I opened my eyes wide and looked around.
But there was no doubt—the automaton was pointing directly at me.
“M-Me? Why me of all people? Wouldn’t it be better for you to compete with a more skilled artist and earn recognition that way?”
“Because you were the one who spoke about what true art is.”
“This is insane.”
“And to the man holding the gun over there—if I detect any movement in your fingers, I will self-destruct immediately.”
I instinctively made eye contact with Raffaelo, silently telling him that there was no other choice. In the end, he lowered his gun.
Panic set in immediately. The fate of everyone on this ship depended on me!
No, this is crazy. This isn’t right!
In my previous world, I was just a math instructor with a slight interest in the humanities—I had nothing to do with art!
Suddenly, I missed my friend Seongryeong. She loved writing, and if she were here, she’d surely have figured a way out of this.
‘Seongryeong… give me an answer…’
For some reason, I wished she would appear from the heavens like a dove, just as her name suggested.
Of course, that was just my delusion—it wasn’t going to happen.
Standing alone, I could only watch as the automaton began painting, all eyes in the room fixed on me.
“Miss Viviana, you can do it!”
“I saw you talking earlier—you’re good with words, so I bet you’ll be good at art too!”
People who didn’t know me tried to encourage me, but it wasn’t helping at all.
“Seraphina, don’t worry. You are a friend of mine, so you must have artistic talent.”
“Then what about Aurora?”
“………”
As Arkhangelo fell silent, the automaton calmly walked over to the canvas and sat down.
“We will compete using the same subject.”
“And the subject is…?”
“Let that person decide.”
A man, who had been randomly chosen by the automaton, hesitantly stepped forward.
“State the subject.”
“Uh… the painting I want to see is…”
After some hesitation, the man finally spoke.
“The sea.”
“The sea. Understood.”
Immediately, the automaton’s hands began to move swiftly.
Using various shades of blue, it meticulously recreated the ocean on the canvas.
The painting was breathtaking—so lifelike that it seemed as if the sea had been copied and pasted onto the canvas.
‘What am I supposed to do?’
My drawing skills weren’t terrible, but they weren’t particularly outstanding either.
I couldn’t guarantee that I would win in a painting contest against a machine.
Then, what was my advantage over the automaton?
What could I do that a machine could not?
After a long moment of contemplation, I finally gasped.
“Ah.”
That’s it.
I lifted my head and looked at the man who had chosen the subject, ‘the sea,’ and asked him—
“You said you wanted to see the sea, correct?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Do you like the sea?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think is the reason you like it?”
The man looked slightly taken aback by my question but then slowly opened his mouth to speak.
“…When I was young, I often went to the sea with my parents. We would sit on the beach, eat the snacks we brought, and enjoy a picnic.”
His voice became wistful as he recalled his past memories.
“My parents have passed away now, so I can no longer go on those picnics. But to me, the sea is a place that reminds me of my family. Whenever I think of it, I always feel a sense of longing.”
“…I see.”
“When we went to the sea, it felt like escaping from reality, like stepping into a distant, unfamiliar world.”
“I understand now.”
I started to get a sense of what I needed to paint.
“Raffaelo, I have a favor to ask.”
“Hmm?”
“Go to the cabin and…”
After giving Raffaelo some instructions, I slowly began painting on my canvas.
About thirty minutes later, the automaton revealed its painting.
“This is the sea I have painted.”
The automaton’s painting was incredible.
It captured the essence of impressionism, skillfully expressing the ever-changing colors of the sea with dynamic precision.
Most notably, there was a family sitting on the beach, enjoying a picnic.
In other words, the automaton had processed the man’s words and created a painting that would resonate with him.
“Are you finished?”
“…Yes, I’m done too.”
I slowly lifted my hand from the canvas and revealed my painting.
Unlike the automaton’s work, my painting had no beach in sight—only the deep, vast ocean.
There were no human ships floating on the water.
But through the shimmering reflections on the surface, one could make out three whales beneath the waves—a whale family.
They swam gracefully, spouting water as they dove into the depths.
Into the untouched, unspoiled depths of the ocean.
“Ah…”
The man gazed at my painting for a long time.
“A whale family…”
“Yes, that’s right. But my painting isn’t finished yet.”
As everyone’s eyes turned to me, I reached out toward Raffaelo.
Raffaelo then handed me a gleaming mirror.
“A mirror? What’s that for?”
“Yeah, what are you planning to do with it?”
As murmurs of curiosity spread through the crowd, I carefully placed the mirror over my canvas.
Since I had used printing ink for my painting, the image transferred onto the mirror.
Of course, since I wasn’t very skilled at printmaking, there were a few empty spots on the mirror.
I handed the mirror to the man.
“Here. Now, you can create your own painting.”
“My own painting?”
The man stood there blankly, not understanding my words at first. But then he lifted the mirror and saw his own reflection in it.
And in that moment, realization dawned on him.
“Ah…! This way, the sea can be anywhere!”
This time, the man reflected the mirror over the river.
The blue water blended naturally with the image of the sea.
I hoped that he would carry the sea within him for a long time.
So, I gifted him a mirror stained with paint, allowing him to see everything as a reflection of the sea.
“This is a new technique. A completely unconventional form of art.”
“You’ve engaged the audience more deeply by using an unexpected object.”
“Yes, and even the painting before transferring it onto the mirror was excellent. You listened to the story of the one who desired the painting and reinterpreted it in your own way.”
“It feels like you’ve completely made it your own.”
As the artists gave their praise, the man who had first brought up the theme of the ‘sea’ spoke in a trembling voice.
“This… exceeds my imagination.”
At his words, silence quickly filled the surroundings.
“Going to the sea means venturing into an unfamiliar world… I can feel that emotion exactly. And now, no matter where I am, I can always have the sea with me…”
“I’m glad you got what you wanted.”
“As expected! I also think it’s brilliant!”
“This isn’t just about imitating nature on a canvas—it’s an entirely new approach that actively involves the audience!”
“This contest is undoubtedly a victory for the noble lady!”
With that, the atmosphere shifted in my favor, as if my victory was assured.
As the artists continued their praise, the automaton spoke.
“My painting was more precise.”
“No, that’s not the point! You don’t understand art!”
At the sudden interjection, my eyes widened. Because the voice belonged to…
“Aurora?”
Aurora had suddenly appeared, standing in front of the automaton with her hands on her hips, launching into a passionate speech.
“Seraphina’s painting was far better! And not because you’re a machine, but because people were moved by her art!”
“I cannot accept that.”
“And Seraphina created something entirely new and defined it as art. You will never be able to do that!”
Aurora exclaimed in frustration.
“Besides, your painting lacked any emotion!”
“That’s just wordplay.”
“Hmph, you don’t understand a human’s purpose at all.”
She scoffed before continuing.
“Artists, you see, they know exactly why they were born into this world. The stories within them! Their emotions! Delivering those to others—that is our mission.”
“For once, Aurora is saying something right! Indeed, she speaks the truth!”
As Arkhangelo joined in, the crowd nodded in agreement.
The automaton seemed to be thrown into confusion.
“But this is not art. I cannot acknowledge this as art.”
“Oh.”
An idea struck me.
Perhaps I could break the automaton.
“What is art?”
“Art is a human activity and its resulting work, aimed at expressing beauty through special materials, techniques, and styles, making it an object of appreciation.”
“How can you distinguish between art and something that is not art?”
