The Former Child Prodigy Goes To The Museum To See The Grand Prize-Winning Work

And so, together with Arisa, I visited the largest art museum in the Imperial Capital. Apparently, the prize-winning works from the Bladra Grand Art Prize, which had become a bit of a topic at the art class, were being displayed there.

It seemed to be a surprisingly popular exhibition, and the museum was packed with people on the holiday.

Looking at the various exhibits, I walked along with the flow of the crowd.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful, big brother!”

Beside me, Arisa was looking at one of the paintings on display with excitement. Incidentally, it was not one of the grand prize winners, but an old painting from the permanent collection.

Every one of them was realistic, the kind of “beautiful painting that ordinary people typically imagine.”

As we looked at them, the flow of people gradually carried us onward.

Before long, we reached the corner for the Bladra Grand Art Prize-winning works.

Starting with the “Special Judges’ Award,” we went around in order through “Bronze Prize,” “Silver Prize,” and “Gold Prize.”

Every painting was quite skillfully done.

Well, they all felt like modernized reworkings of old paintings from the permanent collection.

Arisa spoke up beside me.

“The grand prize is coming up soon! I can’t wait!”

The grand prize was just ahead—but as expected of the grand prize, the crowd was incredible. If we did not work our way closer, we would not even be able to tell what kind of painting it was.

Little by little, little by little.

The density of the crowd pushed us farther and farther forward.

Just a little more, just a little more.

To be honest, the prize-winning works below the grand prize did not really strike a chord with me. They felt too expected, I guess. As if I could plainly see the feeling of, this is what art is supposed to be, this is how you paint if you want people to like it.

They felt somehow similar to the paintings I used to create while pretending to be someone else back when I was a student.

I had figured that, in the end, those were the kinds of things that got praised.

So I was not expecting much from the grand prize-winning work either.

No matter what, it probably would not be all that amazing—

“Big brother, look, that’s the grand prize!”

At last, we stood in front of the grand prize-winning work.

At that moment, I was hit with a shock.

It might have been the greatest shock I had ever felt from any painting I had seen.

It was that astonishing a moment.

My breath stopped, and my heart exploded.

No matter how one looked at it, it was a painting of “the brutally murdered corpse of an octopus pasted onto a grotesquely painted willow tree.”

Or rather, it was the painting I had done in the trial course.

“Huh.”

“Huh.”

Arisa and I froze. We froze hard.

“Arisa, I feel like I’ve seen this painting before, but maybe it’s just my imagination?”

“U-uhhh, uhhhhh…”

Arisa furrowed her brow and tilted her head.

“It does feel familiar—but no… no, that can’t be right…”

“It can’t?”

I thought it was rather rare for things to match up this closely.

I did not think people generally painted “the brutally murdered corpse of an octopus pasted onto a grotesquely painted willow tree.”

“But, big brother, you didn’t even enter the contest in the first place, did you?”

“That’s true.”

She certainly had a point. I had not entered. Since I had not entered, there was no way my painting could have won the grand prize. The painting I had left behind at the art class had surely been thrown away.

“Maybe I was being a bit too self-conscious.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s right, there’s no way this could be your painting, big brother!”

“True enough.”

While we were having that conversation, a museum staff member called out to us from behind.

“We apologize, guests, but there are many visitors today, so please do not stop walking.”

“Oh, sorry.”

We hurried away from the spot.

Once we left the exhibition area, the flow of people spread out more, leaving more room in the space. We strolled through the museum toward the exit.

“Hey, big brother. What an amazing coincidence, right? That grand prize-winning work!”

“Yeah. There really are paintings that look that similar.”

Inwardly, I had been thinking that I was pretty original, but apparently that was not the case. Good grief, how embarrassing. It was like I was some cringeworthy person who thought he was special.

Hadn’t it said exactly that in the job-hunting manual book, Unrivaled Job Offers?

“Know your place: you are not a special being. Once you step out into the vast sea of society, you are no more than a replaceable substitute. Only to those who understand this will interviewers smile.”

Mm. Yes, that really was correct.

“Big brother, why don’t you try entering next year too? Maybe artist Ilvis will be born!”

“…Who knows…”

After all, this year someone with a style so much like mine had already won the grand prize. Even if I entered next year, maybe I would just get dismissed as “a copycat!” and be knocked out in the preliminary round.

Originality in art is hard.

“Ah!”

Arisa suddenly cried out.

“There’s a painting trial corner over there!”

Again?

Apparently, they were using an open space to hold it. Participation was free, it seemed.

“Come on, big brother! You’re free anyway, so let’s go!”

“Well, I am free, so sure…”

And so, we ended up doing another painting trial.

Soltage, one of the Eight Stars, was in the museum’s “Painting Trial Corner.” Naturally, if the leading figure in the Imperial Capital’s art world were to be seen in a place like that, it would cause an uproar, so he was wrapped in a plain robe with his hood pulled low over his face.

Why was he doing such a thing—

To search for the creator of the grand prize-winning work.

There was a major problem with the grand prize-winning work. The contact information of the winner was unknown.

As a result, the issue of rights concerning the painting had become troublesome.

So, after discussions with the auction house, Black Dragon’s Fang decided on the following:

“We will hold an exhibition at the museum and search for the creator there. If the creator comes forward, the rights will be granted to that person. If no one comes forward, it will be recognized as the property of Black Dragon’s Fang.”

One of the intentions behind holding this exhibition was indeed to find the creator, but—

Orfred, who wanted full rights to the painting if possible, was taking the stance that “he did not want the creator to come forward.” Therefore, the notice stating that they were looking for the creator was extremely understated, and most visitors probably did not know that fact.

It was an ideal situation for Orfred and Black Dragon’s Fang, but Soltage could not accept it.

Soltage wanted to meet the creator of the grand prize-winning work.

The genius who had produced that miracle of art.

The first genius he had ever met in his life whose talent far surpassed his own.

And so, as a desperate measure, he had arranged for a painting trial corner to be opened in the museum. If the person liked painting, perhaps they might come by to kill time.

He knew the odds were incredibly low. There was a high chance it would all amount to nothing. Even so, Soltage could not stop himself from trying.

Because he wanted to meet that talent.

If there was even a one percent chance of it, he was willing to throw away the time he had always considered more precious than anything else—his own creative time. That was the extent of his resolve.

And so, pretending to be a staff member, Soltage had been secretly checking the paintings of the students who came to the painting class.

With Soltage’s discerning eye, he could analyze an artist’s style with no more than a glance. Even if they changed their style, it would be useless. Soltage’s eye would absolutely see through it.

It was talent of that magnitude. There was no way the genius Soltage would overlook it.

Another new participant. Rising from the chair in the corner of the room, he began examining the paintings one by one.

Not this one, not this one, not this one, not this one, not this one—

There was no disappointment. He had already been prepared for that.

Then he heard voices coming from the young man and woman among the participants ahead of him.

“Again, big brother! You painted something weird again!”

“Hahaha, I just got serious, that’s all—serious!”

They were speaking in such easygoing tones. It gave the impression that they were not taking art very seriously at all.

(…No good… The kind of person who could paint that work would surely have to be someone who had devoted their life to beauty, someone literally like the incarnation of art itself. To reach that level, that kind of resolve would be necessary. Someone like this could never—)

Swallowing back a sigh, Soltage approached the two of them.

He looked at the woman’s painting.

Utterly ordinary. Not it.

Then he turned his gaze to the man’s painting— let out a small sigh, and made his judgment.

(…This one isn’t it either…)