Regrettably, ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Jeong Hae-Woon didn’t deny it.
“So, what if I did?”
To that, Dan Haera smiled.
“That’s sad.”
“Are you even feeling real sadness?”
“I can sense your hostility too.”
“Don’t worry—it’s not for you, it’s for us.”
“This is why recovering mories is more curse than blessing.”
“But isn’t it kind of fortunate? The system still exists, after all. It’s keeping people from total confusion.”
“Ah, I see.”
Dan Haera understood the situation.
“So even the system can’t be trusted anymore?”
The price Jeong Hae-Woon had once offered had been returned to him. That should have ant the system had experienced a clear malfunction. And yet, it showed no signs of collapse. In other words, Zeorge had tampered with it.
And that Zeorge was now planning to turn humanity into clowns. In other words, he had beco humanity’s enemy, which ant the system he had touched could no longer be trusted.
Dan Haera thought that the garden—so similar to a person—had been prepared with uncanny precision.
“So they really do intend to sever people from the system.”
“They should’ve done it from the start. Should’ve smashed their heads in long ago.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t rember anything about ‘Teacher’ yet, so I can’t empathize. I’m still against it. People still need the system.”
“How much do you plan to regret later?”
“You know it too—that’s for later. That decision was made long ago.”
They had been dreaming for hundreds of years of a future far ahead. All of the Symbols of Eternity had. They’d decided to commit every sin they could now, to bring that comfortable future a little closer.
At that, Jeong Hae-Woon fell silent for a while.
“...I don’t even know what to say.”
“Oh my, that’s rather rare for you, isn’t it?”
“How did we end up like this?”
“I didn’t think we’d changed all that much... But I guess you disagree.”
“Just rember this: you’re really going to regret this.”
“You’re not one to bluff, so I guess I will.”
“Dan Haera, you...”
He trailed off briefly, then smiled faintly.
“If this ends with being demoted to a grade-5 citizen, I’ll accept it.”
“I doubt you’ll fall that far. We’re still Symbols of Eternity, after all.”
“Co on, seriously? This whole ranking and discrimination thing—it’s a joke. Is this really the world we wanted to rebuild? Hell no.”
“It’s just a transitional step toward that goal. You agreed to that.”
“I’m not a Symbol of Eternity anymore.”
“......”
For the first ti, Dan Haera showed a real reaction. The ever-present chanical smile vanished from her face, replaced with a chill, stunned gaze directed at Jeong Hae-Woon. She blinked slowly, then said:
“...I didn’t even notice.”
“Think about why. If it were truly your power, could you really not tell until things got this bad? Do you really think you wouldn’t have known I’d been released from the Promise?”
“So you’re saying this power isn’t mine?”
“We were never real awakeners.”
Jeong Hae-Woon’s smile twisted.
“We tore it from our poor teacher and used it.”
“......”
“What does it even an to be an S-rank hunter? Do you know?”
There had always been debate among people about what qualified soone as S-rank. Even the fad Association Research Lab had never figured it out. But now, Jeong Hae-Woon knew.
Because Zeorge had told him.
“Every bastard who leeched off soone else’s spine ended up S-rank.”
The Symbols of Eternity had taken their power from their teacher. Bisa Beul had gotten his from the bondragon that touched the Origin. All the world’s S-ranks had been born that way—by ripping sothing from the most noble, most powerful, most beautiful beings.
“So go ahead and kill , if you want.”
“...I still need you, Hae-Woon.”
“How am I supposed to live like this for hundreds or thousands of years? I’m already sick of it after barely thirty.”
“People still need us.”
“Let’s not live like this, Dan Haera.”
Eventually, the smile faded from Jeong Hae-Woon’s face, leaving only a warped, on-the-verge-of-tears expression behind.
“......”
He looked like he was about to say more, but instead, bit down hard on his lip—and vanished.
Dan Haera stood alone in the Association’s executive office, reflecting on the space he had left behind. It wasn’t until much later that staff, sensing sothing was wrong, rushed in to check on her. But their voices barely registered.
Only after a long silence did Dan Haera mutter:
“...What is this feeling?”
She was starting to want to erase her mories. But that wasn’t an option. It was a pity. Even though there was nothing she wanted to gain from the Promise right now, she still had to endure this unpleasant sensation.
In the end, Dan Haera had to admit to herself: she had been using the Promise as an excuse to run away.
***
“What are you drawing now?”
Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Gio’s canvas and asked.
“It seems to be taking longer than usual to finish.”
“It’s taking ti because I’m trying to shape a subconscious I don’t fully understand myself. Unlike drawing sothing purely imagined, this is a bit trickier.”
“The subconscious, huh...”
He imdiately understood what the portrait ant. Just hearing the title “Garden of Pleasure” made it obvious. He was painting Zeorge.
Having once received the gift called Yoo Seong-Woon, he couldn’t not know. Gio, as always, painted images that clearly conveyed who they were about—even when they weren’t portraits.
“Co to think of it, didn’t you say you once painted a sea nad after your rmaids?”
“Yes, I did. It was a sea painted using handmade paints I created with our rmaids—Aria and Iser...”
A rmaid’s tail swayed within the shadows beneath the canvas. As if pleased to hear her na spoken again after so long. But Yoo Seong-Woon felt a twinge of unease.
It must have just been his imagination. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen sothing like this before—back when Gio was handling seafood. Even after being killed, the creatures still twitched as if alive.
‘I know it’s a crude comparison, but that mory surfaced on its own.’
Maybe it was because they were beings that were alive and yet not. These rmaids were taxidermied alongside Gio. They moved and responded as if alive, but ultimately, weren’t they just rmaids trapped in hell?
As Yoo Seong-Woon stood there with a strained smile, Gio looked up at him.
“Is sothing troubling you?”
“Hmm, no. I was just thinking about your idea of the afterlife.”
“Calling it an afterlife makes it sound grand.”
“Well... I don’t know how grand it really is.”
In any case, it was a world where dead souls gathered. People called that the afterlife. It wasn’t about grandeur—it was just a plain fact.
‘He’s still as strict as ever about avoiding any expression that makes him seem non-human.’
Thankfully, the Origin was still the sa as always.
“Anyway, what exactly is this painting? I an, I know you’re drawing Zeorge, but... this doesn’t look like your usual landscape.”
Flowers, jewels, butterflies. A chaotic collection of what humans tend to find beautiful. Sotis it looked like a library. Sotis a person. Sotis a beast or a giant castle.
Compared to the landscapes Gio usually painted, it was an unusual piece.
“This version of ‘Gio’ must be built from a different essence.”
“That’s probably why it’s so hard to capture.”
“I can’t even tell what I’m perceiving.”
“In the end, it’s still Mr. Zeorge.”
“Well, yeah, I guess.”
But how was he supposed to report this?
Even though the Collector had shifted into Second Code mode, the core frawork of the organization remained intact. The workload had simply lessened. Yoo Seong-Woon, still a curator, had duties—including reporting on Gio’s portrait.
He cleared his throat.
“...So, is this going to beco a dungeon we humans have to enter?”
The portrait only manifested in specific cases. First, when it sought out Gio. Second, when it prepared a dungeon humans could enter—one connected to Gio.
“Looks like a hell of a place to go into.”
“However, since Guildmaster Bisa Beul is taking an active stance, I believe it won’t be too difficult.”
“Our Guildmaster is quite the unique person...”
“I can’t promise there won’t be sacrifices. That’s up to Mr. Zeorge’s discretion. I’m rely making a request.”
“Opening such a cryptic path, no less.”
“I didn’t expect Mr. Zeorge to despise Earth’s current state this deeply. I apologize for that.”
“Not sure you need to apologize for that personally... but I guess this counts as an apology.”
Anyway, this was definitely one of Gio’s portraits. Technically speaking, it was the portrait that had summoned Zeorge and triggered this incident. But Yoo Seong-Woon didn’t bla Gio for it.
‘Looking at the situation, it was bound to happen eventually.’
A mystery who had been forcibly linked to the Origin, but never gave up his human identity. It was inevitable he would one day seek out Gio—the eye of the Origin. And Gio, for his part, hadn’t chosen to receive him.
So really, this whole incident stemd from Zeorge choosing Gio. The two might be indistinguishable as mysteries, but for now, Yoo Seong-Woon decided to bla Zeorge.
‘Anyway, it’s not my artwork’s fault.’
A thought truly worthy of a model curator.
‘And it’s not like I don’t understand where Zeorge is coming from.’
It wasn’t so tantrum from a spoiled child—it was a rational, calculated act.
‘If a few people go missing or die in the process, well...’
There were about 500 casualties, both guilty and innocent. But for divine mischief, that was pretty mild. As both curator and gardener, Yoo Seong-Woon could understand both the side that needed the system and the side that sought to destroy it.
‘But since our Guildmaster is outwardly siding with humanity...’
Yoo Seong-Woon had no choice but to follow that order. Besides, even Gio didn’t want innocent people to suffer, did he?
As he stared silently at the painting for a long ti, Yoo Seong-Woon finally spoke.
“...Hmm, is Mr. Zeorge just really twisted on the inside?”
“I suppose the painting does feel convoluted.”
“It’s almost... surrealist, I’d say.”
But it also felt like a landscape, or a portrait. Who knew what would happen once soone actually entered it? So people might even lose their minds just by looking at it.
‘...Should I ask Gio to quarantine this once everything’s over?’
That was one of the Collector’s key functions—separating dangerous artworks from the world. From what Yoo Seong-Woon could see, Gio’s current work more than qualified.
‘If this one gets loose like the others, it could be a problem...’
In the end, it was up to the portrait to decide. But it wouldn’t hurt to bring it up. With that in mind, Yoo Seong-Woon glanced at Dana, lying quietly at his father’s feet.
She blinked and looked up at him.
“...? Huh?”
Wait—hold on.
“...Um? Uh? What the...”
“What’s wrong?”
“Dana isn’t hissing at anymore. Even though I’m this close.”
“Perhaps Dana has grown used to you, Mr. Yoo?”
“You really think that’s all it is?”
“There’s nothing for you to worry about, Mr. Yoo.”
“I’m kind of terrified right now, Gio.”
What was going to happen in the future, or in the next life, to justify this? Yoo Seong-Woon let out a long sigh, knowing it was already too late to back out. He looked down at Dana again.
Her jewel-like eyes sparkled as she stared back at him.
“......”
Then, out of nowhere, Yoo Seong-Woon felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
“...This is a bit late to say, but Dana really does look a lot like Mr. Zeorge.”
“She’s my child, after all.”
“Dana was a monster from the Gem’s Waterway, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“So then, could it be...”
Yoo Seong-Woon looked at Gio’s unfinished painting. The situation was starting to feel eerily familiar—but in the end, he asked a aningless question.
“...There’s no connection between Dana and Mr. Zeorge, right?”
“Is that what you’d prefer?”
“Would it change anything?”
“That too is up to Mr. Zeorge.”
“This is driving crazy.”
He let out a hollow laugh.
“Feels like I’ve got one of those teachers who cram the syllabus the day before finals.”
“I would say that’s not too far off.”
“Well, then... I just hope I don’t fail.”
***
A few days later, the “Garden of Pleasure” opened.
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