This piece was created based on the “Plastic Water Sect Madman” character from VALORANT.

From an aesthetic standpoint, it’s a game‑prop model; yet from a design perspective, it functions more as an experiment in “pure 3D‑printed structure.”

The entire project minimizes reliance on traditional hardware components, instead employing mortise‑and‑tenon joints, interlocking mechanisms, pins, self‑locking structures, and elastic printed parts to form a complete mechanical system. Components such as the magazine and bolt carrier are fully movable, preserving both visual fidelity and the interactive fun that comes with mechanical functionality.

I’ve always believed that the true appeal of 3D printing lies not merely in producing an object, but in making what was once a complex manufacturing process accessible and tangible.

Consequently, during the design phase, I devoted considerable time to exploring how to replace screws, springs, and other conventional fasteners with printed parts; how to simplify assembly; how to ensure compatibility across a wide range of printers; and how to transform the model into something that can be not only displayed but also handled, examined, and even played with.

For adults, this may simply be a model.

But for many children, a model that moves, disassembles, and reveals its internal structure often serves as the most direct gateway to the world of mechanics.

As kids, we loved taking toys apart to discover why they worked; we marveled at how snaps locked things together; and we delighted in tinkering with seemingly simple yet ingeniously designed mechanisms.

Many interests in mechanics, engineering, and creation begin precisely with such curiosity.

That’s why, when participating in this year’s “Play with Your Kids” initiative, I didn’t submit the original model directly. Instead, I re‑examined and refined certain sharp edges, softening corners and details to make the piece more child‑friendly—hoping it would become an ideal collaborative project for parents and children alike.

I hope parents and children can work together to print, sort parts, assemble the model, and explore why these mechanisms function as they do.

There may be challenges along the way—perhaps a small part doesn’t fit, forcing a restart—but it’s precisely these moments that turn “completing a piece” into a shared memory.

Of course, I’d like to emphasize one point:

Whether real firearms or model replicas, they should never be reduced to mere toys.

They symbolize not just power, but responsibility.

Respecting power, honoring rules, and prioritizing safety—all these values far outweigh the physical object itself.

Thus, the message I wish to convey through this work is less about “weapons” and more about creativity, mechanics, engineering, and a sense of responsibility.

If, in the future, a child begins to develop an interest in mechanical systems after assembling this model; if they’re inspired to learn design by studying these connection methods; or if they simply remember the person who helped them bring the model to life—then, to me, this project will have achieved a meaning far greater than the success of the print itself.

After all, what truly deserves to be cherished may not be the finished piece sitting on the table.

It’s the sound of the printer running, the patience spent searching for parts, the joy of completing that final assembly step, and those precious moments spent creating something together.