Super Righteous Player
Chapter 464 - 5 "Boy Genius"_1

Chapter 464: Chapter 5 "Boy Genius"_1

"Back then, I was a... very clumsy painter,"

Nigel said in a low voice, sitting next to Annan.

There were hardly any people on the subway from Noah to the Duchy of Winter, so they all sat at the very front of the train.

Although it was called a subway and indeed traveled underground, the seating arrangement was more like that of a train. There were no assigned seats; one could just find a place to sit at will.

The first-class seats on the subway were those low sofas that faced each other, capable of seating two or three people, with a wooden table in between. Each table was set with a plate of fruit, a plate of dried nuts, a plate of candied fruit, and a plate of pastries—and the table could even be used for reading, writing, or drawing.

Sitting opposite them were Jiu’er and Lin Yiyi, both very interested in stories.

As the only male among the three players, Four Dark Jacks, in theory, could sit next to Lin Yiyi or next to Annan—after all, Annan was slim and it seemed possible to squeeze in another person.

But after a silent battle of gazes between Lin Yiyi and Jiu’er, which ended in a compromise (meaning no one else should sit there), Four Dark Jacks, who originally sat next to Annan, was mercilessly chased to a table across the aisle by his sister.

He comfortably hogged two sofas and a table all to himself along with all the snacks on it.

For Four Dark Jacks, lying on the sofa, eating melon seeds, and listening to stories was quite blissful.

However, it might have been an illusion, but Four Dark Jacks always felt that Annan had become cuter after turning white-haired... Anyway, Annan didn’t avoid male players, and Kafney didn’t guard against them either, so Four Dark Jacks would occasionally come over and take a whiff of Annan.

As Andersen said—since you can’t "do it" anyway, the real gender doesn’t matter; might as well simply imagine Annan as a beautiful girl. After all, Annan did look very cute, and his voice hadn’t even changed yet.

It was like in every silly monk’s group chat, there would always be a lucky member chosen by the crowd to be sacrificed and turned into a fake beautiful girl.

Thinking like this, whether hugging Annan or chatting with him, wouldn’t you be taking advantage of a young, cute princess with white hair?!

—You’re really freaking talented.

Four Dark Jacks held Andersen in awe.

These days, people who so openly acknowledged their desires were rare...

Upon deeper consideration, he even wanted to call the police.

Annan is only fourteen, what do you want to do!

But on second thought, there was indeed something unusual about Annan’s charm. Before he was just ordinarily delicate, but after he turned white-haired, even Four Dark Jacks would occasionally glance at Annan... and it seemed even Annan’s voice had become more pleasant, his words more persuasive.

Was this some sort of Transcendent ability related to charm?

While Four Dark Jacks was pondering,

Nigel, sitting next to Annan, continued to recount his story in a soft voice.

"Really, I was a... very clumsy painter.

"Both of my parents were not painters, not even remotely connected to the art industry... My father was the chief financial officer of a Viscount, and my mother was a mediocre Ritualist. They hoped I would become a Transcendent, preferably to study transformation spells at Heath Tower of Black."

Nigel looked at the table and muttered softly, "Because of their jobs, they were able to come into contact with the transformed products, knowing how much money they could make. They thought it was a profession that was not busy, safe, not easily eliminated, and could make a lot of money... and they could also wield transcendent powers."

"So when I aspired to become a painter back then, I encountered unprecedented obstacles. Not only did they stop giving me any money from the age of fourteen, but they even kicked me out of the house. I couldn’t return without admitting my mistakes, and naturally, there was no allowance for food."

"At that time, my father was quite a well-known figure in our town, so nobody was willing to hire me for menial work. He had also spoken to a few uncles I knew, ensuring that I couldn’t find a job... And since I didn’t know how to do anything else, it was very difficult for me to support myself, and painting also required money for paints and canvases."

The middle-aged painter sighed heavily, took a deep breath, and said, "Back then, I was young and ignorant, I hadn’t suffered much before. After I went hungry, I became more determined than ever, thinking that I would never turn back, no matter what— even if it meant starving to death, I would never go back to apologize."

... You’re lucky you didn’t go, or you’d be dead without a whole body now.

Annan fell silent for a moment.

Almost all of the wizards at Heath Tower of Black had perished—this fact had not yet been made public. Such an atrocity committed within the borders would undoubtedly diminish the credibility of Noah’s officialdom, cause panic among the population, and affect the recruitment of Black Tower. Thus, it was tacitly concealed by both parties.

"What did you do after that?"

Jiu’er asked curiously, "Did you discover your own talent for painting and then sell some of your earlier works?"

"If only it were that simple,"

Nigel said with a wry smile.

Deep within his azure pupils lay pain that had long since subsided. That mature, full-bodied bitterness, like aged wine, gave him an unusual charm despite his scruffy, unkempt appearance.

He said sincerely, "Really, I wish I had talent.

"Back then, I put my only lifeline on Paper Princess. I was frantically painting, for fourteen hours a day. First, I painted vases and fruits, continuously, drawing hundreds of times with my greatest enthusiasm and effort... Then I sold all the paintings to Paper Princess in exchange for living expenses, money for paints and canvases, as well as rent.

"Eventually, I painted so much that I felt nauseated, and the paintings really couldn’t be exchanged for much money anymore. So I looked out the window of the room I rented and started to paint the scenery outside.

"Because I needed to rent the cheapest rooms, I often moved every few months to avoid getting sick from the cold in winter or developing rashes in summer. After all, I couldn’t afford to have the Silver Baron’s priests cure me, so I absolutely couldn’t afford to fall ill.

"But thankfully, because I moved frequently, the scenery outside my window often changed, so I never lacked something to paint. The same landscape looked different in spring and autumn... When I returned to rooms I had rented before, I could always discover beauty I hadn’t noticed previously.

"I survived and was able to continue on this path all thanks to the support from Paper Princess. My talent was truly too mediocre... After seven years of desperate painting, I finally sold my first painting.

"I was twenty-one then and became a renowned genius artist far and wide... But they didn’t know that before I became the ’genius’ they spoke of, I had gone through over two thousand discarded drafts.

"At that time, out of vanity, I coveted the title of ’genius’ which wasn’t truly mine. It felt like an honor, an affirmation of the future I had chosen... In order to be seen as a genius in the eyes of others, I painted even more desperately, putting all my effort into my art. But of the paintings I produced, only one or two in a hundred were satisfactory to me, ones that could be sold without tarnishing my ’genius’ reputation."

Nigel answered slowly, "But back then, I didn’t understand anything.

"At first, I barely understood Paper Princess... I thought the money I received was conjured out of thin air by Her divine power as an exchange. I was very content with this low rate of quality and had no desire to change it; I even took pride in consistently exchanging my paintings with Paper Princess for a higher price and felt complacent—believing that I was recognized by Paper Princess, that I was another kind of genius, one who could maintain passion persistently."

"... It was only when I found out from my mother that the money Paper Princess gave to us painters wasn’t conjured out of nothing... She had been painting herself, selling her own works, and then distributing all the money she earned to us.

"It was only then that I realized—how much trouble my poor talent had caused for Paper Princess."

He lamented with a pained groan.