The Artist Who Paints Dungeon
Chapter 8
Gio had no thoughts.
People imagined all sorts of things because of his stiff expression, gloomy atmosphere, and overly polite speech. They thought he might have lost a loved one or have done something dangerous in the past…
It was a misunderstanding.
'What should I eat today.'
Seo Gio was just a pig potato.
“… Cheese fondue ….”
A spring breeze blew over the bed. He, who had stretched out like a sleepy cat, got up.
“Cheese fondue sounds good.”
Today's meal was fondue.
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