A chilly night is dangerous.
For example, the outdoor terrace at a convenience store.
When you sit there late at night, when the streets are nearly empty, you end up talking about all sorts of things with your friends.
If there’s a can of beer, that’s even better, and even minors who’ve been studying late for exams gather to have a late-night snack, making the conversations unusually lively.
That’s why it’s dangerous. Time flies by, and without realizing it, you end up spilling secrets you never intended to share.
Sejin knew that feeling well. Back in school, when he was forced by his parents’ nagging to go to the study room despite wanting to draw, he’d sit on those plastic chairs at the convenience store with friends and talk all night before pretending to have studied and going home.
He often looked back on that moment when times were tough. Because for others, the grueling exam periods were hellish, but for him, those were happy memories.
Even after becoming an adult, he had many such experiences.
To celebrate becoming adults, he’d go to bars with friends, talk about university and the future, and once drunk, share simple beers in a nearby park or convenience store, where more serious conversations would begin.
You know, the usual worries or trivial stories—like wanting to have a girlfriend, those serious talks.
Sejin was feeling that same vibe in this pavilion.
Considering tomorrow’s journey, he should sleep early, but he didn’t feel like sleeping. Instead, he wanted to keep talking with Jinwoo, who was sitting right there.
Jinwoo’s story, in his mid-twenties, was quite painful. Just like sitting on plastic chairs at a convenience store, Jinwoo shared his own stories, things he hadn’t told just anyone, right here in the pavilion.
Jinwoo had warned Sejin that he was a bit uncomfortable broadcasting his story through the camera, and respecting that, Sejin turned off the camera.
“Jinwoo hyung, so?”
Now that he knew his name, Sejin asked him to continue.
“I was an orphan and just worked my ass off as a Hunter. I don’t have memories with a family like others do, and in school, I barely had any close friends except a few. Even those relationships faded after I became busy as an adult… So I thought, once I pay off my debts, I’ll live cool, make friends, maybe even date. That’s what I thought.”
“… Yeah.”
Damn it all.
Jinwoo lamented how he ended up telling things he never wanted to. The beer was the problem. Not being good at drinking, he got carried away by the atmosphere and drank beer. He had been tricked by the detox and fatigue relief effects of golden garlic, but it still took a long time for the alcohol buzz to wear off.
Originally, he didn’t want to burden Sejin with dark stories, but starting from being an orphan, he gradually realized the risk.
‘Alright, gotta cut out the terminal illness story.’
Jinwoo decided that and took another sip of beer before eating ramen boiled in gamjatang broth. The slightly bitter taste followed by salty soup made him feel completely at ease.
(Anonymous 1): Why is this conversation so fun? Even knowing all about Jinwoo, it’s still entertaining lol.
(God of Rain and Sunshine): It’s fun because it’s sad.
(Chungha’s Receiver): Descendant, a piece of advice. Skip the terminal illness story. Memories have a strong power. That human named Sejin will think of the descendant whenever he sees the pavilion at night or eats gamjatang. Isn’t it too cruel for such happy memories to turn sad?
The usually frivolous Stars in the chat were surprisingly serious this time. Seeing these earnest Stars was fascinating, a fresh perspective.
Jinwoo glanced once at the system window with that respect and said,
“Pay off all my debts… then travel with my daughter, who came out of nowhere, and spirits. I wanted to open a restaurant, but right now, this feels better.”
“That’s a relief. It’s comforting that the ending is good.”
“Haha, really?”
“Yes, I… found studying boring, and doodling in textbooks was the only thing I liked. I was advised to go to college and even tried entrance exam art, but it wasn’t the kind of art I wanted.”
So he gave up studying altogether—or more precisely, he pretended to study while drawing his own pictures in the study room.
“I got a lot of criticism around me, called a kid without vision or a future just drawing. Well, since I hadn’t achieved anything then, it was true. But it made me stubborn.”
He felt a desire to accomplish something and brag to people around him.
“So, to get my parents’ approval, I left home recklessly as a kid. I wanted to show that I was serious about art, so I traveled across the country without money, drawing my own pictures and promoting them on SNS.”
Once he started talking about a genre he loved, Sejin said everything he wanted to say comfortably. Because he wanted everyone to know his aspirations, he recorded himself briefly on camera while speaking.
“Can I see some of your art? That’s cool.”
Jinwoo genuinely complimented Sejin. Some might find it cheesy, but isn’t that the very sentiment of early dawn?
And in modern society, Jinwoo thought, such cheesiness is necessary.
‘Because sentimental people disappeared thanks to the word “cheesy.”’
There are many words like that which cause serious people, those who want to take responsibility for their work, to vanish. Jinwoo hated that.
In that sense, Jinwoo could sincerely understand Sejin’s sensibility.
“These are my drawings.”
After slurping a mouthful of ramen, Sejin spoke. After having a beer, he showed Jinwoo his art.
They were freeform drawings, not limited by theme. Among the many pieces Sejin showed, one stood out: a painting of a village viewed from a mountaintop.
So detailed it looked like a photo. It was hard to believe it was done only with paint and colored pencils.
“… That’s amazing.”
(Anonymous 1): This is seriously sick.
(God of Rain and Sunshine): The depiction of sunshine is excellent.
(Chungha’s Receiver): The river flowing there looks real. Before becoming a Star, I used to see painters who drew like this sometimes.
The mansion with detailed red bricks, the small house and shed beside it, the river reflecting sunlight and sunshine—everything was finely rendered.
“I wanted to give my drawings some meaning, so I placed many children and made the sky a bit unique.”
He depicted rain falling from the sky.
He captured the brief moment before the rain hits the ground. The children in the picture are even pointing to the sky, saying it looks like the rain is falling from there.
“… You really draw well. It’s beautiful.”
“Haha, thank you. This is what I’m drawing.”
“Awesome.”
“Hyung, would you like to have this drawing?”
“What? Really?”
Jinwoo thought Sejin was just asking out of politeness. It was such a good drawing that he hesitated to give it away.
If someone asked out of politeness, he should politely refuse. But the picture was so appealing that refusal was difficult.
Artwork like drawings or photos are sometimes called luxury goods, but if you know how to enjoy them, there’s nothing better. Looking quietly at art calms the mind tired from various media.
It’s similar to why watch enthusiasts prefer analog watches over vibrating digital ones. Watching a painting or the second hand on an analog clock isn’t disturbed by electromagnetic waves.
It lets your brain and body rest fully while passing the time.
“I’m not just saying that out of politeness. I really want to give it to you. Paintings can be redone, and painters sell their works anyway. I’m selling my paintings with the gamjatang.”
(Anonymous 1): Hahaha, yeah! Jinwoo never gives anything for free! Gotta squeeze something out!
(God of Rain and Sunshine): Anonymous 1 sure calculates profits and losses hard.
(Father of Crops): That’s a typical Hanam guy, always calculating. But if you buy my crops, you’re not a Hanam guy.
(Endless Waiting): You all are childish.
(Chungha’s Receiver): There are only two times Stars aren’t childish: when they just became Stars or when they have to be serious.
(Endless Waiting): … I don’t want to get old.
Jinwoo accepted Sejin’s drawing.
[Mission Cleared!]
[Reward: 100 Coins have been credited!]
“Thanks. I’ll laminate this and hang it inside the campervan.”
He vowed to look at it whenever he was tired to gain strength. Jinwoo sincerely expressed his gratitude, and Sejin felt genuine joy.
That’s why he gave it. Because Jinwoo was someone who knew how to say thank you properly.
He had treated Sejin, who was younger, to a meal without expecting anything in return, and he was so happy over one drawing that Sejin felt comfortable giving it.
“I’m glad someone cherishes my drawing like this.”
A bright smile bloomed on Sejin’s face, which had been full of fatigue all day.
Today, once again, Sejin found the reason he painted.
“When I was young, seeing my friends cherish my drawings made me dream of becoming a painter. Thanks to you, I have a new motivation to draw hard again. Thank you.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you.”
Jinwoo went inside the campervan and packed things Sejin might eat: jerky, bread, soy milk, and so on into a bag. Inside the very bottom of the bag, he placed some cash with a note attached.
[Use this money for your paintings if you succeed in the national trek. Don’t feel burdened. Just think of it as me sponsoring a future painter.]
After writing the note, he handed the bag to Sejin.
“Good night.”
“Thank you. There’s bread in this bag, right? I’ll eat it well!”
“Yeah, definitely succeed.”
“I think I’ll leave early in the morning.”
“Just in case, I guess we have to say goodbye now.”
Sejin’s shadow was as endlessly vast as his potential.