After finishing the talk about the dinner party, Kyousuke stuck around to chat a bit with Osaka Gou, who was busy planning his new novel.
Apparently, his wife wanted a baby, so he needed to buckle down and make so serious money.
"This ti I'm thinking of writing sothing lighter. I'll base it on you—a college dropout cursed with ridiculous luck with won.
Everywhere he goes, girls cling to him, and he gets dragged into bizarre cases.
So he travels around solving mysteries, collecting beautiful won's hearts along the way, until he fulfills his grand dream of spreading his seed across the world."
Osaka Gou spoke over the phone with fiery enthusiasm.
After observing Hojou, he'd co to a conclusion:
Writing serious, traditional novels was a dead end.
The real moneymaker was fanservice.
Add a pinch of violence, a touch of murder, and a whole heaping spoonful of beautiful won—boom, the perfect novel.
Sure, other writers might look down on him for it, but from another angle?
Soone who survived the cutthroat world of literary fiction would absolutely dominate in the light novel industry.
And with Hojou's help in promoting the book every few days, it would more than make up for all the favors he'd done for him over the years.
Who knows? Maybe he'd even end up surrounded by hordes of gorgeous fangirls, just like Hojou. Now that was the dream.
The more Osaka Gou thought about it, the more excited he got, rambling on about his planned storyline.
"First, the protagonist must have been top of his class throughout high school. He joins the kendo club and the baseball team, single-handedly carrying those loser squads all the way to the nationals.
Then he storms into Tokyo University as the number one student in the country, finishes all his credits by his sophomore year, and takes a leave of absence to 'train.'
When he walks out the school gates, the place is deserted because everyone's co to see him off—upperclassn, underclassn, the whole lot.
The ground is wet with their tears.
His first stop after leaving school is…"
Osaka Gou paused, then suddenly asked:
"Hey, Hojou. Among all those girls around you, which one did you et first?"
Already dumbfounded, Kyousuke fought back the urge to kick him and muttered:
"Wait a second—you're seriously going to write as the protagonist?"
"Of course. I told you already! How about I even list you as a co-author? We'll split the royalties fifty-fifty—but only if you admit it's based on your real-life experiences." Osaka Gou chuckled.
"Yeah, right. Why don't you write about your own experiences instead? Like, I don't know—'The Gentleman's Guide to Visiting Brothels.'
Teach innocent boys how to sneak into high schools and won's colleges just to check out pretty girls.
You can even debate the rits of school swimsuits versus bikinis, or old versus new gym uniforms. That book would definitely sell."
"Damn, even I'm tempted by that idea. But I'm not planning on divorcing my wife anyti soon."
"You an you're scared she'll beat you to death," Kyousuke teased.
"Scared? That's not sothing you can say between husband and wife, you brat…"
Osaka Gou, struck right in the weak spot, started muttering under his breath like he was chanting a prayer.
Kyousuke guessed it was the sa mantra he always used to comfort himself after being chewed out by his wife.
"Ah! I rember now—the first one was that Yamauchi girl, right? Childhood friend, wasn't she? Man, you're lucky.
Okay, it's decided! The protagonist's first stop after leaving school is his hotown. He wants to start from the very beginning… and then he discovers—"
'Beep.'
Before his bran got corrupted Kyousuke hung up on the spot.
That guy was hopeless—completely lost in his delusions.
The next notification ca from Shimomura Tetsuya, his editor.
The mont the ssage popped up, Kyousuke imdiately closed the app.
'I didn't see that ssage. He never sent it.'
'It's all the fault of this shit app and shit network.'
But just as he was stomping on his conscience and strangling his brilliant brain to delete the mory, his phone rang.
The caller ID read: Editor-in-Chief Shimomura.
Kyousuke shut his eyes in agony.
He wanted to keep playing dead, but his trampled conscience suddenly perked up.
"…Yes?" he answered reluctantly.
"Hojou! You saw my ssage, didn't you?! Why didn't you reply? Don't you dare pretend you didn't! Where's that high school detective manga we agreed on?
I've already arranged the pages for it! If we can make the top three in the reader surveys for three consecutive issues, I can even push for a cover spot.
So where's the first chapter? Hand it over, now!"
Shimomura didn't even bother with a greeting—just unleashed a storm of rage.
Hearing that makes Kyousuke groaned.
This was why he wanted to ignore it.
Nowadays, whether it was Attack on Titan or One Punch Man, their updates had slowed to a crawl.
He wanted to either take a hiatus or just end the damn thing already, but the magazine flatly refused.
That's why Shimomura kept pressuring him for new work, even going so far as to bribe him by arranging the perfect voice role for Shouko.
"I'm drawing it, I'm drawing it…" Kyousuke mumbled halfheartedly.
A manga artist who doesn't miss deadlines isn't a real manga artist.
He hadn't understood that before, but now he was a seasoned pro.
Compared to other veterans who spent all their ti gambling, honeymooning, or hanging out in maid cafés, he was practically a model of diligence.
Just the other day at the Eishuu Publishing headquarters, Kyousuke had even witnessed an editor arguing with his author.
The reason? That manga artist had beco obsessed with reading other people's manga.
He was so desperate to see the next chapters that he actually beca an assistant for another author—happily inking shadows every day, grinning like a two-hundred-pound child, while completely neglecting his own series.
The editor had cried over the phone.
He looked so hysterical Kyousuke honestly worried he might jump out a window—or maybe strangle that traitorous "lost in paradise" author instead.
After all, the guy's biceps looked strong enough to crush rocks.
Thinking of that, Kyousuke suddenly felt worried Shimomura might throw himself out a window too.
So he quickly added, with extra conviction:
"Seriously! I'm drawing it!"
"Oh, you're drawing it? Then send what you have right now." Shimomura wasn't buying a word of it.
He just finally catching Kyousuke red handed, he had no intention of letting him slip away.
"It's not finished yet… at least let complete a whole chapter first…"
"What about the character designs? Last ti you said the protagonist would drink so magic tea that turns him from a high schooler into an elentary schooler.
Surely you've drawn his designs for both versions by now? As your editor, it's my job to review those." Shimomura pressed harder.
"Wait, wait, wait—are you seriously suggesting I don't even have the character designs done? After all these years working together, you still don't trust ?" Kyousuke gasped in mock shock.
"I did trust you—before you turned into the King of Delays. And I heard from Doumu Animation that you've only shown up to one production eting so far.
You're not just ditching ; you're ditching them too. If this keeps up, your industry nickna is going to change from 'All-Rounder Hojou' to 'Never-Seen Hojou.'"
"Ahem, ahem… It's not like I'm the only key animator, you know. The animation director hasn't even assigned tasks yet, so how could you say I'm ditching? Saying that's like…"
And just like that, Osaka Gou's mysterious "comfort mantra" started pouring out of Hojou Kyousuke's mouth.
"Hojou, I'm honestly worried. What if next Christmas you're still drawing this year's draft? If you turn into that kind of person, as your editor.
I'll be nailed to the industry's pillar of sha. My na will be used as a cautionary tale for every rookie editor who just joined the field.
Just imagining that scene makes think I'd be better off dead.
But… I can't rest in peace without seeing Masao get married and have kids.
By the way, wasn't it Masao who first introduced to your work?
If he found out that his idol turned into… this, it would crush him. It's all my fault.
I'm such a useless father, I can't even do my own job properly. You know what, Hojou? I've already gone bald because of you…"
Shimomura Tetsuya's voice cracked, grief pouring out of every word until it turned into sobs.
Kyousuke's scalp tingled, a wave of guilt creeping in despite himself.
"Ahem—no, really, it's finished! The mont I hang up, I'll send it over!" he blurted.
"Really?"
"Really, really. Hanging up now!" Kyousuke shivered; the wounded tone on the other end had given him goosebumps.
The second the call ended, he grabbed his tablet and started sketching at lightning speed.
It might sound unbelievable, but he was actually the president of a perfectly legitimate animation company.
Tools at the ready was standard practice.
He was no longer the rookie who once struggled to even draw an egg-shaped head.
In just five or six minutes, Ran Mouri, Shinichi Kudo, and Conan Edogawa's designs appeared on the screen.
All the while, his phone kept lighting up—Shimomura spamming him with a "death call" barrage of unanswered rings.
"Phew…"
Exhaling deeply, Kyousuke studied the finished designs, nodding in satisfaction.
'Not bad. I could totally switch to drawing shoujo manga.'
His version of Ran wasn't the demon-horned, headbutting monster who could send playboy Shinichi flying into the stratosphere.
Instead, she had the elegant hairstyle from the early chapters of the manga—the sa chic, refined look as the beautiful Kudou Shizuka.
A gentle image like that contrasted perfectly with her occasional outbursts of raw power, making for stronger character developnt.
As for Conan, he didn't look like a bobblehead.
He actually looked like… a normal kid.
After double-checking everything, Kyousuke packaged the files and sent them to Shimomura.
Three seconds later, his phone rang.
This ti, confident as ever, he picked up right away.
"Well? I spent a long ti finalizing those designs."
His conscience had already been wrung dry by picking up the call earlier, so now his tone was shalessly righteous.
Sitting in the driver's seat, Hirata Toshitaka listened in and silently felt one hundred and twenty thousand degrees of admiration for his boss.
"…This doesn't feel right. Ran's not recognizable enough—you can't tell she's the heroine at a glance."
Hearing that Kyousuke froze.
He'd been preparing a whole round of modest remarks, but Shimomura didn't even give him the praise he was expecting.
"Huh? Where exactly is the problem? What do you suggest?"
For once, he asked sincerely.
He might have an entire world at his back, but he wasn't arrogant enough to think he was flawless.
As a copycat artist, he'd always been cautious and diligent.
Whether it was One Punch Man or The Devotion of Suspect X, he had relied on advice from more experienced people—naly, Eriri and Utaha.
Drawing on their experience, patching up his weak points—that's how he'd managed to "borrow" his way into success.
"In reality, Ran's hairstyle is beautiful, and even your drawing is beautiful. But as a manga character, it doesn't work." Shimomura's tone was dead serious. "If you sharpen that arc, make it more striking—don't you think that would help?"
Kyousuke felt a loud crack in his chest.
"Or better yet—what if you just made it into a triangle? A girl with a sharp triangular horn on her head—no one could ignore her.
Everyone's eyes would go to her first. Of course she'd be the heroine.
And it would also signal to readers that she's not as soft and gentle as she looks on the surface…"
Listening to Shimomura's impassioned words, Kyousuke felt a sense of absurd revelation.
So that's how the Demon-Horn Queen was born?! Shimomura, is this your idea of aesthetics?!
"…Also, why'd you draw the shrunken protagonist's head so small? Kids are already small and easy to overlook.
If you give him a tiny head too, readers will have a hard ti focusing on him. A bigger head adds cuteness.
And I assu his interactions with the heroine are going to be a key selling point, right? Making him cuter will massively boost the story's appeal."
Shimomura went on and on, while Kyousuke's eyes got wider and wider.
"…And if we're changing the heroine's hairstyle, why not tweak the protagonist's too? Give them a matching vibe—more of a couple feel."
"Editor Shimomura," Hojou finally cut in.
"Hm? What?" Shimomura paused mid-flow.
"You're not just saying all this to get back at for missing deadlines, are you?"
"Hah?! What the hell are you talking about? These are professional editing insights!
Are you doubting the judgnt of a man who clawed his way up from lowly assistant editor to editor-in-chief?
After all these years working together, you don't trust even this much?!"
Feeling a sense of deja vu make him silent for a mont. Then, softly, he asked:
"…Tell , do you know soone nad Gosho Aoyama?"
"Who? Your chauffeur?" Shimomura asked blankly.
"Mm… strictly speaking, more like my patron saint of fortune."
Relieved, Kyousuke made a ntal note: soday he'd build a shrine for all these generous authors who unknowingly beca gods in another world. Follow current novᴇls on novel✦fire
"Anyway, forget the nonsense. What do you think of my suggestions?" Shimomura pressed.
"…I'll try revising them."
After that he hang up the call, Kyousuke raised his tablet and got to work.
Three minutes later, staring at the couple with matching demon horns and their bobble-headed child, he fell into speechless silence.
Reviews
All reviews (0)