Creation Talent

Even among the divine race, only the tiniest fraction were born with it—the highest talent of all. Creation Talent.

The most noble, the most beautiful, the most sacred gift. A power held solely by chosen high-ranking divinities, capable of delaying the universe's end. The emergence of Creation Talent in a mere intelligent being was quite the event.

It implied the possibility of artificially producing Creator Gods.

For a divine race perpetually short on Creator Gods, it was impossible not to take notice.

However, Asrie hadn't anticipated the divinities offering her—her of all people—such unwavering support.

"They shunned me before, and now this?"

Asrie chuckled wryly. Their groups had nearly split due to differing methods. She'd managed her domain alone, without even subordinates, creating in proud isolation.

And now, this sudden change of attitude? It was laughable.

But according to Kanna, the divinities' situation was that dire.

"The shortage of Creator Gods has gotten way too severe already. The void in new sectors is growing beyond what we can contain. We can't keep up with the expansion rate anymore."

"That bad, huh?"

"Of course."

Kanna was a Creator God from the combat division. She knew the terror of the universe's expansion and the void all too well—the darkness blooming in that emptiness, the abyssal shadows. The horror when those turned into void beasts lunging at all existence.

Her expression grave, Kanna continued.

"We're not even pushing back the void anymore; we're barely holding against the void beasts' assaults. We need Creator Gods, more Creator Gods. Asrie."

Her face was utterly earnest and resolute—the aura of combat gods who'd endured countless battles and sacrifices in the void.

Asrie smiled at her.

"I see."

Asrie disliked the divinities. Beyond their rejection over operational differences, she was disillusioned by their pursuit of stability and efficiency over bold experimentation.

But Kanna, the Creator God before her, was different. She carried the serious, cautious vibe unique to combat origins. A rare one among divinities to earn Asrie's respect.

So Asrie listened closely as Kanna spoke with uncharacteristic gravity.

In the end, she decided.

"Fine. I'll tell you about the intelligent being who awakened as a Creator God. What foundation allowed such an irregularity."

Asrie flicked her fingertip, distorting space. A small warp formed before her, birthing a dimensional gate. She'd folded and tweaked space to carve a path to Earth.

"Hide your divine power and presence, Kanna. Earth's intelligent beings are fragile. Even high Creator God power like ours could twist their fates."

"Got it."

Kanna nodded at Asrie's words. She folded her wings, concealing her leaking divine power and high divinity presence. Soon, their auras faded to match ordinary humans.

Wings vanished from their backs, radiant divine power dissipated. Now, they appeared merely as strikingly beautiful humans.

Asrie said, "Let's go. I'll show you my most cherished planet, Earth."

Kanna nodded tensely. She intended to learn the secret of artificially inducing Creation Talent—the key to averting the divine race's crisis—and report back accurately. Her shoulders bore the weight of delaying the universe's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠doom.

-Enemy eliminated!

-Practice a bit?

-Five consecutive kills!

-High score reserved!

Kim Jihun's fingers flew across the keyboard, locked in focus. He was grinding Grandmaster mid-to-high competitive in Overwatch.

For the past few days, he'd streamed using a webcam and headset. Viewership had surged accordingly. If he kept this up, decent revenue was in the bag.

Glancing at his chat mid-game, Jihun smirked.

'Mostly about my looks, huh.'

His stream's rising popularity stemmed partly from stellar gameplay, but mostly his dazzling appearance.

Viewers' eyes were glued to his face.

Jihun felt awkward.

Shouldn't have used the webcam? Feels like I'm just profiting off my face.

He had a mild aversion to monetizing his looks. He'd ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠been utterly average before. But post-Creator God Manual, his glow set him apart from mortals.

Their affection pleased yet unsettled him—like wearing unfamiliar clothes.

Should've just streamed gameplay only.

He was confident his skills alone could make him a top BJ. But now, looks overshadowed talent.

Shaking his head, he thought,

Good is good. Thanks to my looks, popularity spiked fast. Just roll with it.

A bit uncomfortable, but he'd leverage his appearance.

-Match end.

-Victory!

Jihun sighed in relief, removing his headset. Grinning hugely,

"Finally hit 10 straight solo-queue Grandmaster wins! Whew, today was brutal. See you tomorrow same time!"

He glanced at chat—flooded with disappointed fans.

Jihun chuckled and ended the stream.

"Hm."

Post-stream, he lounged in his chair for a breather. Then, resolute, he eyed his desk corner.

There lay his mysterious book, the Creator God Manual.

"Right. Time for today's quest. 'Quest Alarm.'"

With firm resolve, Jihun summoned it. Golden light bloomed as text rose from the book.

"Improvement creation?"

Jihun muttered, swallowing a groan.

He'd recently mastered mimicking advanced objects. Now, even complex ones were feasible with mild headaches.

But improvement creation?

His face fell.

"Gotta tweak and upgrade advanced objects myself, huh."

He intuitively grasped it from the prompt: rebirth advanced objects via personal improvements.

Smartphones needed superior performance, computers faster computation, engines better mileage and power.

Corporate R&D—solo, relying solely on his Creation Force and brain!

Jihun muttered incredulously,

"This is ridiculous."

Analyzing and mimicking structures had taken weeks of flailing.

Now, boosting efficiency alone? Vision blurred.

Then, his eyes caught something.

"Wait, the reward..."

It read:

Reward: Creation Force +10,000, Computation Aid

"Ten thousand Creation Force?"

Jihun blinked in surprise. His current total hovered around 60,000. This was a sixth of it—from one quest!

Tempted by the hefty reward, but self-aware, he knew it wouldn't be quick.

He sighed.

"Gotta do it. What choice do I have? Sigh!"

Suddenly, he noticed the reward wasn't just Creation Force. His retina reflected "Computation Aid."

Somehow, it felt far more valuable than 10,000 Creation Force.

"Mom, where you headed?"

Stepping into the living room, Jihun asked his mother, dressed for an outing.

"Yeah. My back's been hurting more lately. Off to the hospital."

"That bad? Want me to come?"

"Called a cab. Stay home; you'll be fine."

Jihun worried. His mom suffered severe herniated discs, hobbling her movements—a remnant of side gigs to help the shop since his childhood.

He'd long wished to cure her chronic illness.

Suddenly, he recalled his own Creation Talent.

If my Creation Force advances to life creation... maybe I could heal the sick?

A passing thought. Yet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Jihun believed it possible, remembering Asrie's radiant creative power.

Watching her head to the hospital, he vowed: Hone his Creation Force someday to heal her.

"I'll come too."

Jihun followed his mother to the hospital.