Tokyo: The Manga Begins with the Funeral of Frilian

"The 30-year-old salesperson remembered someone."

Yuma Kamiya spoke, his voice calm.

"He buys comics not to watch the fights, but for the emotions conveyed in those few centimeters."

Ryota Onodera held a cigarette between his fingers and said, "Takahashi said at the morning meeting today that the initial print run of 30,000 copies of the single volume will definitely become waste paper piled up in the warehouse. He suggested cutting the print run to 8,000 copies, and treating it the same as ordinary newcomers."

"What is the editor-in-chief's opinion?"

Kamitani Yuma asked, "The editor-in-chief said to wait another week, and make a decision after the survey data for the second week comes out."

Ryota Onodera stubbed out his cigarette in the portable ashtray, and ash splattered onto the table, which he wiped away with his hand. "Eight thousand copies, damn it, eight thousand copies, that's more than half gone."

"Senior, could I have all of those forty-odd letters you mentioned?"

"Kamiya Yuuma asked."

"It was originally yours."

Ryota Onodera stood up and patted off non-existent dust from his suit trousers.

"The results of the second week's survey will be released next Monday. If the ranking does not improve, the first print run of the collected volume will be reduced. Frillian will not be canceled. No one dares to touch a work personally guaranteed by the editor-in-chief. However, a reduced first print run means reduced royalties, reduced publicity resources, and everything else. You know this in your heart."

He tidied his briefcase, glanced at Shiori Shirakawa's retreating figure in the kitchen, and said, "Oh, right."

"Um?"

Kamiya Yuma responded.

"Submit the manuscript by Friday."

"understood."

"Don't push yourself too hard."

Ryota Onodera went to the entrance to change his shoes. "I'll create a good opportunity for you."

.........

By the third week...

Yuma Kamiya began to realize that weekly serialization and newcomer award submissions were two completely different things; the newcomer award only required twenty pages of illustrations.

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Just put all your energy into it and draw it to the best of your ability.

The weekly serialization is nineteen pages per week. Once one chapter is finished, the deadline for the next chapter is already waiting on the calendar.

His body was still able to hold up, so he worked on applying black ink, adding halftone dots, and painting the background.

He did the work of three people and didn't miss a single deadline for three weeks. When Ryota Onodera called to urge him to finish the manuscript, he had already sent it out by express delivery.

But on Wednesday of the fourth week, he got stuck on a two-page spread. The image was of Frillian and her apprentice on a mountain road after the rain, with a cluster of unidentified white flowers blooming by the roadside. The background was an entire hillside, and each flower needed to be rendered with halftone dots to create a gradient of light and shadow.

He finished drawing the figures and foreground, but then he put the halftone dots on the background on and then tore them off, repeating this process three times.

When Shiori Shirakawa got up to get a drink of water in the middle of the night, she saw that the light in the master bedroom was still on.

She pushed open the door and saw two pages of original manuscript spread out on the drawing table. Kamiya Yuma was holding a torn halftone dot sheet and a craft knife in her hand, and the wastepaper basket was full of crumpled halftone dot sheets.

"What time is it now?"

Baihe Shizhi asked.

It's two o'clock.

Yuma Kamiya answered.

"He told me during the day that he would go to bed according to his schedule."

Shiori Shirakawa said somewhat helplessly, "Yuma Kamiya put down his craft knife and said, 'The halftone dots in the background aren't done well. This flower needs to have the effect of sunlight shining through the gaps in the clouds after rain. If you scrape it too lightly, it won't have any depth; if you scrape it too heavily, it will look fragmented.'"

Shiori Shirakawa walked to the drawing table, looked down at the two pages of original manuscript. The flower bushes on the hillside were only half finished, the other half was still a pencil sketch, and the torn halftone paper was piled up at the corner of the table.

Each one was just a little short of success. She stood by the table for a while, looking at them, and said, "This one, can I give it a try?"

Yuma Kamiya looked up and asked, "Do you know how to use a craft knife?"

"Scraping away halftone dots isn't like drawing a storyboard. It's just scraping away the parts of the halftone dots that you don't want, right? Teach me once, and I can do it. I got an A in my art class."

After she finished speaking, she put the water glass on the table, walked over and moved a chair to the side, placing it in front of the drawing table. There was only one chair in front of the drawing table, and the one she moved was dragged from the kitchen and was shorter than the drawing table.

Once seated, my line of sight was perfectly aligned with the original manuscript.

Just as Yuuma Kamiya was about to speak, a light screen suddenly appeared before his eyes, displaying:

[High-intensity serialization triggered]

[Branch 1: Feeling sorry for the beauty, I let her go back to sleep, and then forced myself to work up a sweat. Reward: 3 Energy Potions.]

[Branch 2: Activate the "couple team" mode, personally teaching her basic assistant work. Reward: A god-tier comic toolkit (an extremely handy pen tip and screentone cutter), and three excellent storyboards for the following chapters.]

Kamitani Yuuma didn't look at the first option and chose the second one directly.

"I'll teach you how to hold the knife first. Scraping halftone dots is different from doing crafts in art class. The blade should be flat, and you should use the belly of the blade rather than the tip. You should apply even pressure. If you go too fast, you'll tear the halftone paper, and if you go too slow, you'll leave rough edges."

Shiori Shirakawa picked up the craft knife from the table, flattened the blade as instructed, and asked, "Is this okay?"

"Lower it a bit more."

Kamiya Yuuma stood up, walked behind her, bent down, and reached out his right hand from behind her to grab the hilt of the knife she was holding. Shirakawa Shiori froze.

Her shoulder rested against his chest, his breath coming from above her head.

It was steady and regular, much more stable than the sound of her own breathing.

"Don't grip too tightly; keep your fingers relaxed and use the strength of your wrist."

Shiori Shirakawa relaxed her grip slightly, and Yuuma Kamiya took her hand in his.

He pressed the tip of the knife against the screen printing paper and said, "First, scrape the edges. The edges of this flower patch should gradually change from dark to light. Leave three layers in the dark areas, one layer in the light areas, and remove two layers in the transition areas. Look here..."

With one of her hands, he gently traced a line on the halftone paper.

The black dots will gradually disappear.

It left behind a uniform layer of ash.

"Did you feel it?"

"ah..."

She spoke a little louder than usual.

After clearing his throat, he returned to normal.

"That's the feeling. The edges should be lighter, and the color should become lighter as you go outwards, until it all turns white."

Kamiya Yuuma released his grip and said, "Go ahead and give it a try."

Shiori Shirakawa took a deep breath and placed the blade on the halftone paper.

The first cut was very light, and almost no dots were scraped off; the second cut was too heavy, and a small corner was torn.

"It's broken."

She seemed very disappointed.

"It doesn't matter, just leave some blank space next to the flower bushes."

Kamiya Yuma comforted her.

She made a third cut, this time with just the right amount of force.

The dots disappeared evenly under the blade, leaving a very light gray layer.

It blends seamlessly with the patch that Kamiya Yuma just scraped, leaving no visible trace.

"May I?"