"……."

Gio responded quickly after waking up.

"...Resolution?"

Unexpectedly, the portrait easily answered Yoo Seong-Woon’s question.

"If I go outside, it would be like the painting becoming reality."

"Right."

"Then, wouldn't there be a difference in the range of what humans can perceive?"

Having just opened his eyes for the first time in a while, Gio continued without hesitation.

"I've never seen a mirror outside the painting, so I’m not sure, but most of the staff here, despite seeing me and talking to me directly, seemed distant, as if they were facing something unknown. Even after introducing ourselves and exchanging information, the fear ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) only deepened…"

"Are you thinking there was a problem in the perception process?"

"Yes."

That's a good analogy.

‘To think he can express the scale of a soul like this, he would have been a great teacher.’

Yoo Seong-Woon, unaware that Gio was making an honest guess, thought this was simply the most plausible analogy the portrait could offer.

Resolution, huh? That made sense.

‘Now that I think about it, Gio has been introducing himself to everyone he meets, hasn't he?’

Yoo Seong-Woon suddenly had a question and asked.

"Is exchanging names something important to you?"

"Exchanging names increases familiarity. I thought so, too."

"Ah…"

So, it was to build familiarity. Yoo Seong-Woon asked again, somewhat awkwardly.

"Did you introduce yourself on purpose to make people feel closer?"

"That’s also a matter of human courtesy. If you want to know someone, you must first introduce yourself."

"I see."

It seemed like Gio didn’t realize that this approach could actually be more frightening.

‘…To think a soul so vast that it can cause perception issues up close asks for a name. Feeling familiarity from that? That’s really hard to believe.’

For spiritual beings, a true name is always a form of transaction. Unless you're from a rural area or an elder, even those people know the risks of exchanging real names.

‘Besides, Gio, being all black, certainly looks like a god of death, making it even more suspicious.’

Of course, in human interactions, exchanging names is a common practice. It’s a useful skill to extract information from others. Just by sharing your name, you can build a small amount of trust.

In that sense, it made him wonder.

‘…Does Gio really think of himself as human?’

It was something to be cautious about.

‘If this natural respect and consideration for others stems from a misconception that he’s human, I must make sure to keep him thinking that way. Otherwise, who knows what disaster could happen?’

"Mm... Right."

If he thought of himself as human, it made asking questions a bit easier.

"Then, how old are you?"

"I’m 29."

"……"

That was unexpected.

"...29?"

"Yes."

"You're young."

"I hear that I look older than I am, but it's a response that stings."

"Ah, no, that's not what I meant..."

Yoo Seong-Woon himself found it amusing that he’d asked about the age of a portrait. But he didn’t expect that a portrait, which seemed so distant and unreachable, would be under thirty.

‘Maybe I was mistaken about him, too.’

If Gio saw himself as a normal 29-year-old human, that was something he could say. No matter how long this portrait had existed.

Yoo Seong-Woon awkwardly smiled.

"I didn’t expect you to be younger than me."

"May I ask your age, Yoo Seong-Woon?"

"I’m 33."

"I thought you’d be in your 20s."

"That's quite a compliment."

"You look young."

The portrait spoke in its usual blunt tone.

"In that case, it would be fine to speak more casually."

"Ah… is that okay?"

"I don’t recall ever asking you to use honorifics."

"That’s true."

It seemed that Gio didn’t care much about formal speech, even though Yoo Seong-Woon had been using honorifics out of politeness. Perhaps he valued respectful actions more than elegant speech.

‘Well, I guess it’s not like he dislikes me.’

He wouldn’t tell someone to drop the formalities if he disliked them.

"Then I’ll speak more comfortably."

"As you please."

"It feels awkward switching from formal to casual speech."

"You’re actually doing it quite naturally."

"Well, I’m used to informal speech…"

Though he had grown accustomed to hierarchical relationships from his time as a curator and researcher, when he worked as a gardener, he was more of a wanderer.

Though he wasn’t the type to completely disregard manners, deep down, he felt more comfortable with informal speech.

"By the way, who’s been calling you old?"

"It’s something I hear often."

"You don’t look old to me. Are you sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding?"

"I’ve been told that I look like I’m in my 20s, but people don’t believe me."

"Oh, I get it now."

Yoo Seong-Woon understood.

"Your vibe is a bit heavy. You don’t seem like you’re in your 20s."

"That’s something I hear often."

"That’s it, then. I guess it’s because you don’t have the energy of someone in their 20s."

Whether this portrait had once been human and turned into a painting, or simply retained human memories, it seemed that people’s impression of him came from his atmosphere rather than his age.

"And honestly, before calling you old, you’re just handsome."

"Thank you for the compliment."

"With a face like that, the maturity you exude doesn’t matter at all."

His smooth skin, almost like porcelain, had strong and clear features that gave him a strong impression.

His expression, which seemed calm but could also appear angry, matched his blunt demeanor perfectly.

"You must’ve been quite popular."

"I’ve never had a romantic experience."

"……"

Yoo Seong-Woon never expected to hear that from a portrait.

"...None? With that face?"

"I’ve never been confessed to either."

"Did you never confess?"

"I wasn’t interested, so I didn’t."

"Now I understand the situation."

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed helplessly.

It was the same as earlier. The atmosphere was too heavy, so even if someone had feelings, they probably couldn’t confess. Or, they may have assumed that someone with that face already had a lover, so they didn’t try.

‘…I guess he was once human, then became a portrait.’

Considering his words, it seemed like he had some experience with social life.

"Well…"

But still, it wasn’t something he should ask about just yet.

‘I did make him run away last time.’

Yoo Seong-Woon decided to change the subject.

"By the way, you don’t seem to go outside much these days?"

"We’re having a conversation right now."

"Not that, I mean, you’ve been outside before."

Thanks to that, there was still a terrible rumor circulating among the curators. Since Bisa Beul had kept quiet about this, Yoo Seong-Woon couldn’t clarify the rumor.

"You seemed like you were going to leave the gallery."

"If I gave the wrong impression, I’m sorry, but I never intended to leave."

"That’s surprising. Your range of activities seemed to be expanding, and I thought you wanted to go outside."

"I was just curious about how far the place I’m in extends."

"So now that you’ve checked all of the first floor, you don’t need to go outside anymore?"

"Something like that…"

The portrait looked down at Yoo Seong-Woon.

"I’m not fond of active adventures in crowded places, and I’ve been trying to refrain, thinking it might cause trouble for you."

"…I didn’t expect that at all. So, that’s why you haven’t been coming out? That’s an incredibly thoughtful decision."

Yoo Seong-Woon was almost impressed. He hoped other monsters or Ego Weapons would learn this from Gio.

‘I never imagined an otherworldly being would show this kind of consideration. If I report this to the academy, there would be an uproar.’

It was both amazing and strange. While he still didn’t fully understand the identity of the portrait, he was thankful for meeting such a special being as a gardener.

This consideration could only be possible if he thought of himself as human…

"Then, won’t you tell me your story, Yoo Seong-Woon?"

"...My story?"

"It seems like I’ve only talked about myself so far."

"Oh, right."

Yoo Seong-Woon understood.

‘This is probably the 1:1 rule.’

The portrait seemed to like fairness. Since he had asked so many questions about the portrait, it was only natural for this to happen.

"Where should I start..."

Yoo Seong-Woon blinked and chose his topic.

"...I’m a curator. I manage and maintain the gallery of the guild master, Bisa Beul. There are many curators here besides me."

"Does the gallery sell artworks?"

"Sometimes. This gallery is a place where the most precious and dangerous things in the world are kept, so sometimes people try to buy the works here for purposes like extermination or research."

Yoo Seong-Woon would explain the works to such customers.

"Because of that, any work that cannot be explained by any curator is set as an item not for sale. Even though this is a gallery with the most dangerous things, if someone buys it and something happens to them, the responsibility will eventually fall on us."

"Don’t you just ignore it?"

"I’d like to pretend I don’t know, but I can’t. It complicates matters. It can escalate from legal battles to armed conflicts. Even if we have customers sign a waiver, we can’t stop all their complaints."

And if things went wrong, even curators, whose combat skills weren’t great, could face direct retaliation. Some curators had been killed by assassins hired by other companies.

"The guild master here is so strict with his staff that this wouldn’t happen here, but it’s common for curators at other places to face retaliation."

"Doesn’t the company provide protection for them?"

"Why would they? There’s no shortage of people who want to work. It’s cheaper to hire new employees than to protect the existing ones, so they leave it as is."

"That’s cold."

"That’s how the world is."

It might be disillusioning for a monster who liked good things, but in the human world, it wasn’t that unusual.

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

"People are already dying outside the city. There’s no manpower to protect them, and monsters keep coming out... Rural areas, without proper infrastructure, are almost like nature itself."

"……"

"Cities and rural areas have civilization levels that are about a century apart. But, to be fair, some people say the countryside is better because they don’t have to deal with all sorts of troubles or oppression."

The portrait said bluntly.

"I’m tired."

"Have I talked too much?"

"It means I like the inside of the painting."

"I agree with that."

Even if he didn’t know what was going on inside that painting, it would definitely be much calmer than the dirty and petty world they had to live in.

Soon, the portrait asked.

"Then, Yoo Seong-Woon, have you been working as a curator all this time?"

"Ah… well, no. I haven’t been employed for that long."

"May I ask what you did before?"

"……"

Should I really share this?

Yoo Seong-Woon hesitated for a moment but then confessed.

"I used to be a researcher."

"That’s an unexpected answer."

"And before that, I was a gardener. Actually, I still am."

"A gardener who manages gardens full of grass and flowers?"

"No, we manage the roots."

There was a source in this world.

"I don’t know how much you know, but there are dungeons on Earth. They’re lairs of monsters created around various themes..."

"……"

"Even though they’re from different dimensions, sometimes the same type of plants are found in separate dungeons. We call those 'children of the source.'"

In dungeons filled with fire or made of caves, the same types of plants were found.

Despite having no apparent connection, this happened, and some researchers believed it was because these plants came from the source.

"Can you explain more about the source?"

"We don’t know much about it."

But the source was that kind of being. The lowest and most fundamental concept in every dimension.

"If we compare it to trees, the dungeon is like the fruit, and the monsters inside are the seeds. The source is the root."

"……"

"In other words, I suspect that the power of the source creates dungeons..."

"Thank you for the fascinating story."

"I think you're fascinating too."

Yoo Seong-Woon, laughing roughly, continued.

"Gardeners analyze, manage, and share the events that come from the source. When a new monster appears, we’re similar to researchers who analyze its name and power. We’re also like geographical hunters who make new maps by traveling through dungeons."

"That doesn’t seem related, so why are you called a gardener?"

"Well, I guess."

Yoo Seong-Woon blinked his blue eyes. They quickly brightened.

"We’ve seen the source as a garden."

"……"

"...Because, we actually manage a 'garden' as well."

The portrait asked.

"A garden?"

"Yes, a garden."

"Is it different from the source?"

"It can be considered part of the source."

Yoo Seong-Woon answered thoroughly.

"If a person is called the source, then the garden we speak of refers to parts of that person, like their blood vessels, nails, heart, or eyes."

"……"

"It’s vast, and there are many parts. A small number of highly qualified gardeners are responsible for each of these gardens, but it’s a difficult job..."

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed like it was a sigh.

"Many of them die. It’s a job that doesn’t allow much room for leisure."

"Does someone have to do it?"

"If you’re chosen by the source, you must do it. If you neglect it, the difficulty of various dungeons will rapidly increase."

"That’s scary."

"...Even if you say it’s scary, I don’t think you can fully grasp it..."

Feeling like he had heard something absurd, Yoo Seong-Woon scratched his ear and continued.

"I’m still a gardener. Becoming a gardener is something you can’t choose, so even though I’m working as a curator now, I can’t throw away my qualifications as a gardener."

"Is it hard?"

"A bit?"

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged his shoulders.

"But it’s manageable."

When he closed his eyes, he saw the great snowy mountains. The glaciers. Their grandeur was mesmerizing.

"My own garden is quite magnificent."

"……"

The portrait answered soon after.

"I understand."

"Really?"

"I feel the same way."

"I see."

That day’s conversation ended like that.

Though he didn’t know how the portrait felt, for Yoo Seong-Woon, it had been quite an enjoyable time, at least for a gardener.