Chapter 14: Hot and Click

Dominico was a low-ranking receptionist at the Mage’s Guild.

Let me correct that.

He was a low-ranking receptionist.

“A p-promotion?”

“Yeah. You received a quite promising newbie, right?”

Promising newbie.

He was referring to Chloe.

“I heard she used all four major spirits with a temporary contract.”

“That’s right. I was truly astonished.”

That was the reason Chloe passed the test in a single day.

A kind of special promising talent fast-track, so to speak.

“That, combined with your time served, I pulled some strings and got you through the review.”

“Oh my! Oh my! Thank you, senior!”

“If you’re grateful, buy me a meal.”

“Yes! Anything!”

Finally!

Finally free from that d@mned customer complaint desk!

‘Senior! Goddess! Chloe! Thank you!’

Grinning from ear to ear with overwhelming joy.

Excited, Dominico grabbed a knife as soon as he got home.

Of course, he wasn’t about to internalize this elation through a stabbing spree.

It was for sculpting, his side hustle and hobby.

What to sculpt?

That was an easy question.

Chloe A. Turing.

What else could it be besides that warm, sunshine-like smile!

“Uh huh.”

Dominico’s eyes glazed over.

He seemed ready to build a Chloe worship altar.

But alas!

“This isn’t it! Noooooooooo-!!”

Crash!

Just one day into his sculpting endeavor.

Dominico thrashed the table like an ogre.

[TL Note: Ogre = a big, violent monster. Shows Dominico’s wild, angry outburst.]

It was understandable.

“Chloe’s loveliness wasn’t like this!!”

Those adorable cheeks.

Her charming features.

Her whispering, sweet voice.

Her seductively long eyelashes.

Even her cat-like gait!

Dominico failed to reproduce even one of them.

Lack of skill?

Fine. He’d admit it.

But an artist’s sensibilities could not tolerate the creation of a hideous counterfeit under the pretext of lacking skill!

“Are you feeling down lately?”

“If you can help me overcome this creative agony, I’ll take any medicine or anything….”

“Stop talking nonsense and come on. Let’s go to an exhibition.”

Even his colleague’s (female) invitation felt bland today.

Artists are such sensitive creatures.

What kind of artist was he, a mere Mage’s Guild member?

He clearly didn’t know what he was talking about.

Magic and art are as close as power and money.

Moreover, this was Yaltesance.

The city where magic bowed to art.

Could the people who stubbornly rented and lived in this city’s insane housing market be indifferent to art?

“So, whose exhibition is it?”

“His Excellency, Yaltarion.”

“What? He released a new piece? Finally?”

“No, it’s a re-exhibition.”

Oh, is that all?

Dominico was disappointed.

Yaltarion.

The Archmage who commanded the respect of all mages.

But today, Dominico was a sculptor.

It wasn’t easy to emulate a painter.

However, his disappointment was short-lived.

Dominico changed his mind.

‘Let’s go. Since I’m stuck with my work anyway.’

Who knows? He might get lucky and find some inspiration.

Though he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

That was why.

“Hey, hey, Dom! Look at this. Some kind of vote?”

A painting that wasn’t Yaltarion’s.

Standing before it, Dominico trembled as if struck by lightning.

“But why is it anonymous? Are they His Excellency’s new apprentices?”

“…Found it.”

“Huh?”

“I found it. I found it! This is it!”

Clicker and Chloe’s painting.

The caricature of the four major spirits.

Dominico shuddered at its simplified form.

“There was no need to imitate! I just needed to sculpt as it appeared before my eyes!”

It was as if his heart was pierced by realization.

It felt like old walls of prejudice were crumbling.

Chloe’s beauty was like the sun.

That’s why he was captivated.

He wanted to sculpt her exactly as she appeared.

But sculpting the sun was impossible.

Light cannot be carved with a knife.

However, if a warm lamp were to illuminate a ceiling blocking the sky, what would prevent it from substituting the sun?

Subjective distortion.

And the resulting symbolization of art!

That was the essence.

Deformation.

A free reinterpretation of creation.

The very essence that gave birth to that concept.

He couldn’t die without capturing this inspiration.

Unable to contain his impatience, Dominico exclaimed,

“Sorry, but I’m going in first!”

“What? Why so suddenly?!”

“Don’t worry about me and just enjoy yourself! Man, what would I have done without you!”

As expected, camaraderie is patriotism.

He waved his colleague’s hand vigorously, turning 180 degrees towards the exit.

“Oh, right.”

He almost forgot.

Dominico gladly repaid his newfound inspiration.

========

Title:
[I Like This]

Current Votes:
[2 votes] → [3 votes]

========

‘This is ridiculous. Why does this masterpiece only have 2 votes?’

Dominico clicked his tongue.

The unknown artist’s work was clearly a masterpiece.

Enough to inspire Dominico with an inspiration that transcended the limitations of time and talent.

‘And they don’t recognize this? Are they out of their minds?’

Those stuck-in-their-ways old fogies.

Their stubborn close-mindedness.

“Hey, hey! Dom! Dominico! Do you know how many hours I spent on my makeup today…!”

“Oh? Ah, right, thanks! See you tomorrow!”

“Aaaaagh-!! Are you seriously going to do this to meeee!!”

Anyway, that was the end of it.

Dominico went home without looking back.

However, his farewell of “see you tomorrow” turned out to be a lie.

Having taken a vacation, Dominico spent several days in his room, wielding his knife, forgetting even to eat or sleep.

Again, sculpting was Dominico’s side hustle.

As such, he was also a member of the Sculptor’s Guild.

Since he’d sculpted it, he had to sell it, right?

Therefore.

On his first day back at work after his vacation.

He proudly stopped by the Sculptor’s Guild and submitted his work.

“Please accept this! It’s the greatest masterpiece of my life!”

“What? This unfinished-looking statuette? …Wait, it’s kind of cute?”

“Right?”

A statuette modeled after Chloe.

This was the backstory of how the world’s first deformed figure was released in Yaltesance.

And.

“Saintess?”

“Sniff sniff… I smell the Saintess in this sculpture!”

Synthia worshippers starved for inspiration.

This was also the trigger that stimulated their sensitive noses.

Yaltarion’s Atelier Annex.

His personal gallery, reopened just for us.

“There it is!! The Saintess’s new work!”
“No doubt about it! That innovative touch is hers!”

I felt exactly like a zombie apocalypse survivor.

“As expected, this sculpture was inspired by the Saintess!”

“Ah, it’s you again….”

“It was worth it to wage all-out war on the Sculptor’s Guild!”

Seriously, what the h*ll is going on with these guys?

Why are they all holding those nerdy figures?

[Wow! You know about figures! That’s a 1/12 scale resin kit statue! The cat ears are cute! ✨]

What the f*ck are you talking about!

“A race with animal ears. Weren’t they the people from the Eastern Continent who coexisted with orcs?”

“Roughly correct. They don’t exactly coexist, though.”

“She looks like you.”

The last comment was from Emil.

My face scrunched up involuntarily.

Don’t be ridiculous.

I don’t remember being a model for a statuette.

The first sculpture modeled after me is a cat-eared, nerdy, pretty girl figure?

No kidding, I’m about to kill myself.

There’s no greater humiliation for a proud Korean.

Before I could even retort.

Whoosh.

Emil snatched me and dragged me to a secluded spot.

What the h*ll, why is she doing this all of a sudden?

“Gasp! Wait, this is embarrassing! I prefer older women!”

“I’m not interested in your taste in women.”

It’s not about women.

It’s not about women!!

I was fuming, but I couldn’t get angry.

Because I realized a moment too late.

Why Emil had pulled me away.

“Yaltarion! That must be Saintess Synthia’s painting, right?!”

“Did Your Excellency take in the Saintess?!”

“Please! Let us see her!”

“Oh dear, these people. Making such a fuss.”

Synthia?

That’s me.

‘Huh? Was I a Saintess?’

That’s completely unexpected.

Even though being a Saintess is a male-dominated occupation in our industry, rivalling even magical girls, me?

[Aren’t you a bit too cunning to be a Saintess? 😏✨]

Just a bit or too much, pick one.
I didn’t want to serve a constellation like you either.

[Aha! Then I’ll ‘try’ to appear more attractive!]

No. Don’t do that. Don’t try.

I take back everything I said.

I don’t know what you’re planning, but just stay still.

Her chilling words cleared my head.

That was why I was able to maintain my composure.

“Who are those people? Why are they looking for me?”

“You can see it, can’t you?”

“No, seriously, what’s going on? I’m asking because I genuinely don’t know.”

Stare.

Emil, who was observing me, relaxed her expression.

She seemed to realize I was genuinely clueless.

“There’s nothing to ask. They’re all your followers.”

“Followers? Fans?”

“What are ‘fans’?”

Ugh. These ignorant Luntraval people.

“Are all those people Chloe enthusiasts?”

“Don’t make up new words. The meaning is correct, though.”

My heuristics finally started working properly.

The reason I brought the caricature to this competition.

It was to showcase a new art technique.

A price equivalent to the disruption I caused for my survival.

It was like a deferred payment.

So, it made sense there were artists inspired by me.

It wasn’t surprising, since it was my intention.

‘Judging by the statuettes they’re holding, even sculptors who came to the exhibition seem to have been inspired.’

That definitely doesn’t mean it’s me.

It’s inductively strange.

If they don’t know I’m Synthia, why would they sculpt me based on inspiration from Synthia?

Then why the Saintess title?

It wasn’t hard to imagine the reason.

A bit of Luntraval-style thinking was needed here.

‘In this world, what inspires people is either a god or a demon.’

Wow! Demonic talent!

Synthia, a total Lucifer!

That’s a grave insult in Luntraval.
It definitely wasn’t a compliment.

Then would they praise it as a god-given talent?

That wasn’t good either.

It was too grandiose, and using it too much seemed sacrilegious.

‘So they came up with the title “Saintess,” huh.’

From a Luntraval perspective, it was sound logic.

It would have been perfect if I weren’t a guy.

“Oh.”

Thinking that far, I paused.

I turned back to Emil.

I was going to thank her for pulling me away from the Chloe enthusiasts.

Come to think of it, I had spoken informally to her without realizing.

I was so flustered, and since she was a child, it just slipped out.

“Where did she go?”

However, my opponent was the original heroine whose coolness was her forte.

Emil had disappeared as if she couldn’t care less about any of that.

She was quite charming.

If she were older, I might have fallen for her.

[Aw~ You flatter me! 😊]

She always chimes in at the most annoying times.

Can you please know when to butt in and when to stay out?

‘Anyway, this isn’t good.’

Why?

Because this wasn’t a fair competition.

‘Honestly, does Emil not have fans?’

Fandom.

The most powerful cheat key, even in music show votings.

But what about the current situation?
I’m the only one receiving support from fans.

What’s the point of voting then?

I’d be angry too if I were Emil.

What should I do?

Should I just reveal that the other piece is Emil’s?

‘Let’s not. It’ll only make things more complicated.’

An exhibition by an Archmage.

And his granddaughter’s painting is displayed there?

That would be doing Emil a disservice.

It would be like the Ninjaking’s daughter winning first place in an art contest because her dad was the village chief.

Don’t misunderstand.

I don’t want to lose to Emil on purpose.

‘A victory earned through pity votes only makes me feel sick.’

Having once dreamed of being a musician.

I know that much.

[This is a difficult problem. 😿]

‘I hate to agree with you, but I do this time.’

Actually, if this were 21st-century Earth, I wouldn’t have this worry.

Fandom.

Even this powerful force has its side effects.

The brighter the light, the darker the shadow.

The more fans you have, the more diverse the types of people.

“Move now! This is a golden opportunity!”

In other words, the side effect called “anti-fans.”

A low roar tickled my ears.

I involuntarily held my breath and pressed myself against the wall.

‘What’s that?’

Perhaps because the place Emil brought me to was secluded.

Unfamiliar men were also hiding in the same spot, raising their voices.

“B-But, Master Peggio…!”

“His Excellency has taken an interest in that girl, hasn’t he? It would be best to withdraw….”

“Shut up. Just gather the guys.”

The man grabbing the other by the collar growled.

“From now on, we’re going to rig this vote.”

Rig?

Not this crappy, h*llish peninsula again?

I was outraged by this heinous act.

I, Chloe A. Turing, a righteous warrior.

There are three evils I cannot ignore, even if it means defying heaven.

Those evils are none other than hypocrisy, disruption, and the question of whether those two mean the same thing.

Just as I, filled with righteous indignation, was about to jump out.

That hypocrite called Peggio.

That nasty-looking man snarled fiercely,

“Discredit Synthia by any means necessary! Make sure that disgusting painting never receives acclaim again!”

Huh?

Wait, you’re a righteous dude?