A picture drawn by artificial intelligence through the human body.
Before evaluating its level, there’s an obvious premise we must acknowledge:
Groomrok is not the kind of mediocre artist who’d gape at someone else’s work and shout, “Wow, new tech is amazing—!”
Of course, Groomrok doesn’t understand how the clicker works.
Chloe calls it “magical engineering,” but Groomrok, who doesn’t grasp the principles of generative AI, has no reason to feel disgust or suspicion.
But just a moment ago—
When he saw Chloe’s sketches scattered across the floor—
“It’s clumsy.”
Groomrok’s aesthetic eye had already pierced through its level and limitations.
At first glance, it might look beautiful. But that’s all.
There’s no aesthetic in this picture.
Let it be said again—if this had been a student’s drawing, even the gentle Groomrok wouldn’t have hesitated to give them sixteen flicks to the forehead.
“How dare you insult art like that?”
However—
Groomrok didn’t scold Chloe.
Instead, as if expecting something from her skills, his hand merely trembled.
“I’ll begin.”
Swoosh—!
Chloe swung her brush without hesitation.
She spread the roughly dabbed paint across the canvas.
‘What is she trying to do?’
Jixly, who was silently observing, felt puzzled.
A base coat?
No, it was far too messy for that.
And then, not satisfied with just her brush, Chloe began painting with her fingers dipped in paint.
‘…Is she messing around?’
It wasn’t criticism.
It wasn’t anger.
It was pure, literal curiosity.
To Jixly, Chloe’s brushstrokes looked like nothing more than a child’s play.
That was why—
Jixly was a beat too late to realize the answer.
‘…Wait a second. Could it be—?’
Only a minute had passed since Chloe picked up her brush.
And already, an image was emerging on the canvas.
As if coloring over a completed sketch—vividly and clearly.
‘This girl… she already saw the whole outline of the painting?!’
The bright liveliness had vanished from her face.
Now, like a doll, Chloe danced with the paint.
Joy.
Hesitation.
Fatigue.
Delight.
Irritation.
Emotions that dominate artists and seep into their work.
Flaws that any living being should possess.
She excluded them all. It was a quantized, calculated dance.
Not a single wasted motion in her brushstrokes—
Brushstroke after brushstroke, expressionless like a puppet,
A chilling aura seeped from her tightly shut lips.
Groomrok and Jixly were overwhelmed by the presence she exuded.
Was it because Chloe’s hand was so precise and fast?
No, that’s wrong.
That’s a shallow impression only a beginner might have.
“What’s truly incredible isn’t the hand…”
“…It’s the eyes, right?”
Artists often say:
Art isn’t drawn with the hands.
It’s drawn with the eyes.
‘Just like a composer writes music by listening with the ear of the heart, and only transcribes it with their hand.’
Music is meant to be heard through the ears,
And art is meant to be seen through the eyes.
In other words, a painter with fast brushwork isn’t fast with their hands—
They have good eyes.
‘If you reach the level of drawing with your eyes, all that’s left is to transfer the finished image in your mind onto the paper.’
It’s no different from solving a problem with the answer sheet right in front of you.
That’s why tracing is so much easier than copying.
‘But… usually, that kind of talk is nonsense.’
It’s such a desk-theory idea that even Groomlok himself can’t do it.
The more effort a piece requires, the more preparation it needs.
It takes hard work.
It demands time.
That’s why—
Artists create and practice all kinds of techniques.
Things like rough sketches and esquisse.
They’re all techniques to “get a sneak peek at the finished picture.”
Magic tricks for artists to compensate for their limited vision.
A preliminary exploration of how their painting will take shape.
But—
“In Chloe’s brushstrokes… there is no such effort.”
Steadily,Without any technique,She simply paints.
And by doing so, she reaches her own form of completion.
“She sees a different world. Completely unlike ours!”
That’s why she’s so fast.
That’s why there’s no hesitation.
Jixly was horrified.
Even frightened.
Because Chloe’s method of painting followed every typical mistake made by beginners.
Starting a drawing from the corner,Wasting paint carelessly,Changing colors so often that the brush never gets soaked enough.
And yet—
No, even so—
“I’m finished.”
With that speed and insight, her painting presented itself before them with an eerie grace.
A cosmic kind of awe accompanied it.
The finished painting was a portrait of a goblin.
The artistic interpretation was so bold that it was hard to recognize at first,But it seemed Chloe had painted Jixly.
He reflexively burst into applause.
By now, Jixly understood.
“A-Amazing! Chloe, you’re truly a genius!”
Why the master lent her painting tools.
That Chloe was, without a doubt, a prodigy.
Jealousy toward the genius girl?
“There’s no way.”
Even inferiority vanishes in the face of real talent.
At least, that’s what Jixly thought.
No martial artist tries to measure punch strength against a meteor.
Feeling jealous or despair over a natural disaster—
Only the world’s biggest fool would do that.
Even goblins don’t do that.
And Jixly was a pure-blood goblin, so it had to be true.
But then—
“No. I still don’t think it’s that great.”
Her modesty nearly made Jixly want to bonk her head.
Quite a few times, even.
“…Not that great? What part?”
Yes, the brushstrokes were rough.
But wasn’t that only natural?
When you draw that fast, of course there’d be a lack of finesse.
Or… was this goblin discrimination?
A roundabout insult blaming the model for ruining the piece?
Thankfully, Chloe shook her head calmly and avoided an incoming bonk.
“If it had been an instrument, I could’ve expressed it much better.”
“An instrument…?”
Jixly suddenly remembered.
This girl hadn’t come here to learn art.
“Yes. I learned music properly back in my hometown! I guess music suits me better than painting after all!”
That comment was Chloe’s small rebellion—
Or perhaps, her resistance.
She didn’t want to be the hidden-overpowered MC in a medieval AI art novel.
“If that were the case, even the novel title would have to be changed to ‘Clicky Hides Her Conscience’ or something.”
Well, to be fair, that does sound more like a modern webnovel title than something like “The Star-Whatever Wizard”.
Chloe snickered to herself.
Can she really be as good at music as she is at AI painting?
“Of course.”
For once, Chloe didn’t feel crushed by pressure.
And rightfully so—
Because when it came to playing instruments, that was 100% her own skill.
Whether praised or criticized, her conscience stayed clean!
“What, are they gonna tell me to go draw instead if I suck at music~?”
[If it comes to that, I’ll just play for them myself!]
Yeah~ Go back to drawing instead~.
And so what if she got some hate?
If anyone complained about her playing, she could just say,
“Well, maybe you’ve got tin ears.”
It wasn’t “coping.”
As struggling artists like Van Gogh had proven,
Artistry isn’t about power rankings.
No one can objectively measure superiority.
But—
That’s something only the artist themselves can say.
Jixly stared blankly at the canvas.
“You think instruments suit you better? More than this?”
All those years of refined manners gone, he reverted to your average goblin vocabulary.
But could you blame him?
It felt like he’d just been smacked in the back of the head with a pipe organ.
“You said you properly learned music?”
Then what about painting?
“…Chloe, you never studied art?”
“Correct! I never studied it at all!”
Even the listening orc felt his intelligence dropping from the conversation.
Groomrok wisely ignored it, and Jixly’s mouth just opened and closed.
> “She’s this good without any proper training?”
She even claimed she was better at music than painting?
And wanted to be a musician instead of a painter?
> “Does that even make sense? She’s eight years old!”
Statement withdrawn.
Withdrawn and retracted again.
Jixly was, without a doubt, jealous of a natural disaster.
> “Humans suck!! I’ll destroy you!!”
“Eeeek!!”
A goblin and a human girl rolled across the attic floor.
Once again, art had transcended race and class to unite people.
Groomrok didn’t care. He focused on the painting.
> “Just as I expected, the overall quality is low.”
It likely wouldn’t sell for the same price as the others.
There would probably be plenty of harsh critiques too.
But.
> “What if it’s revealed this is Chloe’s work?”
The artwork of an eight-year-old genius girl who never studied art!
Groomrok shivered in excitement at the thought of that title.
Let’s say it again:
A self-taught,
eight-year-old,
genius girl’s painting!
If that came to light, the evaluations would change drastically.
> “From that moment on, the painting wouldn’t be ‘wrong.’”
It wouldn’t be wrong.
It would be different.
Unusual.
New.
> “A new paradigm!”
A world seen through the eyes of a child (or not), expressed in an original way.
Pure art, untouched by the grime of tradition.
Wasn’t this the very “childlike innocence” that so many master painters dreamed of capturing their whole lives?
(Not really.)
Groomrok clenched his fist, newly convinced.
He stood at the crossroads of history.
> “Chloe will bring a storm to the art world.”
And within that storm,
the artists would have to make a choice.
Would they stand firm like ancient trees?
Or rise with the new winds and soar?
A new world could only be born from the destruction of the old order and tradition.
Strangely enough,
Groomrok’s thoughts were not far off from the artists of Earth.
Just as photography pushed painting into the realm of pure art in pre-modern Earth.
Just as AI tech shook the world of 21st-century artists.
In the end, Clicky’s painting wasn’t appreciated for its own merit.
If Chloe had been an adult, she would’ve been dismissed.
You could say Chloe slightly underestimated the artists of this world.
> “…Wait. Hold on.”
Goomrok’s delight didn’t last.
He looked toward Chloe, who had elbowed Jixly in the chin and pinned him in an armlock.
Chloe was a clear-cut genius in art.
Regardless of where her talent pointed.
But at the same time, she was still just an apprentice.
An apprentice’s role is to assist other artists.
Bluntly put: a servant.
Which meant Chloe had to earnestly help her seniors—without exception!
Groomrok felt dizzy at the thought.
> “A genius like her… serving others?”
Serving artists worse than her?
> “…Can she endure that?”
Most likely not.
At least, none of the geniuses Groomrok knew could.
> “A genius’s talent and pride only invite discord.”
The arrogance and disdain of a genius.
The jealousy and despair of mediocrity.
Seeds of discord that always sprout along the path of art!
This wasn’t something Groomrok could resolve by effort.
Favoritism from the workshop master might even backfire.
What could he possibly do?
Groomrok was so anxious he lost sleep that night.
The next day—
> “Chloe, could you handle the underpainting here?”
“Sure! On my way~!”
The atelier was three times more lively than usual.
> “Whuh.”
“Wh-what the.”
The atelier had changed like a brand-new house.
The greenskin master and apprentice stood with jaws dropped.
Then, one silver squirrel-like figure came scampering up.
Chloe, face smudged with dust and paint.
> “Good morning, teachers!”
“G-Good morning. You’re here early.”
“I’m an apprentice, after all! Teachers, I hope you have a great day, and feel free to call me if you need anything!”
“R-right.”
She gave a spirited bow with her tiny fists clenched.
And then began smoothly handling all the tedious chores the apprentices hated or were terrible at.
Groomrok suddenly had a revelation—like a divine message.
> “Haha… being cute really is the best!”
Honestly, who could dislike her?
So polite and adorable.
Even as Jixly recoiled in horror at his own muttering,
Groomrok simply nodded in agreement.