What Gio had done was simple.
“I invited them onto my palette.”
“I believe I asked you to explain that in a more detailed, ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ fair, and specific manner.”
“......”
“And don’t make that face like you have no idea how else to explain it.”
“I didn’t make such a face.”
“It’s obvious, so don’t deny it.”
“I’m innocent.”
Only after quite so ti had passed was Gio able to explain what he had done. By then, he had already taken on the form of the platinum-haired priest.
“...To paint a picture, one needs paint, right?”
“Hard to explain, so you've beco Giovanni, huh. Yeah, sure. But?”
“In other words, a painting is made from paint.”
“Right?”
“And the sa goes for now. The version of inside the fra is composed of paint, or at least can be defined as sothing conceptually equivalent. That’s only natural, I think.”
It was the sa logic.
“The rmaids, and the place that was their root—the ‘Breathing Sea’... or the ‘Nation of the Deep Sea’—they were linked to my fra. In other words, they could be considered a single fra, a single painting.”
Gio spoke calmly.
“Then, wouldn’t our rmaid friends be paint as well?”
“...Is that how it works? Why? That’s way too sudden.”
“But it’s only natural that a painting is essentially a combination of paint.”
“......”
Joo-Hyun was at a complete loss for words.
She couldn't even muster a simple “...I see!” and looked baffled. But Yoo Seong-Woon, who had grown accustod to the strange incidents and phenona of primal beings, understood quickly.
“I get the gist.”
After all, Gio himself was a “portrait.”
“But in that case, all the beings painted in your fra... they beco, what... residents of the palette? If that’s the case, both I and Miss Joo-Hyun have been there, haven’t we? Even Cha I-Sol.”
“You are not palette residents.”
“So there’s a separate criterion?”
“The root must be connected.”
“The root, huh...”
He understood—he was a gardener. Roots played a crucial role in shaping any being. If it was the root of the soul, the most essential concept, then that said it all.
“So simply using the sa flowerpot doesn’t cut it?”
“Correct. I repeat, they must be ‘linked.’ In terms of plants, it would be more like not just sharing a pot, but the roots and stems physically joining together.”
“In human terms, not just lovers, but conjoined twins?”
“Closer to organs within a single body, I’d say. Like how nutrients chewed and swallowed by the mouth are transford into fat stored in the body forever.”
“So the roots have to beco truly the sa.”
It wasn’t just about “sharing” — they had to beco “one.”
“So what can you do with that? What changes?”
“I can call them back.”
“Call what? They’re already dead, weren’t they?”
“Palette residents are paint, aren’t they?”
“...Ah.”
Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.
“Yeah, that’s not really a matter of life or death.”
Even Gio himself had died, but had been taxidermied at his most perfect mont.
The precedent was right in front of them—there was no reason others couldn’t do the sa, as long as Gio helped.
“So right now, those rmaids... beca paint?”
“More precisely, they beca color.”
“Color?”
“Yes.”
chanically, the portrait stated the truth.
“Aria beca gray, and Iser beca sky blue.”
“......”
“You’ll be able to find them within my shadows and my works.”
“...Well, that’s...”
Yoo Seong-Woon hesitated, then said,
“...That’s beautiful.”
And he ant it.
“So it has nothing to do with death.”
“Just as with , it’s irrelevant for them as well.”
“What do you an by ‘color’?”
“Exactly what it sounds like.”
“Can you talk with them? Communicate? Are they capable of interaction?”
“If one intends it, yes.”
“And their will remains?”
“If you desire it.”
“They are already dead, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they’ve beco sothing far removed from life.”
“...Ha, that’s genuinely romantic...!”
He couldn’t help but laugh.
“I’d really like to see them. Where can I go to view them? If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to see them with my own eyes. If I’m not being rude, would you show the way?”
“You may visit the ‘Temple of the Deep Sea’ or the ‘City of Void.’ You’ll also be able to see them easily at my hut.”
“Do I need to find the fra?”
“Either way is fine. In the end, color is visible everywhere.”
“That really is... sothing.”
At their exchange, Joo-Hyun wore a slightly bitter expression.
“...I’m the only one not understanding this, right?”
“There’s a world even Miss Joo-Hyun can’t understand.”
“Since it’s a world that includes Mister Gio, shouldn’t I try to understand it too? But there’s this strange feeling of rejection I just can’t shake. Am I narrow-minded... too rigid...”
“Miss Joo-Hyun is a sincere person.”
It was only natural to feel rejection.
“You’re just looking in a different direction.”
“...I’ll try to get used to it, step by step.”
Finally, Joo-Hyun let out a deep sigh, breaking her usual courteous smile. With the one she served being a primordial mystery, it was ti she began growing in various ways as well.
But...
She looked at the smiling Yoo Seong-Woon.
“......”
“Hmm? What?”
“Nothing.”
She smiled back at him.
“Just thinking you’re probably going to have a rough ti.”
“That’s always the case with .”
And yet Yoo Seong-Woon still hadn’t defined Gio.
***
“......”
Yoo Seong-Woon was now in the “City of Void.”
“...The waterbirds are here too.”
“One of the hos I built, so naturally.”
“More residents since last ti too.”
He looked around. There were a few silhouettes stained in blotched black, like they’d been splattered with ink. Probably “evil humans” who’d loitered near the City of Void and gotten caught.
‘Still, not as many as I’d expected.’
In this age overflowing with wickedness, he’d imagined the place would be packed. Then again, maybe this wasn’t the only space—there could be more he wasn’t seeing.
‘It is a road that seems to have no end.’
The City of Void resembled a highway nestled between towering buildings on both sides. You could slip through the alleys or continue beyond that seemingly endless road.
‘What you see through a fra is always just fragnted shards...’
Waterbirds perched on Yoo Seong-Woon’s head and shoulders.
“Whoa, what’s going on? Why are they doing this?”
“I believe they’re the birds that t you at the hut last ti.”
“Ah... ah, right. Back then.”
It had been a while—he was surprised they rembered.
Before entering the hut, I rember seeing them perched in a tree.
These must be those sa birds.
“......”
He stretched out a hand, and they hopped onto it.
“...Gray, huh?”
“This place is gray, so naturally.”
“True.”
Water, after all, is transparent—of course it would absorb the surrounding color.
This too, these little ones too... they're all paintings.
The waterbird on his hand pecked and tilted its head, as if to say, “Why are you here?”
Most humans who co here are evil, I suppose. Should I be thankful they’re not treating like one...?
Then he caught sight of a black silhouette being devoured by the waterbirds.
“Oh.”
So that’s how they deal with them.
“Your kids must be bursting.”
“Not necessarily. It’s more play than feeding...”
“When you call that play, it’s a bit creepy for us humans.”
“You joke a lot.”
“You need to learn to take human words more literally.”
“Are you enjoying the view?”
“...I’m definitely less nervous than before.”
That didn’t an he was comfortable.
I’m not even soone they target with hostility, and still I feel like this.
He’d been here before, and yet it still felt eerie.
Just breathing in and out within this space felt like it could erase the existence of “.” Like his lungs were filling with plaster dust.
I can bear it only because Gio’s grace allows it.
There was a reason even skilled hunters couldn’t cope with the City of Void. Once caught by the Black Cloak’s work, there was no escape unless he granted rcy himself.
“...Hmm.”
Yoo Seong-Woon tilted his head.
“...Where are the rmaids?”
“It’s hard to call them that now.”
“Then... are they no longer even nad?”
“No. Death doesn’t erase a na.”
“Should I call that rciful... or horrifying...”
And then a deep gray caught his eye.
“......”
Ah.
“...An eye...”
“Yes, it’s an eye.”
“...Is it looking at ?”
“It is.”
It was an eye made of color.
One of the rmaid’s eyes.
A strange silver, like watery scales—more like pearl.
A shimring pupil ringed with an aurora-like iris. Not one. Not even a few. Dozens, hundreds.
Then ca a hand. Made of color, subrged in color. An unclear shape squird within its defined hue. Not one or two—thousands.
He couldn’t fully grasp it.
Is it alive?
Or was it taxidermied?
It’s far too vivid to be a re specin...
But he felt no life.
It was like a thin oil film atop an oil painting. Even without wind, it swayed as if painted by a brush—resembling the tail of a rmaid in life.
Disgusting?
No. It was beautiful.
Am I supposed to say it’s grotesque? Even if they were evil, even if they were monsters, isn’t mocking the dead still wrong?
It was no different from a portrait.
Literally, it was “color.” Gray. Just as daylight and evening seas differ, its shadows were distinct. A rmaid born from the sea—why did she beco gray?
“......”
It was the gray sea.
...So color had nothing to do with it.
It flowed softly, like a spring ocean.
“...There doesn’t seem to be any will left. Is that right?”
“No, not quite.”
“Then why doesn’t it show hostility to ?”
“Because it’s only color. Paint can’t express or possess will.”
“...I see.”
Yoo Seong-Woon looked up.
“...I understand now.”
Twilight flowed across the sky—utterly unfitting for a place nad “Void.”
So this is the hell the rmaids chose.
They had chosen to remain near Gio as tools.
Once, the rmaids had two paths.
To beco evil gods and stay by Gio’s side, even if unforgiven for eternity—or to remain in this form as tools, waiting for a day of forgiveness.
They had chosen the latter.
“I was going to ask if you were going to build hell now that you’ve made a heaven.”
“I build neither heaven nor hell.”
“I know. You just wanted to make a ho for the things you liked.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
“...Yeah...”
But if this isn’t hell, what is it?
“...I keep saying this, but it’s beautiful.”
If Yoo Seong-Woon ever died, he wanted to go to a hell like this.
A fairy-tale-like, grotesque hell.
“......”
...Will the day ever co when I can see you as human?
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