Chapter 41
[Entrails of the Forest]
[Rank: -]
A sausage made from Wood-Horned Deer meat and medicinal herbs and fruits that grow wild along the Vein of Fate. It was personally processed by Gio, the master of the forest, allowing even the human body to accept it. This sausage provides deep satiety and is exceptionally effective at healing certain injuries and restoring immunity.
“Help.”
“Good grief, you startled me.”
“Please help me.”
“Would you stop coming to me every time you receive a gift you don’t know how to handle, Curator Yoo Seongwoon?”
“I received this one personally, so I can’t share it with anyone else.”
Bisabeol responded cheerfully to Yoo Seongwoon’s sudden arrival.
“Then why not ask whether you may share it?”
“I suppose that’s the only way after all.”
“Have you tried this gift?”
“I ate about three at home before coming.”
Yoo Seongwoon nodded.
“They were delicious.”
“Ah, hearing you say that suddenly makes me want one too.”
“Wait until I return after asking Gio.”
“Why did you bring them to me at all if you won’t let me eat one?”
“Because if anyone else saw them, it would obviously put me in a difficult position.”
“Ah, I’m your safe….”
Bisabeol smiled bitterly.
“Our employees really are far too cynical.”
“Haven’t you said you were the one who gathered all of them?”
“Even so, who ordinarily uses their Guild Master as a safe? None of them treasure me nearly enough.”
“Who created this atmosphere in the first place? It’s a little late to complain.”
“So what are the effects?”
“You’re changing the subject.”
After a moment’s thought, Yoo Seongwoon rubbed the back of his neck.
“It says they’re exceptionally effective at healing injuries and restoring immunity, but I haven’t suffered any such injury, so I haven’t seen those effects. However….”
“However?”
“My vision does feel a little clearer.”
“Your vision is clearer?”
Even after the world became what it was, medical technology related to eyesight had progressed slowly. Worn and damaged optic nerves only became less capable of recovery as time passed. In that sense, the effect Yoo Seongwoon described sounded quite intriguing.
“Are you certain of the effect?”
“That’s how it feels to me. If someone else eats one as well, we’ll have a comparison group and can analyze the effects in greater detail.”
“Then you’ll have to obtain Gio’s permission first. You should have asked him when you received the gift. Gio doesn’t seem like the sort to refuse you outright.”
“Not only should you avoid making assumptions like that about a being of the Source, but I had just pulled an all-nighter and was hardly in my right mind. I went to give him some bungeoppang after I happened to see it. How was I supposed to know I would receive a gift like this?”
“If you’re that tired, why not eat some of the cookies you received last time?”
“I finished those long ago.”
Yoo Seongwoon had once again become a slave to caffeine.
“What did the other employees think of the fruit cheong you received before… though it hardly looks like fruit cheong at all?”
“The response was excellent. They also looked confused. First of all, the greatest merit of Honey from the Vein—‘restoring a human’s physical capabilities to their limits’—was….”
“Even if they didn’t see the description, they would have felt something in their bodies and become suspicious.”
Bisabeol smiled and asked,
“Would you like a cup of fruit tea before you go?”
“…Please.”
Yoo Seongwoon, who was on the verge of dying from overwork, needed the recovery.
After drinking the fruit tea, rich with a soup-like savoriness, Yoo Seongwoon let out a quiet sigh. It truly was delicious, but consuming something so extraordinary merely to recover from fatigue filled him with an inexplicable sense of futility.
“It would be a tremendous help in a dungeon. I think it could even have a meaningful effect on changes in mortality rates.”
“That’s true.”
“But if we actually took it into one, it would cause an even greater commotion.”
“That’s also true.”
“…Even a being of the Source being too benevolent can become a problem.”
It was a new realization.
“So the employees weren’t suspicious? They must have felt that something was strange.”
“Everyone was curious about the origin of the fruit cheong, but no one asked me about it again. I told them I had bought it at an auction, but most of them clearly found that explanation insufficient.”
“What did you tell them, then?”
“What was I supposed to tell them? No one asked, so I said nothing. Our employees truly hate getting involved in complicated matters.”
“No office worker enjoys overtime.”
“They’re all so coldhearted.”
Bisabeol spoke while drinking his own fruit tea.
“Still, it seems few of them guessed that it was a ‘Fragment of a Work.’”
‘Fragment of a Work’ was a kind of idiom used within the Collectors. It referred to an object, blessing, or curse that a Work confined within Bisabeol’s Gallery gave to its Curator.
“Almost no one would imagine that a Work might give food as a gift….”
“So that is the case after all.”
Quite a few of the Works gathered in Bisabeol’s Gallery possessed a sense of self. Depending on how sophisticated that consciousness was, a high-level Curator would be assigned exclusively to the Work, and the Curator would manage it while carefully tending to the bond between them.
Thus, very, very occasionally—and as an extraordinary exception—a Curator would receive such a ‘Fragment.’
“Usually, they give objects.”
“Food is an object too, in a sense.”
“I mean things like jewelry, paintings, or weapons.”
“Yes, in most cases.”
There could hardly be another Work like Gio that had developed a passion for cooking.
“Is cooking Gio’s only hobby?”
“No. As I’ve told you before, he also enjoys painting.”
“And those paintings become passages or living creatures.”
“Correct.”
“Then what would happen if he painted a landscape?”
“……”
Yoo Seongwoon’s face crumpled like crushed foil.
“I’m resting right now. Please don’t make me anxious.”
“It wasn’t anything particularly serious.”
“I had already vaguely suspected the possibility, but I don’t want to think about it now.”
“How pitiful….”
“When your superior calls you pitiful, how is that anything but mockery?”
Bisabeol smiled and nodded at the sight of his subordinate, steeped in exhaustion.
“I’m merely curious. Gio can create anything through painting, so I simply became interested in what would happen if he painted a landscape.”
“He might even be able to create another world.”
“Like a dungeon?”
“……”
“How magnificent.”
Bisabeol stroked his chin as he spoke.
“According to quite a few night guards who witnessed it, Gio said he travels through a certain landscape painting.”
“That differs somewhat from what I heard. A landscape painting rather than a portrait?”
“When Gio is inside it, it’s a portrait. When he comes out, it becomes a landscape painting. Doesn’t that sound convenient?”
“That’s truly bewildering….”
“They say the Work hanging in the corridor disappears around sunrise, so it certainly appears usable for travel.”
“But hadn’t we already surmised that?”
“What makes me curious is this: if he can use paintings to travel to places that already exist….”
Then,
“Could Gio travel to other dungeons as well?”
“……”
“I wonder.”
“That….”
Yoo Seongwoon frowned.
“That sounds like a somewhat dangerous idea.”
“Did it?”
“I don’t know exactly what you have seen in Gio, Guild Master, but from my perspective as someone with rather poor eyesight, it does.”
“Gio has already toured the outside world under Curator Yoo Seongwoon’s guidance.”
“I agreed to that, yes, but what you’re suggesting now is that we expand Gio’s range of activity.”
It made him uneasy.
“As for why I show Gio more goodwill than I would an ordinary Work… Of course, I have no excuse. But this is the nature of Gardeners. It’s something engraved upon our souls.”
That was simply what Gardeners were.
They did not perceive threats as threats, nor could they consider cruelty cruel. To those who cultivated Gardens, beings of the Source were things to be cared for.
“I said this when I accepted your proposal and signed my employment contract, and I have repeated it countless times since: Gardeners are not on humanity’s side.”
They had been born human and had cultivated Gardens, so they wished for both to coexist. It was inevitable that Yoo Seongwoon would become enchanted by Gio, who appeared to exist extraordinarily close to the Source.
One could not survive as a Gardener without being obsessed with the Source. It was an ancient predilection that could not—and must not—change.
“But you are wholly human, Guild Master. If I fail to be thorough as a Curator, you need to point it out and correct me.”
“……”
“You allow your Works far too… much, Guild Master. Surely it isn’t strange for that to worry me.”
Bisabeol smiled.
“Wasn’t the same principle what allowed you to use me as a safe, Mr. Yoo Seongwoon?”
“…I know I’m in no position to criticize you after benefiting from your favoritism in all sorts of ways.”
Every guild member of the Collectors was part of Bisabeol’s collection.
Both his displays of weakness, pathetic enough to seem absurd, and the excessive goodwill he offered sprang from Bisabeol’s irrational desire to collect. Bisabeol loved every item in his collection.
“Even so, I believe using the world as a testing ground for your Works will bring severe repercussions later.”
“Repercussions?”
“Whenever an irregular Work like Gio appears, you always behave this way.”
“And how do I behave?”
“As though it doesn’t matter how the world breaks or how many people die, so long as you can understand and appreciate your Work.”
“You’ve observed me well.”
Bisabeol nodded.
“That’s why I hired Curators to manage them for me while I remain busy appreciating them.”
“……”
It was a damned irresponsible thing to say, but it was not entirely wrong. Yoo Seongwoon sighed.
“If even I, a Gardener, am taking humanity’s side, then this is truly serious.”
“I believed I was showing a degree of restraint, but if you go so far as to say that, perhaps I have been excessive.”
Bisabeol’s eyes curved sharply.
“But aren’t you curious?”
They were the eyes of a man with no intention of hiding even the slightest trace of his desire.
“I’m curious about what my Work truly is. I desperately want to know how diligent a young man Gio is, whether he can kill people, and if he does, how many he will kill and by what means.”
“……”
“Gio is a painter. He is also a Portrait. He dislikes friction. He understands himself to be a twenty-nine-year-old man. How will he mingle among people? How will he react to an unpleasant experience? I want to know how he will change when he realizes he is a Work.”
“……”
“To be honest, I don’t care what happens to the world because of Gio. It would anger me if stupid people damaged my Work, but I’m not afraid of Works fighting one another, becoming wounded, and burning away.”
That was Bisabeol’s honest desire.
“Have you ever heard that the higher one’s rank rises, the farther one departs from humanity?”
“…It’s a famous saying. Stories about how inhuman S-rank Hunters are have always been popular.”
“It is terribly embarrassing to say this with such unimpressive physical abilities, but I would like you to remember that I too am S-rank.”
He was close to inhuman.
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“I wish this world were beautiful and serene enough for me to cherish. Don’t you?”
“……”
Having been subjected to such absurdity to his face, Yoo Seongwoon’s expression twisted with exhaustion.
“…Ordinary people don’t consider the possibility of mass slaughter merely because the world isn’t especially beautiful or serene, Guild Master….”
“That’s because their view of the world is too narrow. To put it more bluntly, if my Work destroys the world, then it was simply an event destined to happen anyway.”
“The Association President should have heard you say that. Isn’t Bisabeol’s Gallery the one place the Association, with its strict regulations on dangerous objects, trusts enough to leave them?”
“I know you said that deliberately, but that person doesn’t actually trust me either. The Association President simply lacks the time and resources to manage everything personally, and I happen to be the only lesser evil willing to take in the dangerous Works that grow more numerous by the day.”
Because he shouldered half the work of the government and the Association, Bisabeol had gained autonomy for the Gallery on that basis alone.
“Thus, it is no different from the Association President not trusting me. That person merely needed a space and personnel that would provide a consistent minimum of management.”
“…It’s remarkable that the Association hasn’t taken the Works from you despite such distrust. When I remember my time as one of their researchers, the Association certainly coveted your Gallery….”
“That’s why timing is everything in life. If I had opened this Gallery just ten years later, do you think the Association would have indulged me to this extent?”
Bisabeol’s face brightened as though he had heard an entertaining comedy routine.
“Bisabeol’s Gallery is very famous in the present world. It has far more spectacle, is more stimulating, and is more readily exposed to the public than the Association, where everything is handled quietly through research, analysis, and control.”
“……”
“What I manage is even a Gallery. Customers can visit, and those customers can purchase Works. The Association cannot suppress this historic Gallery while I have patrons who support me.”
Bisabeol’s face dramatically filled with sorrow.
“Ah, truly… Tears obscure my vision whenever I imagine the Works trapped inside the Association. What cruel treatment must they be enduring merely to survive?”
“…Well….”
“And when I consider the humiliation and suffering my precious, delicate Works would endure at an Association laboratory, I could never surrender them. A Work contains a soul.”
“Ah, yes….”
To Yoo Seongwoon, once the Association’s Research Team Leader, it was enough to drive him mad. But he now worked under Bisabeol while enjoying the conveniences he provided, so he decided to let it pass.
“So you have no intention of restraining yourself?”
“I already exercise ample restraint. I have no idea what more you expect me to restrain.”
“This is the Demon King’s castle.”
There was no telling what kind of catastrophe would occur if a single incident erupted.
“When something finally goes wrong, it will go spectacularly wrong. You know that, don’t you?”
“That’s why I include hazard pay for the Curators.”
“That wasn’t what I was asking. Korea could be erased from the map.”
“That would be truly frightening. I trust our Curators will take care of matters before it happens.”
“What an irresponsible Director. I wish you possessed some awareness that this is your Gallery.”
Bisabeol’s Gallery was more stimulating and open than the Association’s laboratories, but it was correspondingly less safe.
‘If those dangerous and sensitive Works are to be managed safely in the first place… they would require somewhat stronger controls.’
This place housed vast quantities under only the barest minimum of control. Its approach was the exact opposite of the Association laboratories.
Bisabeol loved his Works and managed them with love. One of the fundamental requirements he imposed upon the Curators here was to ‘build a strong bond with the Work.’
“……”
As expected, the present Earth was being maintained in an exceedingly precarious state.
‘I suppose it can’t be helped when every system once collapsed and is only now being rebuilt….’
Every situation on Earth was governed solely by the mercy of its small number of powerful individuals.
‘If even one of them went astray, it would become a true catastrophe. Fortunately, nothing so disastrous has occurred yet.’
It was remarkable that the world had endured.
“…We’ll work harder. On matters involving Gio as well.”
“In that spirit, have you considered helping Gio make a new friend? He must be lonely by himself.”
“You no longer even intend to dress it up as a greater cause? You clearly let everything I just said pass in one ear and out the other.”
At this point, perhaps it was fate that Gio had been won by Bisabeol rather than the Association President.
“……”
Well, then again,
Yoo Seongwoon himself was rather ridiculous for welcoming Bisabeol’s Work-friendly opinion now that he was a Gardener.
He nodded.
“I’ll ask him.”
He had intended to speak with Gio at dawn anyway.
Adding one question would probably be fine.
Meanwhile, Gio….
“I made a few.”
“Kkung?”
A few?
“Yes, it is a little much.”
“Kkung?”
A little?
“Yes, Dad got carried away. I was so excited that even I couldn’t control myself.”
“Kkuruk.”
“I shall reflect upon my actions.”
He had given Yoo Seongwoon roughly five kilograms of sausage, yet five kilograms still remained.
“I dried them in the sun once, so they won’t rot if I keep them in the ice storage, but….”
“Kkururu?”
“As I said, I became too excited. I’ve also neglected the waterfowl nests recently, so I wanted to give them a gift. The idea was that we should share with everyone rather than eat it all ourselves.”
“Kkurururururururuk.”
“I knew you would approve.”
The heap of grilled sausages was so abundant that it resembled a small hill.
It was still smaller than the total number of waterfowl living in the forest, but what did a difference in perspective matter? It did not change the fact that the quantity was excessive.
Yet Gio remained resolute.
“Try this one first. I thought you wouldn’t like spicy food, so I made this one mild.”
He was exhilarated. Making sausage himself from ordinary ingredients would already have been enjoyable, but had he not made this food with fantasy ingredients?
“This sausage contains Aroom, Raven Walnut, and vinegar. I ground in a little Milky Way Mary too. To be honest, it’s much too mild for my palate… but I thought you would like it.”
“Kkururuk.”
“That absolutely did not mean I wouldn’t eat it.”
For the first time in a while, Gio set a table outside the cabin and finished preparing their meal.
The table was laden with rice freshly cooked in a cauldron, Baibameunil that had been detoxified and seasoned like namul, and piping-hot homemade sausages roasted almost as if fried in the oven until they brimmed with juices.
“I’ll grill some and take them to the waterfowl nests later. I set the table so we could taste them first, so let’s eat slowly and visit the nests afterward. Do you agree, Son?”
“Kkurururuk.”
“As expected, you truly are my son.”
Seo Gio put an entire long sausage into his mouth without cutting it and nodded inwardly.
‘…Someone like me who enjoys bold flavors might find it a little bland. Honestly, it is somewhat plain, but the seasoning is balanced, so it goes well with rice.’
Perhaps because the sausage, briefly dried in the sun, had been grilled once, its exterior was extremely crisp.
At the same time, the casing he had made from intestines prepared by hand was somehow nutty and chewy, yet still tender enough to offer no resistance to his teeth. It possessed a texture in which crispness, chewiness, and tenderness coexisted.
“Mm….”
Snap!
“Ah, hot.”
Juices overflowed from the filling within.
The scent of wood gently seeped across the roof of his mouth. Fresh from an oven where firewood had blazed, the sausage was hot enough to sting, and the sweet yet somehow viscous juices sealed tightly inside the casing drenched his mouth.
Warm.
“……”
And delicious.
‘…It may be mild, but its aroma is excellent.’
He had reduced the salt as much as possible to draw out the inherent flavor of the meat, then added varied and complex aromas to enhance their compatibility with it to the fullest. The present sausage was the result.
The combination of the deer meat’s subtle nuttiness with Raven Walnut unified the sausage’s flavor.
And hidden deep beneath it was Aroom’s sharp aroma, while the Candy-Trap Tree fruit vinegar above it asserted itself gently yet distinctly.
‘Now that I’m eating it, this is better than I expected. I thought it would be far too plain.’
The vinegar’s faint bitterness also paired well with the dense smoky aroma of the campfire wood used to grill the sausage.
Both the sausage and the cooking method were excellent.
“The vinegar was an especially good addition.”
“Kkuk?”
“Perhaps because it’s fruit vinegar that fermented naturally? It has a subtle sweetness, and this sourness and bitterness cut through the richness without being sharply acidic… They complement it perfectly.”
Next came the sausage Gio had made exclusively for himself.
Snap!
“……”
The red sausage stimulated his taste buds the instant he ate it.
‘My mouth is burning.’
The heat seemed to wrap stickily around his tongue.
‘The aftertaste doesn’t linger very long. It’s an exceptionally smooth, clean heat.’
The sausage he had made for himself contained every ingredient he had found this time.
Milky Way Mary, with a clean aroma like chili pepper and black pepper combined, and Weeping Vine, which produced fierce heat along with a mysterious, weighty sweetness.
Ginger-scented Aroom gathered the miscellaneous aromas scattered in every direction into one, while Raven Walnut lightly covered them with a mild, gentle depth.
Finally, Candy-Trap Tree Vinegar added bursts of sourness throughout, creating variation in the flavor….
“……”
Had he gone a little too far?
“Still, it tastes good.”
“Kkung.”
“You don’t have to avoid it. You could try a bite.”
“Kkungkkungkkung….”
“It can’t be helped if you don’t want any.”
Whatever Honey thought as he avoided the spicy-smelling sausage, it suited Gio’s palate perfectly. The emptiness that had lingered in his stomach finally seemed to ease.
It was the feeling of downing a whole bowl of samgyetang or sinking into a boiling-hot bath, of heading straight to a jjimjilbang with a cup of sikhye, sweating profusely while sucking half-frozen sikhye through a straw. The fullness of having precisely what had been missing restored.
“Excellent.”
Happiness was not far away.
‘I was worried because these were unfamiliar ingredients, but it turned out even better than expected.’
He had designed the sausage around spiciness, but overall, its subtle sweetness and the fat coating all the meat made the heat exceptionally clean.
With spicy food, clean heat alone meant more than ninety percent success.
“Learning to trust my instincts in the kitchen has paid off. This is when Grandmother’s touch proves useful.”
“Kkungkkungkkungkkungkkung….”
“Dad didn’t make it badly. Our palates simply differ a little.”
To Gio, this degree of heat was utterly delicious.
Seo Gio, a true connoisseur, even enjoyed chicken feet. When ordinary spicy chicken feet became painfully hot, he dipped them in seasoned oil or drank something sweet alongside them.
Then he could eat with the composure of an intellectual. The sausage he had made this time followed the same principle.
‘The flavor and aroma are spicy and pungent overall, but Weeping Vine already had a subtle sweetness beneath it. Raven Walnut also has the gentle sweetness characteristic of nuts. And that says nothing of vinegar naturally produced by the Candy-Trap Tree, which supposedly bears tremendously sweet fruit….’
Whenever the spices seemed too intense, the gentler aromas subdued them. Whenever the heat seemed excessive, the generous amount of deer fat washed the pain from his tongue like silk.
Whenever that fat seemed too rich, the vinegar asserted its presence with sharp sourness and soothed his churning stomach.
The overall balance was excellent.
‘Aroom also plays a major role, binding flavors and aromas entangled so intricately that they almost seem excessive into one cohesive whole. It works far better than I expected.’
Even while food remained in his mouth, Gio began devising a new dish.
“When I make something with all sorts of miscellaneous ingredients, adding Aroom should raise the quality dramatically.”
“Kkung…?”
“I’ll make it less spicy next time. You seem to dislike spicy aromas.”
Aroom had gathered every spice that leaped in a different direction to flaunt its individuality into a single place. Its binding effect was so powerful that, even while experiencing such complex flavors, he did not find them burdensome in the slightest.
‘Besides, I paid attention to the texture of these sausages too.’
Gio nodded.
“They have a satisfying bite, don’t they?”
“Kkururuk.”
“Right, they’re delicious. Varying the size of the meat pieces definitely makes the texture much more diverse. I should think about what texture I want the next time I make them too.”
“Kkukkuk….”
“I think this every time, but it’s wonderful that mold doesn’t grow in this forest.”
Otherwise, he could never have dreamed of attempting this project.
‘I used actual intestines with a high moisture content for the casings too… It would have been fortunate if they merely avoided rotting while I worked.’
When the meat pieces differed in size, air pockets formed inside the casing, and those gaps increased the chance of mold. At least, every sausage Gio had made until now had undergone that process.
‘What weak-willed things.’
If they were true pork, should they not endure a little mold through sheer fighting spirit?
“Hmm.”
In any case, thanks to the forest, even the texture of these sausages was excellent.
The meat he had already mashed into a porridge-like softness touched a corner of his mouth and delighted his tongue before he could even chew, while the uneven pieces of meat offered cheerful resilience and bounced pleasantly between his teeth.
‘The juices are flowing freely… and the intestinal casing’s texture is even better than I imagined.’
Perhaps because the intestine had been so plump, it felt like chewing a thin piece of gopchang.
The intestines he had prepared in advance had no unpleasant odor whatsoever, while retaining the chewiness and nuttiness unique to organ meat.
Moreover, roasting them in the oven had made the outer casing as crisp as a cracker while the inside remained viscous. He could even taste the faint bitterness characteristic of nuts.
“……”
Gio murmured,
“I think this is good.”
He wanted to live this way forever.
Peacefully.
(To be continued)