The Ghost of the White Gallery
A pure white gallery.
Pure white lights.
"……."
Alone among the works glittering under the light stood a man of pure black.
...He's here.
At the request of someone from Human Resources, Yu Seong-un had been staking out the gallery. He held his presence carefully concealed as he fixed his gaze on the "ghost."
Whether fortune or misfortune, the very day he received the request he was able to confirm the subject of the rumors for himself. Just as he had been told in advance, it was a tall man wrapped head to toe in a jet-black cloak.
And not a single footstep…
The rumored "ghost" was barefoot.
Even barefoot, silence this complete is unnatural.
Yet it was not as if there was no sound at all.
The previous curators must not have heard it because they lacked auditory enhancement skills…
Yu Seong-un closed his eyes.
"……."
A soft rustle. A soft rustle.
A faint dry scrape…
"……."
Extremely light.
An extremely light noise.
...This is…
He opened his eyes again.
...It sounds like plants brushing against each other.
A strange comparison, yet that was the judgment he reached.
The sound of something lighter than a gram—thin vines or dry petals, perhaps—puffed into a soft ball and rolled along. That faint, excessively empty noise did not belong to a man nearly a hundred and eighty-eight centimeters tall.
"……."
Yu Seong-un remained hidden between the artworks and a pillar, continuing his observation.
...He's appreciating them.
The "ghost" wandered the empty gallery and from time to time came to a stop before pieces protected behind glass walls. He lingered especially long in front of sculptures and paintings.
The surprising part was that he truly was only looking.
Given how many dangerous objects are here, touching even one would cause chaos, yet fortunately he isn't. Looks like a high-intelligence type of monster—definitely an unusual case.
That did not mean he ignored other forms of art either.
Is he genuinely interested in art, just killing time, or searching for usable items…
With his hands clasped behind his back like some lofty noble or a well-drilled soldier, the "ghost" strolled the gallery with a heavy, measured air.
It almost created the illusion that he was the master of this place. Out of nowhere Yu Seong-un found himself thinking of a story about a vampire in some old castle.
A vampire count… a bit childish, maybe.
Considering the corpse-pale skin and the distinctly inhuman presence, though, the comparison fit rather well.
After circling the gallery for a long while, the black cloak…
"…Ah."
…looked straight at the hidden Yu Seong-un.
"……."
Their eyes met.
"……."
"……."
Black eyes.
In that instant Yu Seong-un felt his mind grow distant.
...What is that…
What is that?
Black.
Too black.
And yet bright.
It seemed warm yet felt cold; it seemed empty yet was heavy.
Even across a clear distance he could not look away, to the point that he could make out the vessels of those eyes. Or perhaps they were not vessels. Thin, elegant branches wrought of gold and silver spread as vast as a forest. The black center where no pupil could be distinguished was so dark it stirred a quiet dread.
It was too vast. So vast that human cognition could not possibly take it in. A sensation of breath catching in the throat. Groundless rage and awe rising together.
Nothing was constricting his airway, yet power enough to stop his breathing of its own accord lived inside those eyes. Neither hiding nor flaunting—simply there.
Existing.
"……."
"……."
Two blinks.
"……."
A soft scrape…
Accompanied by that faint noise, the cloak moved.
"……."
A little farther away.
Farther still.
The presence that stopped at an even greater distance then vanished altogether.
"……."
Yu Seong-un moved his feet.
The place where the presence had cut off was none other than in front of Ji-oh's Portrait.
"……."
…As if putting on some coy act.
It had closed those unfathomable eyes as though nothing at all had happened.
"This is driving me crazy."
Day 1, complete.
Even in a world with supernatural powers, not everything about "ghosts" could be explained. The continued existence of the profession of shaman made that clear enough.
Explaining a moving portrait was no easier.
"……."
"……."
4:29 a.m.
The portrait opened its eyes.
"…Ah."
Yu Seong-un let out an involuntary sound of wonder.
The man of gloomy bearing who had been watching him—Ji-oh—parted his lips.
"Good day to you."
"……."
"Good morning."
"Morning, is it…"
At those words Yu Seong-un looked at the background of the portrait.
"……."
Ah. Indeed.
It was a forest bathed in brilliant sunlight.
"…It's still dawn over here, though."
"I see."
As he spoke, Ji-oh's pupils took in Bi Sa-beol's gallery.
"The lights are always so white that I could not tell it was dawn."
His voice, which carried a certain dissonance, was even more blunt than Yu Seong-un had imagined. Words were clearly being spoken and Yu Seong-un was clearly hearing them, yet somehow he could not shake the sense that it was "quiet."
How to describe this sense of wrongness? Mechanical was not the right word. It was more…
"I apologize."
"…There's no need to apologize for something like that."
"Thank you for your consideration."
An even tone, as if he already knew exactly what he ought to say next. A voice so clear it seemed to possess fixed input phrases, and it reached the ear with uncanny ease.
"I was surprised, however."
"By what?"
"People who see a speaking portrait and are not frightened are uncommon."
"……."
Neither the calm voice nor the blunt face showed any particular emotion. For someone claiming to have been surprised, the reaction was hardly fitting.
He's clumsy at lying.
Or perhaps he simply felt no need to lie skillfully. In any case, that gloomily set face did not look capable of flexible acting.
While Yu Seong-un was thinking this, the portrait asked again.
"May I ask your name?"
"I am…"
Even if Yu Seong-un was only an insignificant human, the power held by a true name was dangerous everywhere.
In every contract that binds the soul, the most important thing is each other's names, after all.
So this portrait—Ji-oh's Portrait—might hear Yu Seong-un's name and form some bizarre contract. To strange beings of every culture, a name was that significant a concept.
Yet he answered readily.
"Yu Seong-un."
Seventeen staff members had given their names to this portrait and suffered no harm. For it to do something wicked to Yu Seong-un alone now would not match the regularity it had shown so far, so this much could be shared.
Even after hearing the name, the portrait's face remained blunt. Though it was the one driving the conversation, it seemed to feel little interest.
Would it be strange to call that arrogance?
"I see. Mr. Yu Seong-un."
"……."
"You have the face of someone with questions."
"I do, yes."
"Will you converse with me?"
He was being invited to talk.
The same path as the previous seventeen.
Yu Seong-un felt a strange weight.
The weight of rules, no doubt.
It was dense enough that thrashing would have been difficult, yet not so heavy that his feet sank deep into mud.
This air, this sensation, felt as though a vast whale were carefully regulating the waves for the sake of a mere human floating on the sea.
"……."
Yes.
This was "consideration."
"…Then I'd like to ask a question."
Having come this far, there was no backing down, so Yu Seong-un decided to converse as the portrait had suggested.
"Is it possible for you to come out of that portrait?"
"Yes. I can leave."
"……."
Monsters hated humans. Since the question concerned its own information, he had expected at least a moment's hesitation, yet the answer came faster than he could have anticipated.
Had his confusion shown on his face? Ji-oh, who had been staring at him without a single blink, pointed it out.
"You look startled."
"I didn't think you'd answer so… readily."
"There was no reason I could not tell you."
"Why?"
"Because you asked."
"What if I asked with impure motives?"
"That is a lie."
The portrait spoke in a low, measured, yet clear and firm voice.
"Mr. Yu Seong-un is a kind and well-mannered person."
"…Me?"
"That is why I spoke to you as well."
"……."
"Is that a sufficient answer?"
Yu Seong-un decided to be careful.
This portrait is sensitive to good and evil.
And by some unknown standard, it also possessed the ability to distinguish the good and evil of others. It could classify a stranger after a single conversation.
In that case, if someone it judged evil spoke to this portrait… would it simply ignore them?
Or would it attack?
"……."
"Do you have a question?"
"Ah… right."
Recalling the recent "ghost disturbance," Yu Seong-un asked,
"The black-cloaked figure I witnessed yesterday—that was you, Ji-oh, correct?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"Then the 'ghost' who has been wandering this gallery lately in a jet-black cloak and handing out delicious gifts is also you… is that right as well?"
"……."
What was it thinking? Ji-oh blinked twice and murmured,
"A ghost, is it."
"…I'm sorry if that offended you."
"No. A speaking portrait can certainly be described as possessed."
The portrait continued in its characteristic blunt tone.
"However, I have never died."
"……."
"Even so, the 'ghost' you spoke of does seem to be me."
"…Was there a reason you were wandering the gallery?"
"I was curious where I currently am."
His voice was very calm and low. It was a voice that made it hard to imagine him taking interest in anything.
"Rare works were on display, and they drew my interest."
"……."
"I was curious what kind of place this gallery is, what sort of people work here, what lives they lead, what names and tastes they have."
The tone remained dry, yet the answer itself—showing such interest in human ways of life—was thoroughly monster-like.
No… I'm not certain, but it might not even be a monster.
In that case the matter would grow even more complicated.
"……."
"When one is alone, one seeks someone to talk to."
Whatever it intended, Ji-oh's jet-black eyes touched Yu Seong-un. It was an artificial shift of gaze, as if deliberately announcing, I am looking at you.
"Especially if that someone is as well-mannered as you."
"You seem to like well-mannered people."
"I judged that the staff who manage this gallery would be more suitable conversation partners than the bright-red leader of this place, at least."
"By the leader… you mean Guildmaster Bi Sa-beol?"
"A talkative person."
The portrait's eyes narrowed slightly. It was a change so faint it was hard to notice, yet its meaning was clear.
"So talkative it is hard to even respond."
"……."
Ah. The guildmaster.
He made a bad impression.
So that was why the man had never managed to hold a conversation.
Every curator on the fifth basement level knew that Bi Sa-beol took a keen interest in Ji-oh's Portrait. They also knew how often he spoke to it, calling it a truly special piece.
And yet he never said a word about this portrait… so that was why.
He knew the portrait could speak and move, yet he had never actually conversed with Ji-oh himself.
Because Ji-oh, having judged Bi Sa-beol rude, deliberately refused to answer him.
He reaped what he sowed.
I always figured living like that would cost him someday. Honestly, that man deserved a little loss, but anyway.
Having organized his thoughts, Yu Seong-un bowed his head politely.
"I apologize."
"……."
"I will apologize on behalf of our guildmaster."
His role was to manage the works here.
Among those works were quite a few that possessed selfhood, like Ji-oh's Portrait. Especially with something presumed to be a humanoid monster like Ji-oh, violating its rules and crossing it would bring no good.
Above all, it seems sensitive about manners.
Fortunately the portrait's expression remained blunt. Neither pleased nor angry—still gloomy and pale, merely stiff, with no visible displeasure.
As expected, the portrait spoke in its neat voice.
"It is all right."
"Our guildmaster is a somewhat… unique person."
"He did not seem like a bad person. So it is all right."
"……."
Yu Seong-un filed away an additional note.
If someone is not evil, it will not treat them as an enemy even if they lack manners.
Even as he thought this, his breath caught. He could not casually measure the opponent's abilities.
An emotion skill of a level that can judge even Guildmaster Bi Sa-beol's good and evil… a monster hard to handle in many ways. An emotion skill of that caliber would be rare across the entire world.
No—whether an existence with those "eyes" could even be classified as a monster in the first place…
"……."
"……."
A brief silence fell, and then the portrait spoke again.
"Do you have a question?"
"…Your bluntness startles me, Ji-oh."
"I have merely kept my manners."
"Manners."
"Should a human not keep manners?"
That very point was what made him seem less than human.
Ordinary humans don't keep manners that meticulously, after all.
Rather, it had the feel of monsters with only a clumsy grasp of human life putting on an awkward imitation—overly thorough.
While Yu Seong-un felt a little worn out, the portrait moved on to another topic.
"This is the first time I have seen Mr. Yu Seong-un. Is that correct?"
"That's correct. Guildmaster Bi Sa-beol no longer has the time to manage your portrait himself, and the previous curators were reassigned to other works. So I took over the duty."
"I thank you for managing the portrait so cleanly. I wished to greet the previous people as well, but until now I was not prepared. Once more, thank you—including their share."
"Managing the works is simply the duty those people and I are supposed to perform, so there's no need for thanks. But I will let them know that you were grateful."
Still, a question arose.
"…Even when your eyes are closed, can you tell what people outside are doing? Have you been continuously observing this side from inside the portrait?"
To his question, Ji-oh answered with a blunt face whose intent could not be read.
"You are inside the frame, so I have no choice but to watch."
"……."
"Moving pictures are interesting."
"…I see."
Somehow.
It was a little chilling.
The pictures are not himself, but the humans outside… is that it?
Exactly which part was chilling, even Yu Seong-un himself could not say.
Simply that, if the portrait's words were accurate, Ji-oh was regarding everything outside the picture as a picture. Even though to us the picture was Ji-oh's Portrait.
To that picture, we…
"……."
…were the picture.
"Is that a sufficient answer?"
"…Yes."
Indeed, this was a dangerous existence.
"Probably."
Day 2, complete.
(To be continued)