The Artist Who Paints Dungeon
Chapter 9
Late evening.
Top floor of the cabin, attic. Soft lighting. Scent of the passing forest. A black wooden desk set in front of a round window.
Gio was there, organizing the rules he had discovered.
“So …”
Gio continued speaking.
“It can be said to be 1:1.”
Gio could do anything within this painting.
He hadn’t really tried ‘everything,’ but he felt like he could. In a world where he could even create warm corpses, there seemed to be nothing impossible for Gio.
‘But when reality gets involved, the story changes.’
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