Genius Blacksmith's Game

Master Painter Lee Usan listened to his daughter’s story.

Before she died, she wanted to leave the greatest painting in the world behind.

Driven by that resolve, Amy had traveled all across Ares, begging many people for the chance to paint them.

But it had gone exactly as Lee Usan had expected.

She had been ignored, despised, persecuted. Some had pointed fingers at her, and some had even tried to kill her.

“Hyun was different.”

An unreadable smile touched his daughter’s lips.

It was the face of someone who felt good just thinking about him, whose heart began to race at the very thought.

“He was delighted like a child when he heard it was free.”

Neither Usan nor his daughter was a dull person.

The value of the nation of Hyun was known to exceed at least 50 billion won.

It was a world plastered with his story across television, the internet, and even mobile phones.

A man like that would never have let her in simply because it was truly “free.”

Amy was young, but she had lost her mother early and grown up faster than anyone.

“He was someone who listened to what I had to say.”

For a king, it was not difficult to look into an ordinary user.

Amy had also seen posts like these circulating through painter communities.

-There’s this nobody painter going around all over Ares, begging super Named NPCs, kings, and emperors to please let her paint them.

-You call that asking? That’s just begging lol

-LOL seriously

-Who doesn’t know painters get perks for painting high-ranked beings? New beggar meta just dropped lol

-The beggar leading the age has appeared!!!

-You have obtained 2 Fake Stats!

Amy’s information was easy to find.

Everyone criticized her.

But he had not.

“I painted, and he listened.”

He had not turned away from the story of a girl painting for free.

Amy said that while painting half of his despair and half of his joy, she had felt many things.

And then—

“He gave me courage.”

He had only given her a single hour of his time, yet that had become the turning point in her thinking.

“Just as the king who wanted to live endured and found happiness now, he made me realize that I too have to endure this treatment if I want to be happy. He made me realize that only if I live can I go on painting more, and keep this from becoming my final work.”

“...”

Usan simply listened in silence.

“I want to turn it into the greatest masterpiece. It will hold the moment I endured as well, and I want it to be my way of repaying him. So please, complete it for me.”

His daughter smiled brightly.

“The King Who Wanted to Live.”

Looking at his daughter smiling so radiantly, Usan understood.

In her smile there was admiration, respect, praise, desire—and at the very end of it all—

It’s her first love.

The story of someone who would remain in one girl’s heart for the rest of her life had begun to flow.

But Usan shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do that.”

“...What?”

Amy was shocked.

Even though it was the first and last favor she would ever ask of him, her father was refusing because he wanted to protect his pride as a master painter.

Then, in a gentler voice than ever before, Usan said,

“You are the one who must finish that painting.”

Amy finally understood what he meant.

“Because it is your work.”

Chemotherapy was agonizing.

A flowerlike girl of only eighteen would clutch at the bed and scream in pain, and doctors and nurses would have to restrain her with all their strength.

As her hair fell out day by day, she would shave the rest off herself, and even in scorching heat she would have to wear a beanie.

Fighting alone in the hospital, the girl would gradually waste away, while through the window the seasons passed—cherry blossoms in full bloom, the summer monsoon rains,

autumn dyed in red leaves, and winter turned white.

No one knew how many times those seasons would repeat.

And at the end of it,

her flesh would fill out again, her hair would grow back, she would overcome the pain, gain a new life, and stand before that painting once more.

“You must finish that work. You must...”

It meant: survive, return there, and hold a pencil in your hand again.

A few drops of tears fell from Amy’s eyes.

“Yes...!”

Answering loudly, Amy wiped away her tears and entered the chemotherapy room.

It was the moment when a girl who wanted to live, like the king who wanted to live, stepped onto the road that would one day let her complete that painting.

And as he watched her, Master Painter Lee Usan made a decision of his own.

I should try playing Ares too.

The Lee Usan who had made that decision smiled faintly.

I want to paint the nation of Hyun.

The king there, the people there, even the children running and playing.

He wanted to paint the nation of Hyun itself, piece by piece.

It was an astonishing thought.

Lee Usan was a Living National Treasure of South Korea, a man whose paintings had sold for 5 billion won apiece, and this would not be a matter of painting just one piece as a gift, but of painting the entire nation of Hyun—a work that would take an immense amount of time.

How hot this is.

Lee Usan had more than enough money.

And he too was someone who painted the world with a brush whenever inspiration struck.

But for quite a long time, nothing had inspired him, and so he had not painted.

Now, however, gratitude toward Hyun and many other feelings came upon him as overwhelming inspiration.

How many pieces will I paint? A few? No—dozens?

Even he did not know.

What was certain was that it would be a very long and arduous undertaking.

He entered the capsule in his home.

He set his character nickname as Yibaek.

-[You may select a nation.]

Naturally, he chose the nation of Hyun.

He thought he would be able to start painting at once, but reality was merciless.

[Chief Instructor Kan.]

A man approached and held out a wooden sword, telling him to go hit the wooden doll.

Kan had once served as one of the members of the Gale Corps, but now worked in the beginner training camp raising new users.

Yibaek explained the whole story.

“So, you want me to give you drawing paper and a brush?”

“That is correct.”

Since it was not something expensive, Yibaek assumed he would get them easily.

“If you hit the wooden doll ten times, you’ll receive bread and water. Sell the bread, and you can buy drawing paper and a pen.”

In Ares, everything had a price.

And so Yibaek, now fifty-two years old, hit the wooden doll and sold all the bread to buy drawing paper and a pen.

Painters are meant to be hungry.

Then Yibaek sat off to one side with the pen and paper in hand. He wondered what he should paint, then looked around at the people and made his choice.

His hand moved with astonishing speed.

First, he drew the beginner users who had just logged into Ares for the first time, their faces full of excitement, wonder, and admiration.

Next, he drew Kan, wearing a rough expression as he looked at them with faces bright with excitement.

Behind them, he drew the users swinging wooden swords at the wooden doll.

On the faces of those striking the wooden doll, he clearly drew the strain and difficulty.

But at the same time, he also painted the small smiles lingering at the corners of their mouths.

Around them, he added trees and a few low, unimpressive little houses.

When he finished the painting, a notification sounded.

[Please express the meaning contained in the painting.]

“I wanted to express the excitement, fear, and joy one feels when first starting a game. Before beginning anything, all human beings carry expectation, excitement, and worry together.”

[Please name the painting.]

A faint smile touched the lips of Yibaek, the master painter who had created the first painting here.

This painting itself held the emotions he had felt before first entering this place, the things he had felt after entering it,

what he had seen, and the joy of what lay ahead.

“A New Beginning.”

[You have created an unbelievable painting in the Beginner Zone.]

[Its grade is being measured.]

[It is a Masterpiece.]

[You receive rewards corresponding to a Masterpiece-grade painting.]

[You gain 1 in all stats.]

[You gain 10 Dexterity.]

[You gain 30 Fame.]

[You have obtained the title True Painter of the Beginner Zone.]

Hm? A Masterpiece? Was it that easy?

He had done his basic research.

The grades of artwork were Standard Work, Masterpiece, Masterwork, and Magnum Opus.

And yet in reality, it was never easy to come across something truly called a Masterpiece.

But to get a “Masterpiece” the moment he started?

“It seems the grading in this place is far too easy. Heh-heh.”

But Kan, who was looking at the painting, was flustered.

What in the world is this...?

Because the painting the man had completed in only two hours, using the cheapest pencil and the cheapest paper, was simply too beautiful.

The expressions on Kan’s own face and on those who had first stepped foot here were overflowing with life, and the title, A New Beginning, harmonized with it perfectly.

And then—

[You have seen a Masterpiece.]

[Vitality increases by 15%, preventing fatigue, and your eye for paintings improves.]

[This effect lasts for 6 hours.]

Kan felt strength flow into his body just from seeing the painting.

“I want to buy it.”

“Regrettably, I have no intention of selling this one. I explained earlier, didn’t I? I want to place the nation of Hyun inside my paintings.”

At Yibaek’s words, Kan smiled faintly.

Hyun, whom he cherished more dearly than his own life, was the lord of this nation, and now a master painter like this was going to paint that nation.

It made him happy.

So Kan simply handed the man 3 gold.

“Thank you.”

Yibaek thought this game was truly easy, and truly kind.

But Yibaek did not know.

Kan was not a kind man in the slightest, and 3 gold was an amount that normally took users more than two weeks after starting the game to gather.

Yibaek took the 3 gold and painted the beginner hunting grounds as well.

[It is a Standard Work.]

Though the grade was low, its outward quality was still excellent.

Like that, Yibaek kept painting, and eventually reached the capital of the nation of Hyun.

Once he reached the capital, Yibaek also entered the Turtle Ship exhibition hall.

At the far end, he saw his daughter’s unfinished piece, The King Who Wanted to Live, and was deeply pleased.

Then he made a decision.

This exhibition of paintings, which might end up numbering dozens or more—

he would give all of them to Hyun, and in return he would ask a single favor.

That the exhibition be held here.

In any case, Yibaek went on painting.

“What are you painting?”

“The people of the nation of Hyun.”

“Who are you, to be painting here?”

“A passing painter. I’m painting that fluffy little puppy over there, and those adorable pets.”

“Oh? And what is this one?”

“I tried painting the king’s procession.”

“Oh my? You’re going to paint me?”

“That’s right. I would like to paint you, heavy with child, and the baby soon to be born in the nation of Hyun. Does the child have a prenatal name?”

“White Tiger.”

[It is a Standard Work.]

[It is a Masterpiece.]

[It is a Masterpiece.]

[It is a Standard Work.]

[It is a Masterpiece.]

One painting at a time, they piled up in his inventory until it was filled with works containing the nation of Hyun.

But Yibaek was also a greedy painter.

He wanted to paint even better works, and he thought he needed a few centerpiece paintings for the nation of Hyun.

But wanting something did not make it happen, so he could only do his best.

And as he kept painting, word gradually began to spread about the obscure painter who was painting the nation of Hyun.

That had happened because Master Painter Lee disliked troublesome attention and wore a mask while he painted.

Then one day,

an old man who had heard the rumors came to see him.

“Would you paint my portrait?”

“...Do you wish to display it?” 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Yibaek wanted to paint the nation of Hyun, so he did not paint those who came and asked him to.

So he was about to refuse politely, but—

“It’s for my funeral.”

“...”

“And I heard you’re painting the nation of Hyun too. In that case, I can’t very well be left out, can I? Ahem.”

Looking at the old man smiling mischievously, Yibaek picked up his pencil.

The old man sat on a roadside bench, waiting for the end of his life as he prepared for it himself.

With the castle of the nation of Hyun in the background behind him, Yibaek captured the life the old man had lived up to now.

He painted the passage of years that had turned not only his hair white, but even his eyebrows,

the stale smell that naturally clung to old people as they aged, the sagging skin, the deep wrinkles and dark spots spreading across his face.

He painted the old man lifting the corners of his lips as if to act calm while preparing for his own death, and the faint trembling there.

He vividly drew the eyelids that covered eyes which had once shone more brilliantly than anyone’s.

And as he went on painting the old man’s attempt to look dignified, to pretend he was not sad, the spear he had planted into the ground while holding it in a seated posture, Yibaek felt it.

This Ares, too, was a place where people lived, and where things followed the natural order.

Human beings could not choose to be born, but an old man could prepare for his end.

Only when his surging emotions, his sincerity toward the old man, the focus and labor of a great master painter, and all of his utmost effort had been poured into that moment did Yibaek finally set down the pencil.

[A Magnum Opus is being written.]

[You gain 15 in all stats.]

[You gain 200 Dexterity.]

[You gain 500 Fame.]

[All painter-related skills increase by 1 level.]

[Congratulations.]

[You are the first user to create a Magnum Opus.]

[A world message rings out.]

Even amid the flood of growth notifications, and even after reaching the highest realm he had yet achieved in Ares, Yibaek could not smile.

The old man slowly rose and looked at the painting.

On his face there was joy and sadness. Emptiness and hollowness.

And at the very end of it, there was fear of death.

“Thank you. What is the title?”

“...I would like to name it after you.”

Only the name of the old man preparing for the end of his life could become the title of this painting.

With a broad smile, the old man said his own name and the title, then departed, and the painter Yibaek remembered that name forever.

[The name of the Magnum Opus is Old Man Ben.]