Have You Seen His Eyes?
“Oh dear.”
The exclamation slipped out despite his efforts to smother it, as though he were trying to keep up a gentlemanly façade.
Bi Sa-beol asked,
“So you stayed hidden because you thought people would be afraid of you?”
“I never put it quite that strongly, but as a summary, it isn’t wrong.”
Yu Seong-un nodded.
“He seemed to understand that when a being with a soul of such high rank encounters unprotected people, problems arise. Still, the fact that he insists he’s an ordinary human is… puzzling, to say the least.”
Bi Sa-beol narrowed his eyes into serpentine slits.
“We can’t completely rule out the possibility that he’s a humanoid monster that simply took the form of a portrait. Even so, he can’t be regarded as a mere monster. He harbors no hatred toward humans at all.”
“……”
“If even Curator Yu Seong-un can’t yet be certain what he is, then he is almost certainly connected to the Source. And since you haven’t filed a formal report, I take it this is a type of existence you’ve never seen before.”
“Yes. For now.”
Entities of the Source that a Gardener like Yu Seong-un did not know were rare.
Dungeon monsters are also born from the veins of the Source, but when it comes to sheer difficulty, they are in a completely different league from Children of the Source. If Ji-oh is a Child of the Source of a kind I’ve never encountered, the situation becomes far more complicated.
The so-called Children of the Source could appear in any dungeon. Unlike ordinary monsters, they could not be resolved by simple subjugation. Vast knowledge and the ability to respond were essential—and Yu Seong-un had been working as a Gardener since the age of eleven. He was a veteran. For that very reason, “Ji-oh’s Portrait,” an existence he did not recognize, was clearly something to be treated with caution.
“In any case, even if we call him a Child of the Source, he is an exceptional one. That much is certain.”
If monsters and Children of the Source shared anything, it was that neither truly grasped how fragile Earth’s people were. Even when they did understand, monsters hated humans, while Children of the Source remained indifferent to them. Either way, the result was harmful to humanity.
“Cases this favorable toward humans are rare.”
“No wonder the Association is so eager to get their hands on him.”
“I’ve asked before, but do you intend to hand him over?”
“I have no such intention.”
Bi Sa-beol’s possessiveness ran deep. Even for a brief examination, he never left what was his in someone else’s hands. A clean transaction might have been different, but he would never settle for anything half-hearted.
“Curator Yu Seong-un seems to be managing him perfectly well. Is there any real reason to transfer him to the Association’s research facility?”
“If Ji-oh is a Child of the Source, he could harm people without the slightest sense of guilt. He would simply claim he was following his own rules… but we have no idea how great a disaster that could become for humans.”
Investigation was necessary.
“At my current level, all I can grasp is the story of the portrait itself. I can’t determine exactly what abilities he uses, how vast his soul’s rank truly is, or what role he plays within the Source.”
“I’m not the sort of person who wants those things.”
“……”
“Do you remember what I asked of you when I hired you, Seong-un?”
Yu Seong-un answered with something like a sigh.
“Analysis, maintenance, and management of the gallery’s works.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m no longer the Association’s research team leader. There’s nowhere that can analyze ‘Ji-oh’s Portrait’ as thoroughly as they could.”
“What a cold thing to say. You know this as well as I do, Curator—I don’t want a weapon.”
“Yes. Of course.”
“I want a work of art.”
Bi Sa-beol’s eyes curved into a thin smile. The natural arrogance of someone born to look down on others seeped through every word.
“That’s why I founded this guild, this company. I take pride as a collector of art, but as a hunter? Not even a shred.”
“……”
“No collector expects Van Gogh’s self-portrait to ward off evil spirits or grant pleasant dreams. No one cares about its functions. They simply want to know the story held within the painting—and to protect that story completely with their own hands.”
“It could still become truly dangerous. He’s the only existence that escapes your emotion skill, and even if he shows consideration and respect for humans, his rank is far too high. You may not feel divinity from him, but he’s nearly on the level of a god served by priests. Just because the portrait is careful doesn’t mean humans can rest easy.”
“Have you seen those eyes?”
“……”
The question came out of nowhere.
“…Excuse me?”
“Have you ever looked into those eyes, Seong-un?”
“…The eyes of the portrait, you mean?”
“Oh my. So you haven’t.”
“No—it isn’t that I haven’t.”
“Then tell me.”
Bi Sa-beol gave an elegant little wave of his hand. Even the gesture urging an answer carried the refined air of someone of high station.
“What were they like?”
“……”
Yu Seong-un’s hesitation did not last long.
“…Distant. Vast.”
Terror. Awe and revulsion, rage and sorrow, joy and ecstasy, despair, loneliness and dizziness—all directed at a presence so immense that a single moment was not enough to fully comprehend it.
“…I don’t know how to put it into words. I have an emotion skill of my own, but even without using it, that rank was so clear that I couldn’t grasp it objectively.”
It was far too vast to be reduced to a cliché like “the universe.” He felt as though he himself were touching places that were both visible and invisible.
“They seemed black, yet at times they looked white. They were so dark they almost felt bright. Pupil and iris seemed indistinguishable, and yet when you looked deeper… intricate paths appeared.”
There was rainwater within them. Streams, brooks, aquifers. They were dense like the grain of wood, delicate like human blood vessels, and at the same time so immense and multicolored that no human could fully perceive their expanse. It felt as though one had glimpsed something that should never be seen. Something that vast was contained inside those narrow pupils.
“The old saying came to mind—that the eyes are the windows of the soul.”
“A fine impression. Not bad at all.”
“The way you say that makes it sound as if my impression was unsatisfactory.”
“Well, it can’t be helped.”
Bi Sa-beol smiled as though watching a very young child make a clumsy mistake. Yu Seong-un suddenly recalled the man’s true age. He was more than old enough to teach him.
“I told you to look at the eyes, and you came back having only appreciated the artwork. Before our professions and tastes, we are humans capable of conversation.”
“……”
“If Ji-oh has a self, then he also has eyes with which he can communicate with people.”
He asked again.
“Have you seen his eyes?”
“…In the sense you mean right now—no.”
“Not the rank of his soul or the torrent inside his pupils. Have you ever considered what emotions the person named Ji-oh feels, or with what kind of gaze he looks at you?”
“No. I haven’t.”
Who could think such a thing while standing before that immense presence?
How dare someone as small and insignificant as me…
“…That kind of thing… no one but Guildmaster Bi Sa-beol could manage it.”
“A Gardener shouldn’t have such a narrow mind. Think bigger. Much bigger.”
“Aren’t you expecting far too much from a mere Gardener?”
“Ji-oh is a kind person.”
“……”
“Extremely gentle.”
Bi Sa-beol continued as though instructing a child.
“He dislikes inconvenience, yet he never hates anyone for it. If someone refuses to resent the things that make him uncomfortable—how kind must that person be? He observes proper manners and respects others without ever forcing them. His mercy runs deep.”
“A generous assessment.”
“Furthermore, he is afraid of harming anyone.”
“……”
That was unexpected.
“…Ji-oh? At most it would be like a human stepping on an ant.”
“Exactly.”
“Not the disgust of watching a bug burst in front of him, but fear of the act of harming itself?”
“I did say he was kind, didn’t I?”
“You haven’t even held a conversation—you’ve only locked eyes with him once, and yet…”
“This is the level of ability required to be a guildmaster. You have to be able to read that much from a single meeting of eyes.”
“…I suppose that’s true.”
Bi Sa-beol was the man who had built one of Korea’s three great guilds using nothing but an emotion skill, without any separate combat power. Considering that his physical abilities were only average for a man, one could imagine just how formidable those eyes and that mouth truly were.
Of course someone like him would see things differently from me. The way he looks at the world itself must be different.
Yu Seong-un swallowed a sigh and spoke.
“…I understand. You’re saying we can continue as we are without further measures?”
“I’m glad you understand so well. Ji-oh will do his utmost not to harm humans, so please just make sure he doesn’t get angry. Kind people are always the most terrifying when they finally lose their temper.”
“That’s exactly why I’m trying to prevent that from happening…”
“There’s no way to stop an individual from getting angry, and even if there were, it would inevitably end in sealing or destroying the portrait. No matter how harsh the world has become, we can’t treat someone who is simply trying to live peacefully that way.”
“……”
Yu Seong-un asked with a complicated expression,
“…Are you looking at him as a person? At ‘Ji-oh’s Portrait’?”
“Then who has Curator Yu Seong-un been conversing with all this time?”
“His rank is different.”
“But he is an existence that possesses the will to communicate and regards himself as a person.”
“That’s…”
“How is that any different from a human?”
Bi Sa-beol spoke almost as if singing.
“Dangerous humans already exist in abundance even without Ji-oh’s Portrait. Right now, in South Korea alone, there are five hunters with high-risk abilities, and each of them is living his own life just fine. Some people treat them like dangerous dogs and pick fights at every opportunity, but that was already happening a hundred years ago, before dungeons ever appeared.”
“If we remain this careless, something we regret may still happen. Ji-oh is more than capable of that.”
“Those dangerous hunters are allowed their daily lives. Who are we to oppress a portrait?”
“It wouldn’t be oppression—it would be investigation…”
“And what if that investigation makes Ji-oh angry?”
“……”
“You said he values courtesy. If we dig into his inner self without permission and earn his wrath, that would be a far greater disaster. Simply become a good conversation partner for him.”
He pointed beyond the wall of windows that formed one entire side of the room.
“And take him outside from time to time.”
“…Are you serious?”
“I know what you’re worried about, Seong-un.”
Bi Sa-beol nodded.
“Of course I do. Children of the Source are extremely secretive, cautious beings. They are part of the ecosystem that takes little interest in humans. They are nature itself—and for that very reason, they can arrive as disasters. I know they are that kind of existence.”
“……”
“And humans, too, are part of nature.”
He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Ji-oh is no different.”
“…Yes.”
“Be good to him. If he has rules, match them. If petty conflicts build up between you, bicker a little and work them out.”
“Understood.”
“If he himself said he is twenty-nine, then that is correct. He’s a young man who hasn’t even reached thirty. As his senior in life, shouldn’t we look after him?”
“…There’s a high chance Ji-oh is mistaken. He may not actually be twenty-nine; his memories may simply be calibrated to a twenty-nine-year-old youth. In reality he could be well over a thousand years old. If he’s a Child of the Source, that’s entirely possible.”
“What does that matter?”
“……”
Yu Seong-un let out a breath and nodded.
“You’re right. It doesn’t.”
He was a Gardener. He poured his heart into his garden, lavished affection upon it, and took pride in it. Ji-oh was an existence connected to the Source that formed the foundation of gardens. Though he spoke of the need for countermeasures, as long as the portrait did not make the first aggressive move, he wanted to treat him with the same gentlemanly courtesy.
“I went to the trouble of speaking as a curator for a collector…”
“I am always grateful for our Curator Yu Seong-un’s consideration.”
“That’s creepy. Stop it. Anyway, so…”
Yu Seong-un glanced at his watch and asked,
“You want me to become Ji-oh’s guide?”
“While you’re at it, give him a tour of our guild, introduce him to the staff, take him outside to see a good play if there’s one, buy him food, show him the sights.”
“A real guide, then. Still, introducing him to the staff feels a bit much… They’ll probably refuse first. Ji-oh doesn’t like noise either.”
“Use your own judgment. If he prefers quiet, help him look around the company or the city even at dawn.”
“What exactly are you trusting…?”
“I told you I saw them.”
A clear smile.
“I saw them.”
“……”
Bi Sa-beol saw things humans could not see. Yu Seong-un decided to trust that.
“…Understood.”
“I’ll continue to rely on you, Curator Yu Seong-un.”
“If an accident happens, I’m washing my hands of it.”
“That much I can handle myself.”
“Honestly, I never know what you’re thinking…”
He was grumbling, yet Yu Seong-un’s mood was rather good.
I can expand his range of activity.
He had already been fretting over the fact that Ji-oh was always confined inside the portrait. Ji-oh himself claimed he was more comfortable there, but formally letting him know he was allowed to come and go would surely put his mind more at ease.
Maybe it’s because he’s the first Child of the Source I’ve met who communicates this smoothly… looking at him quietly makes me want to do all sorts of things for him.
As a Gardener and as a curator, Yu Seong-un felt a fond sense of pride. Facing that immense rank head-on would change the story, but for now Ji-oh was simply a talking portrait. Since Yu Seong-un was the one managing him, such feelings were not entirely strange.
…It’s still a ridiculously reckless impression. When the day comes that I properly face that rank, I must be careful not to freeze up and make Ji-oh uncomfortable.
Something entered Yu Seong-un’s field of vision as he left the guild building.
“……”
A bungeoppang cart.
“…Those are rare these days.”
Yu Seong-un approached the fish-bread cart with genuine delight.
“Are you open?”
“Ah, yes. We are.”
“How much for ten?”
“Five thousand won.”
“I’ll take them.”
“Just a moment.”
The cart’s owner was a young man with a blunt face.
“Here you are.”
“They look delicious… Do you come here regularly?”
“Until the crackdown catches me, I suppose.”
“Hmm.”
Something about that curt tone faintly reminded him of Ji-oh.
“……”
Ah. Right.
“Ten more, please.”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you.”
“What for?”
“Places selling bungeoppang have become rare. Even more so lately.”
“Ah…”
It would take time for a new batch to finish cooking, so Yu Seong-un kept the conversation going. The young man, perhaps bored himself, answered more warmly than his clipped tone suggested.
“Business is hard, yeah. But if I try selling bungeoppang outside the city, nobody buys them, so I slip in like this whenever I can.”
“Oh—so you come all the way from outside the city?”
“Who among city people would do this kind of work?”
The young man shrugged.
“Most of them have office jobs or work as hunters, don’t they?”
“Still, that’s quite a distance. You must get tired. Impressive.”
“There are a few people who help me out because they find bungeoppang nostalgic, so I’m managing for now. My younger sibling also works as a hunter around here…”
“Finding a place to live nearby must still be expensive.”
“City rent is hard to handle. Getting citizenship isn’t something just anyone can do either.”
“Short-term permits are easy enough to get these days, aren’t they? People say the barrier for those has gotten lower.”
“I do get the permits. Sometimes I can’t finish work before the terminal closes… I just don’t bother looking for lodging. It costs time and money and doesn’t really benefit me.”
The young man flipped the bungeoppang molds as he spoke.
“Besides, I’ve got a ten-year-old sibling at home. I have to go back.”
“Ah—that settles it. Leaving them alone when a monster could appear in the village would be a disaster. Having an older brother around must be reassuring.”
“My younger sister also works as a porter, so I only earn money here. I go home once every three days and leave again the following week. Right now she’s at the family house, so I’m the one out working.”
“That’s impressive.”
“Sales are good around here, so it’s worth it.”
“Is that so…”
Yu Seong-un tilted his head and asked,
“How long do you think you’ll keep coming?”
“Probably until early spring… It’s still winter. Once the weather warms up, I’ll have to find something else.”
“That’s still quite a while. I’ll see you around, then.”
“Thank you.”
The young man took the bungeoppang from the machine. Steam rose thickly from the freshly cooked pastries. A rich, savory aroma filled the air.
“Eat them while they’re hot.”
“Oh—thank you.”
Yu Seong-un carried the bungeoppang back toward the company—more precisely, toward “Ji-oh’s Portrait,” which would be waiting in Bi Sa-beol’s gallery.
“Ji-oh, are you awake?”
“……”
“Ji-oh?”
Fortunately, Ji-oh opened his eyes almost at once.
“What is it?”
“Someone was selling bungeoppang in front of the station, so I bought some.”
“It doesn’t look like ‘some.’”
“Ah, right. Not just one. I brought about ten, hoping you might like them.”
“……”
The portrait blinked once or twice, then nodded.
“Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve received bungeoppang.”
“You know what bungeoppang are?”
“I didn’t know they still existed, though.”
“…Really?”
As expected, Ji-oh seemed to be a being who had once lived in Korea.
Or perhaps he was from a similar dimension… Even if he never lived here, he might have simply received the memories.
When Yu Seong-un held out the bag of bungeoppang, it soon sank into the painting.
“Oh… it really became part of the picture.”
“Thank you for the gift.”
“It’s nothing. I hope they suit your taste.”
“I like this kind of street food.”
“That’s a relief.”
He had been worried because of that icy, impenetrable expression.
His looks are rather aristocratic.
Ji-oh sometimes seemed like a heavenly noble who had never once gotten his hands wet, and at other times like an AI civil servant manufactured for the frantic modern world. With an atmosphere so sharp and heavy that even a glance at his face carried weight, Yu Seong-un had briefly worried whether he would actually enjoy street food—whether he might look at it with contempt and say, How dare you offer me something like this and call it food?
“Next time, if I see egg bread or takoyaki, should I get those too?”
“……”
“…Ji-oh?”
After a moment of silence, Ji-oh took something from his robes.
A neatly tied white pouch.
“…What’s that?”
“Tea leaves.”
“Tea?”
“There was a flower with a fine fragrance, so I dried it.”
“……”
“A return gift.”
When he stretched out his hand, Ji-oh’s hand emerged from the painting, pouch and all.
“…That’s a new one.”
“Please take it.”
“Uh—yes. Thank you.”
Rustle.
A pleasant scent drifted from the paper pouch resting on his palm.
It smells like cream.
The fragrance of sweet custard or milk cream.
“……”
His feelings were a little complicated.
…If I tell him he doesn’t have to give something back every single time, will that sound rude to a Child of the Source who lives by rules? I always feel a bit awkward receiving more than I give.
Yu Seong-un tucked the pouch inside his coat and said,
“Thank you. It’s been a while since I’ve had tea—I’ll look forward to it.”
“I hope it suits your taste.”
“The scent is wonderful already. I’ll drink it with gratitude.”
“And I have a request.”
“Huh? A request?”
Ji-oh asked,
“Would you bring me seeds?”
“…What kind of seeds?”
“Anything that can be cultivated in a field is fine.”
“……”
Just what was he doing inside there?
A field, of all things.
For a moment, Yu Seong-un found himself wondering what the landscape inside the portrait looked like.
(To be continued)