The Artist Who Paints Dungeon-Chapter 119

A little time passed, and the first round of training for the new curators came to an end.

"During your time here, you’ve worked with your assigned curator and encountered various pieces, learning the proper attitude a curator at the Collectors' Guild should have towards both the art and the customers. You've all worked hard over the past three weeks."

However, this didn’t mean they were immediately hired as permanent staff.

"From now on, each of you will be assigned a piece to take care of. Based on how you performed during the three-week training, the most suitable works have been selected for each of you. If managing your assigned work proves too difficult, you may be dismissed."

"......"

"Even if you’re dismissed, it will be from the gallery. If you don’t cause any serious accidents, you'll still be able to move into an administrative or field position at the Collectors' Guild. It’s simply about choosing candidates who can maintain stability within the gallery, so there's no need to worry too much."

Seong-Woon spoke to the five new curators before him.

"You’ve had three weeks of training, and since none of you objected or showed any reluctance to change your positions, I believe all of you are in favor of becoming curators at the Collectors' Guild. If you'd like to continue working here, please sign the agreement in front of you."

All five of the new curators signed the agreement. It stated that they would do their best to care for their assigned pieces and take responsibility for any issues that might arise.

Though similar to a waiver of bodily harm, these were no longer things that would scare the new curators. It was enough that they weren't solely responsible for any issues that occurred.

Having grown up seeing the worst in illegal guilds, they now sought the safety of working for one of Korea's three major guilds, and the Collectors' Guild, in particular, was highly prestigious.

"Looks like everyone agrees."

Seong-Woon nodded.

"As you may have already checked, there’s information about the pieces you’ll be in charge of on the back of the agreement."

"...Ah...."

"The Collectors' Guild is a warehouse and research facility where the most dangerous and sensitive items are stored. Naturally, there are many pieces whose identities and handling methods are unknown...”

"......."

"For you newcomers, almost all of the pieces assigned have been fully identified. These are pieces where, if you just follow the guidelines and manuals, there should be no problems."

The longer a curator worked at the gallery, and the more pieces they managed, the more dangerous the pieces became. However, this was not something the newcomers, who were just beginning to adapt to the gallery, needed to worry about.

"One year."

Seong-Woon said.

"You will have one year. Some of you may decide to leave if you can't endure it, or you might find a piece that suits you better. I hope you all will take the opportunity to work as curators at the Collectors' Guild for the coming year."

"...So, does that mean the pieces assigned to us can change in the middle of the year?"

"Many of the pieces are very firm in their requirements, so even if we've done our best to assign them, there will be times when mismatches occur. If a piece or curator is deemed incompatible, your assignment may change during the year."

That wasn't just a problem for the curators. Even if a curator tried their best, sometimes the condition of a piece would change unexpectedly.

"Then, I look forward to working with you."

With Seong-Woon’s closing words, the basic curator training came to an end.

"As much as I’d like to greet you whenever I see you around, I’m usually assigned to the works on the fifth floor, and I travel often, so it’ll be hard to meet you easily."

"Thank you for everything."

"I should be the one thanking you for following the training well. Please, don’t cause any accidents. As you’ve heard during the training, accidents don’t just affect you; many others can die too."

Seong-Woon finished his words with his usual calm smile, despite the chilling nature of what he said.

"Once again, welcome to the Collectors' Gallery."

And just like that, the new curators were thrown into the wild.

"......"

"......"

A rather eerie wild, at that.

The piece the man was assigned was a set of porcelain dolls.

"......"

The official name was "Sweet Tea Party," consisting of three porcelain dolls, smaller than the hands of an adult male.

‘Risk level: Grade 6.’

The works at the Collectors' Gallery were classified on a risk scale from 1 to 10, with higher numbers indicating safer works. Compared to the other new curators who had been assigned works with risk levels of 8 or 10, the man had been given a piece with a risk level of 6 on the third floor.

‘It’s more dangerous than the works assigned to the other new curators who got pieces in the 10 to 8 range.’

Whether this was something to be happy about or whether it was a sign of increased danger, he wasn’t sure.

Seong-Woon, the curator, had casually mentioned, "If it gets too difficult, just request another piece."

But...

"...No need for that just yet."

The "Sweet Tea Party" porcelain doll set depicted three girls dressed in elaborate dresses.

‘The response is simple, except for the requirement to keep the timing exact.’

The dolls requested sweets at precisely the right time, and once those sweets were eaten, the dolls would engage in conversation, and the pieces would be ready for the next step.

‘There’s a 5-second window. If I give the sweets too early or too late, the dolls will turn into porcelain humans.’

It was a terrifying penalty that could result in death with a single mistake, but that was the same when he had worked as an A-class combat hunter in the field.

"Five seconds is more than enough for a Hunter like me..."

As an A-class Hunter, he could make judgments and act within 0.01 seconds. It felt much safer than battling monsters in a dungeon, where a lot of effort and injury were involved.

"......"

The "Sweet Tea Party" was displayed in the 28th hallway of the third floor. Seeing that it was displayed in a public space, the man’s face relaxed a little.

The fact that it wasn’t kept in a locked storage and was in a hallway that any curator could walk through meant it was relatively safe.

‘For a third-floor piece, it’s a bit risky, but still... this level of safety is acceptable.’

He felt somewhat reassured.

"...It’s quite adorable."

The porcelain dolls, dressed in elaborate frills, looked as if they would leave white powder on your hands if touched. The blush on their cheeks was painted a ripe peach color, and their eyes were a soft yellow, with fine lashes highlighting their features.

Their eyes sparkled in purple, yellow, and green, possibly made with embedded jewels.

‘It’s strange that I can’t tell if they’re looking at me. It’s almost as if their whole eyeball is made of jewels, so there’s no distinct cornea or sclera... I can’t tell if they’re staring at me.’

If it weren’t for the uncanny atmosphere that came from not being able to gauge their gaze, this might have been a highly sought-after collection for those who enjoyed collecting dolls.

"Today's snack is star-shaped candy."

Each doll requested star-shaped candy in purple, yellow, and green.

"......"

As the clock struck 4 AM, the time scheduled for the tea party, the man carefully placed the star-shaped candies in small bowls that suited the dolls’ sizes. The candy looked huge compared to the small porcelain bodies of the dolls.

Then, the dolls began to move.

"...Oh..."

Crack, clink.

Using knives with no sharp edge, the dolls cut the star-shaped candy in a manner reminiscent of how one would slice a cake.

The soft texture of the candy, like mousse cake, was quite fascinating.

"It’s a delightful sweetness."

"It’s a lovely tea party."

"It’s a wonderful time."

Once the tea party was over, the dolls made their evaluations. The number of negative evaluations determined the fortune for the day. Thinking about this, the man sighed in relief.

‘Today’s fortune shouldn’t be bad.’

Then, something strange happened.

"It’s a delightful crispness."

"It’s a delightful firmness."

"It’s a delightful fragrance."

"It’s a lovely dawn."

"It’s a delightful snack."

"It’s a wonderful choice."

"It’s a lovely gift."

Seven additional statements.

"......"

It was clearly an anomaly.

"...This isn’t in the manual..."

In a panic, the man hurriedly read the manual again, but before he could check, the dolls spoke again.

"Master."

"Master is coming."

"Let’s dress sweetly."

The porcelain dolls added statements that weren’t in the manual.

"...This wasn’t in the information..."

The "Sweet Tea Party" dolls were supposed to only speak three sentences per tea party. They always began with "Good-" or "Bad-," and there was never anyone who could be called "Master."

"What’s happening..."

Just as he reached for the radio to request help, it happened.

"......"

"......"

"......"

The dolls were all looking at the same spot.

"......"

The man turned around.

The sea.

The sun.

The deer.

The birds.

The clouds.

The flowers.

The fog.

The spring.

The touch.

The teeth.

The eyes.

The pupils.

Human?

"...Ah..."

He saw it.

A blonde man with a kind smile.

"Wh-Who are you...?"

The man was somewhat startled, but he quickly positioned himself in front of the dolls to shield them from view. It was a precaution to avoid any potential danger.

‘I didn’t sense anything before...’

Confusion flooded the man’s mind as he tried to make sense of the situation. He prided himself on his sharp senses, yet this person had appeared without a trace.

‘...If I, someone who’s confident in detecting presences, didn’t notice him, then no B-class or lower Hunter would have a chance. I’ve never heard of a new S-class Hunter in Korea. Could he be some kind of unofficial, high-level Hunter?’

Already on edge, the man felt even more disoriented as he processed the bizarre events he had witnessed from the moment he began working alone. He couldn’t let his guard down.

He observed the figure before him, who was smiling without a care in the world. The man’s golden hair shone softly, and his °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° smile was gentle, almost too perfect.

It was a bit unsettling.

‘...The atmosphere is warm and kind, yet...’

Breathing became difficult.

The air felt thick, as though something ominous was about to happen.