Chapter 296

The portrait asked Yoo Sung-woon, who was just quietly looking at the canvas.

"What is in this place?"

"...There’s nothing. Just glaciers and snow."

"So there are glaciers and snow. What do they look like? If it’s cold, how cold is it?"

"Well, the garden keeps changing its shape..."

Yoo Sung-woon stared at the snowfield in the canvas.

"I might have seen this exact view somewhere before."

Just looking at it quietly made his stomach churn.

It was his garden. His snowfield. A freezing world where snow fell both downwards and upwards, making it impossible to distinguish between heaven and earth. A place where, when it was quiet—or sometimes even when it wasn’t—he could hear his beating heart if he closed his eyes...

His fingertips tingled. His heart pounded. A heat and restlessness that started from the tips of his limbs and rushed to fill his eyes. A bizarre sense of longing, as if he had missed out on something.

"...It’s incredibly realistic."

"I’m flattered you’d say that about this lump of paint."

"It’s certainly far from the actual scenery. This isn’t a photograph, after all."

"You’re right, Yoo Sung-woon."

"But why do you think paintings exist?"

"Unlike photographs, which only capture objective facts, paintings can leave behind sentiments."

"Yeah, sentiments. Emotions. Feelings. Things like that."

That was exactly the difference between a photograph and a painting. A painting contains time and spirit, leaving room for interpretation. That story is what makes all art and masterpieces in the world precious.

"Are you feeling the same emotions that I’m feeling?"

"Well, I wonder."

"How can you paint the world I felt and saw like that?"

"I wonder about that too."

"You’re too vague."

That was indeed the charm of friends who were Mysteries.

"...It’s definitely hard to call it a realistic painting..."

The rough strokes unique to oil paintings remained. The thickly applied paint hardened quickly, protruding outward. There was no precise depiction. It was just a scene created by bluntly pressing down with a knife without making any corrections.

It was the exact perspective Yoo Sung-woon had when he looked at his snowfield one day.

"...Maybe it’s because you’re out of touch with reality."

"Are you out of touch?"

"That’s because you feed me too many good things."

"You should put on some weight, but I feel bad because you’re always so thin."

"I tell you this every time, Ji-oh, but I’m not on the thin side..."

Even as he said that, his gaze was fixed on the snowfield.

’How is this possible?’

He couldn’t help but wonder, even knowing it was a meaningless question. He was marveling at it. To find a desolate snowfield in a flimsy piece of work created by a child of a person resembling a human. Did that really make any sense?

His garden was being painted. It was right there. On a canvas that he could embrace if he just reached out...

"You paint it very softly."

The portrait didn’t let his casually tossed words slide and responded.

"Isn’t snow soft?"

"Rather than that, wouldn’t the first impression be that it crunches... or that it’s cold?"

"Snow untouched by human hands or feet is cozy."

"It wouldn’t be warm, though."

"If it’s just the snow itself, with nothing touching it, then yes."

"Right, my snowfield is like that."

People couldn’t come and go.

’Practically speaking, I’m not a human in there either.’

He was merely a ’Gardener.’ Any action that harmed the scenery of the garden was strictly forbidden. Yoo Sung-woon could not leave any trace within it. Neither footprints stepping on the snow as a human, nor his flimsy warmth.

In the snowfield where the sky and the ground were indistinguishable, Yoo Sung-woon couldn’t even melt the snow. Unless the garden requested or permitted it, that is.

"..."

A strange emotion welled up.

"...This is the first time I’ve shared this view with someone else."

"Don’t you share it with the other Gardeners?"

"It’s impossible to drag a garden out into a place where humans can see it."

"Hmm..."

Tilting his head, Ji-oh asked.

"Can’t they see it through your eyes? Can’t that be called ’a place where humans can see’?"

"You’re probably the only one who can see the garden reflected in my eyes when looking into them, Ji-oh. It’d be troublesome if you misunderstood."

Well, he understood why he would think that. Yoo Sung-woon laughed awkwardly inside.

’I thought he had gotten used to imitating humans, but was that judgment also made by only looking at fragments of Ji-oh? There are still some lacking parts internally...’

But he wasn’t very bewildered. This was a point where the massive Mystery often got confused. It couldn’t fathom that a mundane task it could perform naturally would be a miracle to humans.

It could also be seen as an error of generalization that a Mystery often committed. Assuming that because they could do it, others could too. This perspective sometimes gave humans a considerable sense of alienation along with fear.

’Still, our portrait is at least good at keeping up appearances.’

With a meaningless sense of pride, Yoo Sung-woon smiled gently. It was a Curator’s trait to feel good whenever he felt the specialness of his work. He continued his explanation.

"No matter how beautiful their garden is, a Gardener can never show it to others."

"I heard there are skills that can extract memories into pictures or photos."

"Not only is the garden immune to such skills, but extracting it like that wouldn’t fully convey the emotions I felt anyway. Just like how you can’t entirely bring back the place, the time, the emotion, and the perspective from when you saw a famous tourist attraction..."

"That’s a shame."

The portrait, having painted even the flawless contrast of the enchanting snowy field, asked.

"Shall I give it to you as a gift?"

"A gift like this is actually meaningless to me. The garden and I share the same body, after all."

"Should we exhibit it, then?"

"Where would you exhibit it?"

"Aren’t you tired?"

"...Ah, well..."

When he lifted his head and met its gaze, he caught a glimpse of the benevolence harbored in those deep black eyes. A terrible and massive benevolence whose depth couldn’t be fathomed...

"I just..."

This being’s benevolence could manifest in any form.

It could wipe away a terrifying tsunami covering a vast land with a single hand, or cure a sick person suffering from a dreadful disease with a single glance. Therefore, it could also give a ’friend’ a ’gift’.

The Curator realized what his portrait was saying.

"..."

He knew what the benevolent Source had shown this exhausted Gardener.

"...I’m fine for now."

As expected, a Mystery was a Mystery.

Wasn’t it too heavy a question to just toss out like a riddle to pass the time and demand an immediate answer for?

"If a work like this is put on exhibition, people will be shocked out of their minds."

"They won’t be."

"Wouldn’t the world become a bit more chaotic if that happened?"

"That won’t happen either."

"Please understand, it’s because I’m a weak human with only this much capacity. Your work is just too realistic and beautiful for that. It would be fatal for people with weak hearts."

"I’m flattered."

"When are you going to admit that it’s not an overstatement?"

Probably around the time the Earth flips upside down?

"...I, well... it might be presumptuous of me to say, but I think things are fine as they are right now..."

Wasn’t that how creatures called humans were? They seek stability. They are afraid of even changing themselves, so how could they accept the world changing? That was far too terrifying a thing for a mere human.

"Ji-oh."

"Yes."

"Ji-oh’s portrait."

"Yes, I’m listening."

"How on earth do you want to shape the Earth?"

"I cannot shape it."

"Then what is it that you want to do?"

"I want to do what I want to do."

"And what is that?"

"As you know, Yoo Sung-woon..."

Ji-oh dipped his knife into a silver tin that smelled strongly of oil.

"Having a meal, taking a nap, playing with friends, and then waking up late the next afternoon."

It was a truly peaceful story.

"Would you please not misunderstand? I am simply doing what I want to do. And I just know that the results won’t harm my friends, acquaintances, or good and kind people..."

It sounded somewhat irresponsible, yet also profoundly distant.

"When there’s no reason not to, why should I hesitate?"

"People are afraid of change."

"It is difficult for me to relate to that part."

"It’s understandable, since you’re a unique case in many ways."

Even the ’Ji-oh’s who were human had shown ways of thinking that far surpassed those limits. Giovanni, who considered sacrificing his own flesh easier than breathing. Arzio, who let the world know of his anger even if it meant overturning dimensions.

And Seo Ji-oh, the art teacher.

"Teacher..."

"Did you call for me?"

"...Teacher?"

"Yes, did you call?"

"..."

Yoo Sung-woon looked at the portrait.

The portrait responded even to the call of Yoo Sung-woon, who was neither a student nor a disciple. Its low, soft reply didn’t seem human.

And every time this happened, he felt a little scared.

’It’s like an intricately crafted doll that reacts according to a set value.’

Of course, that was what a Mystery was.

’There’s nothing to be scared of, but I wonder if this is also because I’m just a trivial human.’

He couldn’t just acknowledge, accept, and agree like they did. Every time those profound rules caught his eye, a chill ran down his spine and cold sweat broke out. His eyes widened and his pupils shrank. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

So, no matter how much he thought about it, Joo-hyun was destined to no longer be human. One who doesn’t react to things humans are naturally designed to react to. And someone chosen by a god, wasn’t she?

"...Hmm..."

His idle thoughts seemed to have dragged on a bit too long.

"...What did you do?"

"Is that a question for this teacher?"

"Yeah, Teacher. I have no idea what you did."

"I don’t think there’s anything I did that could be called a ’what’."

"But there are precedents, aren’t there?"

Both Giovanni and Arzio had forged those insane achievements. With them as wedges, dimensions were destroyed and countless lives and deaths revealed themselves. And the portrait was trying to mold the Earth once again using them.

’He says he isn’t...’

He says he didn’t intend it.

’Even so, if he acts like that despite already knowing the outcome, how is that any different from intending it?’

Yoo Sung-woon couldn’t figure out the difference.

"What on earth did you do?"

"Please explain a little more in detail."

"What did you do to become the first one?"

Why was ’Seo Ji-oh’ the foundation and basis for the portrait? Why did his disciples become the guardians of the Earth? And why did he return as a Mystery in the form of a portrait?

What was the price paid for the countless authorities of this being that mistook itself for a human?

’Did he become a Source from a human, or did he become a human from a Source?’

He was a truly strange friend.

"...I’m telling you again, please don’t exhibit this piece."

"Then it will go into the storage room in my room."

"It breaks my heart a little... but I guess it’s better than having something like this wandering the streets."

"Our snowfield wants to see the outside scenery, too..."

"Ugh, I don’t know if you’re being serious or joking, so it’s giving me goosebumps."

Yoo Sung-woon rummaged through his pockets. He chewed on a piece of candy and continued speaking.

"I know what your intentions are."

"It wasn’t really anything like that."

"Sure, if the garden becomes known to people, the burden on the Gardeners will be significantly lightened. Perhaps, looking at it broadly, widely, and far ahead, that might be the right thing to do. To make the existence of the Source known..."

However.

"However, not even a century has passed since the Great Cataclysm."

Even now, if you went outside of Korea, there were more zones that couldn’t even take the form of a nation. Now, no one even called those places nations anymore. They were simply remote backwaters. This world was that precarious.

"There’s no need to make things even more tiring for people who have just barely adapted by revealing the existence of the Source, is there?"

"I didn’t expect you to react this seriously."

"Uh, yeah. I guess so."

"To reiterate, I simply wanted to put it on exhibition."

The portrait blinked twice.

"...Because your snowfield is so beautiful."

"...You..."

Yoo Sung-woon laughed, feeling a mix of dejection and awkwardness.

"You, you really... know how to dig into a Gardener’s heart..."

"When did I ever do that? This is a false accusation. It’s so unfair."

"No, I meant it in a good way. You dig into it in a good way."

"It doesn’t sound like it has a positive nuance."

"Everyone feels differently about things."

He also felt a little embarrassed.

"If that was your ’intention’, then I guess I was just nagging you for no reason."

This portrait was simply being considerate of him.

’Was he trying to make it so that I wouldn’t have to be the only one looking at this scenery?’

That was certainly a sore spot for Gardeners. They had to love in loneliness for the rest of their lives. Respect, obsession, consideration, mercy, greed. They could never reveal any of those individual emotions under the name of love.

They couldn’t even if they tried. Because it was a sight that couldn’t be shown and didn’t exist. What they saw wasn’t some common tourist destination or beautiful scenic spot. It wasn’t a physical space. That was, truly, a rather difficult part...

"..."

Yoo Sung-woon slowly opened his mouth.

"...Do you know how Gardeners were treated at first?"

"You mean around 30 years ago?"

"Yeah, back then. And in countless other dimensions, too."

"Hmm."

Naturally, the portrait gave the correct answer.

"They must have been thought to have gone mad."

"Yeah, you’re right. They were treated like sick people."

They see, hear, and feel things that do not ’exist’ and fear them. Moreover, they become captivated by it and eventually fall in love. How horrifyingly insane must that have looked to others?

"The only way we can show the garden, the only way to prove its existence, is through ourselves. Our eyes. Our hair. Our body temperature. Physical mutations or... rarely, our body scent."

"It wouldn’t have served as definitive proof."

"Exactly, because like I said earlier, this can’t become ’a place where humans can see’."

This was true even among Gardeners. Even if humans looked into each other’s eyes, could they see that soul, that inner Mystery? No one possessed such a convenient authority.

That was why ’Ji-oh’s Portrait’ was all the more incredible. He made it possible to gauge that massive Mystery just by looking. It was also a given, considering he was the eye of the Source.

Yoo Sung-woon continued explaining.

"But really, this is all there is. There are absolutely no other means to show it beyond this. If we try to exert power beyond our limits, we, the only conduits, just end up dying..."

"I heard that once Gardeners belong to a garden, they cannot even obtain death."

"Because we can just vanish out of existence like that."

Wasn’t it so unfair?

"You can’t let anyone know about a subject that clearly exists."

"That must be exhausting for you."

"And lonely. This is, how should I put it, pretty much an occupational hazard for Gardeners."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Uh... sorry?"

He figured he had been on edge lately.

"Then again, there’s no way you’d force a change that isn’t wanted."

This portrait was merely walking the path it wanted, without any ulterior motives. He supposed he had been afraid because it resembled the Divinities who were trying to overturn the Earth. Even though he knew deep down that this guy wasn’t like that.

His mind felt a little more at ease.

"..."

It was a languid sensation, much like when he had acknowledged and accepted the fact that he had become friends with this portrait.

"...Then, is it possible to just show it? So that people can’t visit..."

"That would require considering the intentions of the person involved, but I think I could convey your opinion to them. Is that what you want?"

"..."

Yoo Sung-woon asked.

"Does this piece have a title, too?"

"It’s ’Yoo Sung-woon’."

"Aha."

Laughter spilled out.

"Of course."

He had thought the guy knew him far too well.

That day, a large painting of a snowfield was hung in Yoo Sung-woon’s house.

"Whoa."

"Joo-hyun, is that all you have to say after seeing this magnificent painting?"

"To bring in such a hazardous item that makes you dizzy just looking at it..."

"It’s Ji-oh’s painting."

"You’ve displayed it in the perfect spot. It looks excellent."

"Right?"

Change wasn’t always a bad thing.

"...It actually looks like a house where people live now."

"This does?"

"Just let me wallow in my sentiments for a bit."

He wasn’t sure where this artwork might run off to, though.

Regardless, it was a day where a piece of Yoo Sung-woon’s loneliness was lifted away.