031. Erina Aki’s Final Suggestion
During the break after the first period, Jiang Yu, who had been preoccupied with the idea of "apologizing," was ready to turn around and continue his unfinished apology to the unremarkable girl the moment the bell rang.
But then he noticed Megumi Kato, who seemed to have already fallen asleep, her head resting on her desk.
A smile flickered across his face, and Jiang Yu abandoned his intentions. In truth, such vague and inexplicable words would never linger in Megumi’s heart, would they?
So, just how much do you trust Megumi Kato, protagonist-kun?
Shut up and let me write properly!
After a friendly negotiation with this unknown inner voice, Jiang Yu took out that stack of original illustrations, preparing to carefully revise the character designs and the European-style castle that served as their backdrop.
It was a quirk left over from his past life as a game developer. Always striving for perfection, Jiang Yu would incessantly tweak his work to best express the images in his mind.
Back then, even after having settled on a character design and completing the models on his computer, he would, on a whim, overturn everything for the sake of some minuscule detail or a sudden flash of inspiration.
It wasn’t much of an issue when working solo on indie games, but if he were to collaborate with others, he’d undoubtedly seem meddlesome...
Jiang Yu thought uncertainly. He at least recognized that his pursuit of perfection in games could be so extreme as to become unbearable for others.
That’s why he wasn’t suited to being a character designer or scriptwriter; a completed work might be entirely scrapped due to one of his sudden ideas.
This was also the reason that, despite having the chance in his previous life to achieve his dreams with the few friends he had, he ultimately chose to go it alone.
With a faint sigh, Jiang Yu focused his attention on the drafts in his hands, preparing to make some appropriate adjustments to the characters and settings according to his own vision.
The morning slipped past quickly. Jiang Yu hardly left his seat except to use the restroom; as for the apology he’d been meaning to make, it was forgotten.
Fortunately, the person in question was Megumi—otherwise, Jiang Yu, you’d be in for a rough time, let me tell you.
At lunchtime, some students took out their lunch boxes, while others hurried out, heading for the cafeteria or the school shop.
Jiang Yu stood, stretched his body, made a fist with his right hand, and lightly knocked on his spine, letting out a lazy yawn.
He was about to buy lunch when two breads and a carton of milk appeared before him, and someone gave his shoulder a pat.
“…Runya?” Jiang Yu turned, surprised to see his friend.
“No need to thank me. We still have unfinished business from this morning,” Runya Aki said with a casual wave of his hand, his eyes earnest. “To save time, I bought lunch for you.”
“Uh… alright, but what else is there to talk about?” Jiang Yu scratched his head in confusion.
Runya responded with an expression of exasperation, raising his voice, “Shouldn’t you pay more attention to your own affairs? The light novel publisher! Have you made up your mind?”
“Hm… If all else is equal, then Undying River, I suppose,” Jiang Yu replied offhandedly after a moment’s thought.
“Can’t you take this a bit more seriously, you blockhead?” Runya said, utterly helpless.
“Huh… Weren’t you the one who suggested Undying River in the first place? I considered the ‘Big Three’ of light novel publishers, but ruled them out since they haven’t held newcomer awards lately. As for the other first-rate publishers, I don’t know much about them. Since you say Undying River is fine, I trust you,” Jiang Yu said, giving Runya a look full of trust and optimism as he patted his shoulder.
“Ah, Yu… Thank you!” Runya’s face took on a comically touched expression.
“Runya… With that look, you’re making an uncomfortable truth very obvious, you know?” Jiang Yu deadpanned.
“Huh? What do you mean, Yu?” Runya asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Sigh… It’s about you being a hopeless otaku.”
“Eh—? Well, it’s not like I ever tried to hide it. Honestly, if I can make more people love the two-dimensional world, that’s my greatest happiness!”
“But seeing you, most non-otaku people will probably think worse of us, don’t you agree, Runya?” Jiang Yu’s retort was as sharp as ever.
“Hey—! Yu, have you been taking lessons from Utaha-senpai? Is ‘how to master sarcasm’ the subject?” Runya replied with a wry smile.
“Ahh, but I just remembered something, Yu,” Runya said, slapping his forehead seriously, “What about the sequel to ‘My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected’?”
“That’s what you’re worried about?” Jiang Yu, who had thought Runya was about to bring up something important, couldn’t help but sigh.
“So? Is there more, Yu? Besides, you can’t submit unless the first volume is complete, and what you had yesterday wasn’t nearly enough!” Runya rubbed his hands together, a little impatient.
“Yes, there is, but it’s on my home computer. Do you want to see it?” Jiang Yu said, amused by Runya’s eagerness.
“Hmm… No, no, I’d better wait. As a true member of the otaku tribe, I must wait until publication and buy the first batch to read!” Runya looked as if he was dying of curiosity, but still refused with determination.
“You really are the purest form of otaku, Runya,” Jiang Yu was at a loss for words.
“I told you, I never intended to hide my otaku side,” Runya suddenly smiled with a trace of sadness.
Jiang Yu was taken aback and, looking closely, saw that the sadness had already vanished from Runya’s face, as if it had never been there at all.
Was it just his imagination? Jiang Yu wondered inwardly.
At that moment, Runya spoke again, “Oh, right, Yu, Undying River’s newcomer award starts this weekend. If you want to submit, you’d better hurry.”
“This weekend? Doesn’t that mean I have a ton to do?” Jiang Yu touched his brow with his index finger, looking troubled.
He truly hadn’t expected Undying River’s newcomer award to start so soon, and both in his past life and this one, he was unfamiliar with the specifics of how light novel publishers in this country ran their newcomer contests.
Runya, as if reading Jiang Yu’s mind, continued, “Yeah… But I heard that this time, to stir up buzz, Undying River will post a section of each entry online for readers to vote on. With the extra publicity, the judging period will be shorter, too. Online rankings will affect your chances of winning.”
“So, the earlier you submit, the longer your work will be available online, and the better your chances,” Jiang Yu said, focusing intently.
“Exactly. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Editors will do an initial screening and score each work on character, plot, style, and originality. Still, even with scores as a reference, it’s the quality of the light novel that truly decides who stands out. In the end, the publisher will consider both online performance and editors’ opinions to select the grand prize, silver prize, and recommended works.”
“That’s why I’m certain your light novel will achieve great results, Yu,” Runya concluded with a confident smile, as if sealing the verdict.