?”

“Isn’t he going to appear on TV?”

“Wasn’t this basically his debut...?”

His fan club couldn’t hide their tears.

With all he’d done, they figured he’d show his face at least once.

But all they got from the collector was, “Due to the recent kidnapping incident, Hunter Sergio has been severely injured and needs rest.”

“Injured? What is he, fruit? A vegetable?”

“I heard they cling to him like a precious artwork...”

“He really lives up to his name.”

The only one taking all the heat was Bisa Beul—rumored to be Sergio’s ‘father.’

***

Argio clicked his tongue.

“You’d think he’d be mad.”

“Isn’t it fun, though? This situation?”

“Oh, it is fun.”

“Then why not play along a little?”

“Of course. If that’s what you want, Father.”

“How can the world have such a sweet sound?”

Bisa Beul beamed.

“Say it again.”

“Father?”

“Ah, thrilling.”

“What a darling family.”

“Want some allowance?”

Forget the cleanup—Bisa Beul was fully basking in the moment.

A staffer who came in to submit paperwork turned around and left without a word.

He truly was a man living at 200%.

Updated from fr𝒆ewebnov𝒆l.(c)om