What the hell was going on here?
I definitely couldn't use magic power when I tested it before.
But suddenly today, I could cast spells?
My mind grew incredibly tangled in this baffling situation.
"Hmm, looks like that caught you off guard a bit."
"Th-that..."
"To be honest, I'd love to teach you how to use magic too, but your master would lose it for real if I did. Our cute little disciple would feel the same way."
"When did I ever get cute?"
Oh, and tell your master it's a little product of jealousy.
Someone who can draw like this... and they took on a promising gem like you as a disciple? I'm honestly envious.
His words hit me like a sledgehammer to the back of the head.
Someone who can draw like this is my master?
Wasn't the info on the artwork submission supposed to be confidential?
"Your master is that artist Siu, right? You can tell just by looking around."
"Pardon?"
"Why else would they bring you all the way here just to show you that painting? And from the staff handling registrations, no less? It's way too obvious."
"Yeah, I guess it is..."
It really was glaringly obvious.
Of course, in reality, I wasn't the disciple of the painter 'Siu'—I was Siu.
But he'd probably already pegged Siu as some skilled archmage, so a magicless nobody like me could only be the disciple.
"Anyway, I let you in on something you didn't know. How about sharing some things we don't know?"
"Huh?"
"About the painting your master made. Heh, nothing beats hearing it straight from the closest person. You must've helped with the painting to some degree and heard plenty of stories from your master, right?"
"W-well..."
If I were the actual artist, it'd be embarrassing as hell to get that kind of praise from someone like you—I probably couldn't even respond properly.
I thought that, but obviously, I couldn't say it out loud.
This is driving me insane.
"Don't you think it's a great piece too? Even setting aside those signature big eyes that define its identity... the natural yet exaggerated rendering of the armpits and veins..."
"Oh, definitely."
I nodded without thinking. He'd nailed the details I'd poured my heart into, and the praise felt amazing.
Sure, it felt like I was getting roped in, but who wouldn't feel good hearing compliments on their own work?
Especially when they hit exactly the points you aimed for?
How could I keep from grinning ear to ear?
"And the subtle color difference between the water droplets and sweat—feels intentional. I love how they blend at the navel. Looks like you used different additives instead of paints to differentiate the shades; they're distinct yet true to their nature."
"M-my master would love hearing that. They put a ton of effort into it."
True to his experience, he could tell from the result alone whether it was subtle color shifts via additives or slight paint ratio tweaks.
I'd used a glossy additive for that sparkling water-droplet shine.
For the sweat, I'd upped the additive a touch to make it murkier but still shiny.
I'd been thrilled with how beautifully they merged.
"It feels like it's saying those techniques don't have to shine through clothes—they can maximize the beauty of nudity... It's a painting full of deeply moving parts."
"I-is that so?"
I'd never thought that far.
I just wanted to draw a nude that matched my tastes, so I'd gone full-throttle with a genuine lewd pic for my debut.
I also wanted to test if posting something that explicit would be okay publicly.
Sure, I knew theoretically that in this world, lewd art wasn't seen as harmful, so there shouldn't be issues.
But theory and practice are different—you have to try it.
Having been burned by that stuff in my past life, checking it first was only natural.
Not only did it work, but I got praise I never expected. My mind was reeling.
And I'd never loaded it with that kind of grand meaning!
I'd just maxed out the elements that turned me on!
"Oh, mind if I ask something too?"
Professor Rondo had been holding back earlier, but hearing my responses must've broken her restraint. She started firing questions at me.
And the topics were...
"About the armpits and the female genitalia here. Humans normally have hair there, but it's rendered smooth like an elf's. Any idea what meaning's behind that?"
"Uh, well... My master never mentioned anything like that."
An elf professor who looked young despite her age was asking me so seriously about that?
Cold sweat or not, a chill ran down my spine like something was dripping.
What the—is she a genius or something?
"It seems like it's conveying something profound that my knowledge can't grasp. It's been frustrating. Sorry about that."
"N-no, it's fine."
Why do you think there's something profound there?
I just personally don't like hair in those areas.
Plus, in the character's original work, the main folks don't have it there.
These people keep reading meaning into the pettiest reasons.
'Sigh...'
At least it was bearable because, regardless of age, looks, gender, or race, I could tell they genuinely loved art.
Their passion was so intense it brought out that raw, 'real' enthusiast vibe unique to their kind?
It felt oddly familiar.
"Oh, I got so caught up in my curiosities I almost forgot the biggest one. Do you know why this piece is called White Flower on Water?"
"Oh, you two were arguing about that when I arrived, right?"
"Yeah, we were dying to know. Why White Flower on Water?"
Telling them it's just the girl's name from the original would crush their pure hearts...
I had no choice but to dredge up every scrap of idea I'd had when naming her Su Baek Hwa and explain.
They'd told me I could use magic power, after all—this was the least I could do.
"First off, 'Su' refers to the girl herself. It's always symbolized a girl close to water. The lake embodies that trait."
"Ho, I thought the lake just meant hardship or the world. But it represents the girl herself..."
"She's depicted as the lake because she's trapped there like its water—isolated."
But this water-like girl wants to escape her isolation.
So she becomes fire that can burn despite being water, expressed as 'white flower'—that ashen blaze.
Yet even burning, she can't fully shed her lake form, leading to despair.
"That's the girl's heart laid bare. Your master agonized over similar names but picked White Flower on Water to add a double meaning: the process is as beautiful as a flower blooming."
"Haha, so we were both right?"
"Burning as fire to escape her lake form... Nice."
I'd pulled in every bit of lore I could to explain.
Thankfully, they seemed satisfied.
It might've fueled misconceptions, but nothing contradicted the story, so it should be fine.
"Thanks for today."
After parting with them, I left the gallery utterly drained.
Yet despite the exhaustion, my body felt strangely light—a bizarre sensation.
Probably because my art had resonated so deeply. That joy was overwhelming.
"...And now I can use magic power too."
Meaning I could wield all those magic-powered tools.
For future paintings, no more limiting myself like last time—I could use everything. An artist couldn't ask for more.
How many good things happened today?
"I'll buy it all. Stock up on what I was missing too."
The painting would be on display for months anyway, so they'd told me to visit leisurely.
I returned to the villa in high spirits.
Grinning at the thought of painting with new tools, I opened the door.
And just like that, I froze at the shocking sight, my face hardening.
"...Kali?"
"...Mother?"
Mother's presence right at the door was startling enough, but the scene behind her was horrifying.
Someone who shouldn't be at the villa was coldly surveying the oil-paint-ravaged interior.
That man was Striker Hu Gladys.
My father.