Residents for the Empty City
There were three paintings Ji-oh had drawn some time ago.
“One of them was the Breathing Sea.”
Iser nodded as if he already understood.
“The space connected to the Abyssal Kingdom.”
“It’s also a framed doorway.”
“For a doorway, it seems far too lively…”
At present, inside the Abyssal Temple, one could find the landscape painting titled Breathing Sea. An ordinary visitor would never notice the flowing painting at a glance, but Iser—though only the second master—could sense its presence with certainty.
“At any rate, that too was one of the dungeons you painted, Teacher.”
“Yes. I hope it hasn’t been inconvenient. The connection was something even I never anticipated.”
“It didn’t seem to cause any real problems.”
Visitors still kept throwing themselves at the Abyssal Kingdom like moths to a flame, yet they were so insignificant that they never became a genuine threat. Outsiders, disoriented as they were, would never notice the doorway’s existence; there truly was nothing to worry about.
“More than anything, it doesn’t feel out of place.”
“Perhaps because I painted it while unconsciously recalling the neighborhood where we once lived together.”
“You mean Edelon village? It does share a similar atmosphere.”
The one who had painted it was Seo Ji-oh, yet even accounting for that, the Breathing Sea resembled the village where Giovanni had lived far too closely. It was possible that Giovanni’s soul had settled into Ji-oh’s body while he painted in a trance. Of course, nothing was certain.
Ever since becoming a portrait, Ji-oh’s life had completely left the realm of common sense, and he was not diligent enough to analyze every detail. Once again: Ji-oh thought about nothing at all.
“I wouldn’t call them completely the same. I simply wanted to paint a picture, and by chance a dimension that matched it already existed.”
The world where Giovanni had lived had perished, and under Aria’s lead it had become the dungeon known as the Abyssal Kingdom. Ji-oh had merely happened to paint a scene that coincided with a place inside that vast dungeon worthy of being called a “kingdom.”
“In short, the Abyssal Kingdom and the Breathing Sea are not truly separate spaces.”
“Perhaps that’s why, even though it appeared newly, it never felt foreign.”
Iser continued as if murmuring to himself.
“Having a place I can visit you whenever I wish has also put me at ease.”
“I felt bad for unintentionally meddling with the interior design, so I’m relieved it doesn’t bother you that much.”
“Interior design.”
“Is the English word unfamiliar?”
“Earth’s words are basically interpreted for me, so I understood.”
Iser simply thought it a rather modest word for the scale of what had been done.
“Anyway, that’s how the Breathing Sea is currently being used.”
The Breathing Sea, where the Sun God had once been imprisoned, already justified its existence simply by allowing a new family to move in and by letting them freely bring home seafood. The fatty fish there tasted incredible no matter how they were cooked.
“The remaining two paintings after that were the Kingdom of Animals and the Empty City.”
They were pieces he had painted quite a while ago.
“Of the two, the Kingdom of Animals sometimes connects with the forest where I live, and creatures from there occasionally wander over.”
“Creatures… not monsters? There are monsters that take the form of perfectly ordinary beasts, but…”
“They definitely weren’t monsters. Same as the shellfish you can find in the Abyssal Kingdom.”
“Then it’s highly likely that the original world already existed and the dungeon was simply layered over it.”
“That’s what I suspect as well.”
To visit such a place he would need the help of another “Ji-oh.” That would mean another synchronization, and he was certain it would leave him disoriented again, so for now he was deliberately avoiding a visit.
“Compared to those two dungeons, this Empty City feels like a world I created entirely from scratch, so I couldn’t just ignore it. Creating something like this and then abandoning it feels like failing as a parent, which is why I’ve been troubled.”
It was completely different in nature from the Breathing Sea, which he had already visited and played in, or the Kingdom of Animals, which he had yet to enter. This was such a new type of not-quite-child that he had no idea how to treat it.
“As you can see, it’s completely empty…”
“…It is, yes.”
Iser could not help but agree.
“It’s very empty.”
Even though the dense forest of the city stood so nakedly before them, the emptiness was enough to make the mind go blank.
Is this a property of the dungeon?
For beings of high rank like himself or his sister, it only left a slight hollow feeling, but if a human entered, they would be unable to endure it unless they were exceptionally strong.
…A dungeon greatly reflects its master’s mental image.
Here Iser latched onto a misunderstanding.
It must mean Teacher’s mental image is in this state.
That was not actually the case.
Dungeons did normally follow their master’s mental landscape, but the dungeons Ji-oh painted were closer to mere “paintings” than to a shared destiny. He might have painted them while fully immersed in a momentary emotion or fantasy, yet the mental image itself was never reflected.
But such a case was unheard of except with Ji-oh. All the experience Iser had gained following his sister now worked against him; he could not help but regard Ji-oh’s condition with concern.
“Is there not a single monster here?”
“As far as I can sense, none.”
“I can’t even feel the smallest living thing…”
“Because this painting depicts a city, not living creatures.”
“I see.”
As long as a dungeon’s master possessed a self, it was actually difficult to create a dungeon with no life inside it at all. Even dungeons ruled by the undead were crawling with related monsters.
…But this is far too empty.
Iser gazed at the world filled only with achromatic colors.
The towering buildings were a neat, vivid gray. Even though their entire bodies were made of transparent glass, the whole world was monochrome, so the glass was monochrome as well. The sky was veiled in thick fog, allowing only the faintest light to fall.
There were dull, right-angled buildings and buildings with the curved lines unique to bustling cities, yet even filled with such varied forms, nothing could be felt.
“…….”
That the space was harsh for humans did not concern him.
But he could not help worrying about Giovanni, the master of this world.
“…Do you like this space, Teacher?”
“It’s like my own child, so how could I not?”
“I see. I understand.”
That Ji-oh possessed such a mental landscape was something that required caution.
Even while he still considers himself human, he already possesses that level of rank. In a way, this is only natural.
Even if actual gods created a dungeon themselves, it would feel fuller than this—yet Ji-oh was not even a proper god. Exceptions were bound to arise.
Whether he created it consciously or unconsciously, according to Sister, he is a portrait that can become anything… so even this absurd emptiness was able to be born.
It worried him.
“…….”
“Iser?”
“…This may sound a little strange coming out of nowhere, but…”
Iser hesitated a moment before asking.
“Are you happy right now?”
Perhaps inevitably, the answer came at once.
“Of course.”
“Truly?”
“I never make choices that wouldn’t make me happy in the first place.”
“…I see.”
Then even on the day you died—that choice, too, must have been for your own happiness.
I already suspected as much, but it still hits hard.
Iser, who had fallen silent, forced his mouth open again.
“…So why did you come to visit this dungeon?”
“I didn’t want to become the kind of terrible parent who creates something and then never looks after it.”
“You’re probably the only one who treats a dungeon that way, Teacher.”
“Aria said a dungeon shares its fate with its master. Doesn’t that make it family?”
“So that’s what family means to you… a shared destiny.”
Iser chewed his lip for a moment, then asked,
“Then how about creating some monsters?”
“Ah, start by expanding the household?”
“…Something like that.”
Ordinarily, dungeons were born to kill humans. They arose from the intense emotion of massive hatred directed at an entire species. But Ji-oh was anything but ordinary; this dungeon held none of the hostility or killing intent that should have been fundamental.
“How you choose to cultivate this dungeon is entirely up to you, Teacher, but if you want to give it some care, increasing the residents would be best. After a god creates a world, the thing they care about most is the residents…”
At Iser’s words, Ji-oh tilted his head.
“Aren’t I a bit too problematic to be called a god?”
“Well… you’re not a traditional god, but, um, as a metaphor.”
It seemed Ji-oh was underestimating himself.
Truly no different from before.
Yet he had no desire to correct that misunderstanding. The more indifferent Ji-oh remained to his own extraordinary nature, the further his limits would recede, and the longer they—the merfolk—would be able to spend time with him.
That will also mean the period in which he considers himself human will last longer…
But that didn’t matter much either.
It’s not even wrong.
According to his sister, their teacher was a black canvas. No one knew what it might become.
“Have you thought about how you might use this place?”
“I still need to think a little more, but…”
“Yes.”
“It would be nice if the household grew. Definitely.”
Drawing family members was nothing special for Ji-oh.
“But the family I’m going to draw this time will be living separately from us.”
“Kkureureureuk?”
“I’d like a child who doesn’t feel lonely even when alone.”
The water birds Ji-oh had drawn before were creatures that lived in groups. Looking at the water-bird lake that had grown even more crowded—whether they had bred among themselves or not—one could instantly understand what “group living” meant, and Honey also quite disliked being separated from its family.
“So this time I want a friend with strong independence.”
That didn’t mean he wanted to just draw anything at random.
“I do have my pride as someone who paints, you know…”
“Kkung?”
“Calling myself a painter might be a stretch, but the Empty City is still one of my works.”
“Kkureureu.”
“I want residents that suit it.”
But residents that suit the Empty City…
“…….”
Sitting in his studio chair and thinking quietly, Ji-oh soon opened his mouth.
“…Invisible people?”
Unseen office workers.
“That fits.”
“Kkureuk?”
“Doesn’t it?”
To Ji-oh, who was a country person at heart, that was what a city was.
The air was foul and people swarmed. They all looked similar, and they thronged through subways and streets in great crowds. No emotion showed on those inorganic faces.
“I didn’t go back to Gangwon-do for my second posting for no reason. When I first came up to Seoul, it was almost eerie.”
It had been a living horror movie. For Ji-oh, who possessed a delicate sensibility despite his appearance, it had been far too bleak.
These days he could think, There go the worn-out cogs of society heading home after another exhausting day, but in his younger years he had not been able to. He had even felt genuine fear.
“But that doesn’t mean I can draw actual people…”
“Kkungkkung?”
“What do you take your dad for, son? Your dad can’t create people.”
Even so, he had no desire to become special to that degree. He would never have done it even if he could, and since he couldn’t in the first place, there was even less need to worry about that direction.
“In that sense—invisible people.”
More precisely, suit people.
“If it’s just clothes floating around…”
“Kkureu.”
“Right, that couldn’t really be called human.”
It was closer to a doll.
“…….”
Just as the people of the city had looked to him the first time he saw them.
“…Let’s see…”
Ji-oh rested his brush against the Empty City painting set before him.
“Still, having only one would feel too lonely.”
“Kkureureureu.”
“I’d like a fair number, but painting them all myself would be too much work, wouldn’t it?”
“Kkuk?”
“It’d be fun if they just appeared on their own among themselves.”
It would be extremely fun.
The scale was far too large for something meant as simple entertainment, but to Ji-oh, who had just encountered new content, the size of the project was hardly an important issue.
To be continued.