When the first news of the Portrait’s renewed activity was “gifts of raw meat dripping with blood,” Yoo Seongwoon went straight to Gio.
“Gio.”
“Yes. Please speak.”
“Do you happen to harbor some grievance against our company’s policies?”
“Not at all. And you have arrived at the perfect moment. Yoo Seongwoon, I will give you a gift. You will be very pleased to receive it.”
“Now you just brush things aside as easily as breathing? Did I do something wrong? What kind of warning is this? Before that, did my words even reach your ears?”
“I have become stronger.”
“It certainly seems so.”
Gio’s Portrait had adapted well to human society in the strangest areas. When the Portrait moved as though to lift something, Yoo Seongwoon hurriedly stopped it.
“Whoa, wait. Before you pick up more meat, let’s talk first.”
Yoo Seongwoon was horrified. He had no idea what he had done wrong or where matters had begun to go awry. If possible, he had to resolve the situation through conversation.
Fortunately, Gio was a Portrait capable of peaceful interaction. If Yoo Seongwoon handled this well, he might persuade him. He desperately attempted an indirect refusal.
“Unlike you, I have no talent for cooking, so I can’t make anything with meat that hasn’t been drained of blood. More importantly, I haven’t given you anything. If you give me a gift like this, how am I supposed to repay…?”
“Are you my friend, Yoo Seongwoon?”
“…Of course I am.”
“Through that alone, you have paid every price required here.”
“I’m terribly sorry, but did I enter a slave contract without knowing it? Or sign away my body? What in the world did I sacrifice to receive gifts like this for free?”
Immense fear swept over him.
“Gio, I tell…