Although the artwork looked extremely refined at first glance, Lin Yuan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing.
Fortunately, every detail needed to create Genshin Impact had already been placed into his mind by the system.
He could recall any of its visuals at any time.
After quickly reviewing the details of the game’s character art in his memory, Lin Yuan finally understood what felt off about the AI-generated images.
They were too perfect—too deliberate in every detail.
And because of that, they lacked a sense of authenticity.
At first glance, they appeared stunning.
But after looking a bit longer, a strong sense of unnaturalness would begin to seep through the screen, making people subconsciously uncomfortable.
If viewed occasionally, they might seem fine.
But as game visuals—something players would see constantly—they weren’t suitable.
At that moment, Lin Yuan began to understand why people in his previous life had said, “AI-generated art has no soul.”
He also understood why, even after AI art became highly advanced, mainstream game companies still chose to train their own artists instead of relying on it.
However, game companies in the Dragon Kingdom had already begun using AI art on a large scale.
After all, it was cheap and could be produced in massive quantities.
As a result, even major companies like Penguin and NetEase were consistently outperformed by foreign developers in terms of visual quality.
“I’d still like you to find me a professional team of artists,” Lin Yuan said, shaking his head after looking at a few samples.
“Professional art teams are hard to find nowadays.
And even if you do, the cost will be extremely high—you might not be able to afford it,” the salesman replied, sounding somewhat disappointed.
His attitude also cooled slightly.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he added.
“You know what the gaming market is like in the Dragon Kingdom—completely monopolized by a few big companies.
Smaller studios don’t last long.
Using AI art at least helps you lose less money.”
Lin Yuan’s eye twitched.
“Wow, my company just started and you’re already predicting its downfall?”
The salesman sighed, then silently pointed toward a sign in the corner of the hall.
After walking over and reading it, Lin Yuan finally found, in an inconspicuous spot, the location of traditional artists.
“49th floor?
Who would even bother going that high?” he muttered, shaking his head.
Give it a few more decades, and the profession might disappear altogether.
Sighing, Lin Yuan took the elevator to the 49th floor.
What he saw there made the situation even clearer.
Compared to the floors below, the 49th floor looked almost dilapidated.
Most of the furniture consisted of cheap desks and easels, and there were barely any people around.
Only a dozen or so studios remained, and half of them were closed.
Most had likely moved downstairs to work on AI-generated art, which was far more profitable.
If even the headquarters of the country’s most famous art studios looked like this, there was no need to imagine how bad things were elsewhere.
AI art had lower prices—but also much lower costs.
And with sales volumes several times higher than traditional art, it brought in more profit overall.
Lin Yuan walked through the few studios that were still open before entering the cleanest-looking one.
As soon as he stepped inside, he saw a beautiful girl with delicate features and skin as fair as jade.
She was completely focused on the canvas before her, carefully painting.
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling softly on her long black hair cascading down her back.
From the side, the scene looked like a painting itself.
Compared to her, so-called campus beauties or celebrities seemed almost insignificant.
Though there were more artists working in a room further inside, Lin Yuan’s attention was entirely drawn to the girl in front of him.
As he got closer, he could see her face more clearly.
Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her sapphire-like eyes carried a faint trace of melancholy.
There was an indescribable gentleness to her appearance—pure and untouched, like a blank sheet of paper.
“Is there something you need?” she asked softly, sensing someone nearby.
She let out a quiet sigh and set down her brush.
Her voice carried a unique softness that was pleasant to the ear.
“I’m looking to collaborate with some artists,” Lin Yuan said, then shook his head.
“No—many artists.”
“Art is expensive,” she replied simply.
“Money isn’t the problem.
Skill is what matters.”
It depicted a fairy-tale-like garden filled with vibrant flowers, with countless butterflies fluttering among them.
“You don’t need to worry about that.
The artists here are all top-tier in the country,” she said, handing him a business card.
On it was a portrait of a girl and contact information.
“Wang Xiaomei… you’re the owner of this studio?” Lin Yuan asked, surprised.
He hadn’t expected such a young girl to be in charge.
And her name reminded him of a certain character from Genshin Impact.
“There were some changes in the studio recently, so I’m temporarily in charge,” Wang Xiaomei replied with a slight nod.
“Alright.
I need highly skilled artists—preferably as many as possible.
Also…”
Lin Yuan began listing his requirements one by one, while Wang Xiaomei listened carefully.
After thinking for a moment, she said, “If it’s for game art, AI-generated work would be much cheaper.”
“Right now, the mainstream style in the Dragon Kingdom’s gaming industry is also AI-based.”
“Traditional art requires too much investment—it might be difficult to recover the cost…”
She spoke earnestly.
Although both she and the studio desperately needed a stable source of income, she didn’t want to hide the truth.
Still, if Lin Yuan chose to work with them after hearing everything, she would be genuinely happy.
“Let’s go with hand-drawn art,” Lin Yuan said.
As he spoke, he took several prepared illustrations out of his briefcase.
“Take a look.
I only want artists who can reach this level.”
Wang Xiaomei accepted the drawings and looked at them.
The moment she saw the first image, she froze slightly.
It depicted the opening scene of Genshin Impact, when the Traveler activates the first Statue of the Seven and the camera pulls back to reveal the entire valley.
A quiet, peaceful valley… vast forests… winding streams…
And in the distant sky, unknown birds soared.
The beautiful fantasy world instantly captivated Wang Xiaomei.