Iori Setsuna made no move to shake Kousaka Kyousuke’s hand.
She sized him up with a glance, utterly unimpressed.
The little manga artist’s elder brother, was it?
At that age and in those clothes, judging by looks alone he didn’t even appear as mature as Kousaka Kirino.
Yet he carried himself like he was an adult.
Had he overheard something and come to demand justice for his little sister?
“One after another, all of them such a pain.”
Iori Setsuna clicked her tongue with a sharp “tch.”
“Unrelated persons being let into the company just like that.
Did you bring him in?”
She ignored Kyousuke entirely and instead glared at Hayakawa Rumi, who stood behind him.
The professional attire and the name badge pinned to the other woman’s chest told her this was someone from the neighboring light novel editorial department.
“Um…
Editor Iori, this gentleman is a light novel author our department is about to sign, the winner of the Newcomer Gold Prize, Mr.
Kousaka Kyousuke.
He is by no means some unrelated person.”
If this were any ordinary day, and Rumi had been subjected to such a harsh line of questioning from a senior, she would most likely have bowed and apologized by now.
But not today.
A serious expression surfaced on her face.
If this were an internal matter of the manga department, she truly wasn’t qualified to interfere.
But the discourteous way the other party spoke about the author under her care — that genuinely upset her, deep down.
‘Sigsawa-sensei clearly saw his own sister being bullied, and yet he still conducted himself with courtesy.
Yet, such kind of composure was met with nothing but disrespect.
Kadokawa’s standard of business etiquette ought to be better than this.’
Rumi thought this to herself, though her actions still carried a hint of trepidation.
After all, if the other woman went to Editor Hattori and lodged a complaint about her being disrespectful to a senior, it could land her in serious hot water.
“And so?
That’s your reason for bringing someone into the manga editorial department?
What business does a novelist have here, if not being an unrelated person?”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t see this just this once.
Hurry up and take him away.
I still have a great many matters to attend to and no time to deal with children.”
Iori Setsuna walked straight past Kyousuke without so much as a glance at him.
Gold Prize winner?
As if light novels made anywhere near the money manga did these days.
She had a good grasp of the pecking order.
She was about to be promoted to deputy editor-in-chief.
And this was nothing more than a rookie author.
She had Kousaka Kirino completely under her thumb.
The contract had been signed long ago — a done deal, the lid sealed on the coffin.
Not even the author herself could change anything now, let alone this relative who had popped up out of nowhere.
Hearing this, Rumi was so angry her chest heaved.
An apology.
Even if she had to take this all the way to Editor Hattori, she would make this woman apologize!
Who was she calling an unrelated person?
She was just an editor who had joined a few years earlier.
How could she be so utterly dismissive?
Rumi raised her voice.
“Sensei is not some unrelated—”
“Are you a child as well?” Iori rubbed the philtrum beneath her nose, looking thoroughly exasperated.
“If I recall, your managing editor is Hattori, correct?
If you have a complaint, have him come find me.
You’re not qualified for this!”
“You—!” Rumi couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to block Iori’s path, but Kyousuke stopped her.
“Sigsawa-sensei…”
“Heh.
It’s fine.” This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Seeing Iori’s overbearing attitude, Kyousuke didn’t get angry.
He simply spoke toward her retreating back:
“Editor Iori, I’ve heard that while an author who signs a solicited manuscript contract loses out on copyright income, that same contract’s binding power over the author is equally limited.
Isn’t that right?”
Iori Setsuna stopped in her tracks and turned back around, now taking a proper, appraising look at the young man before her.
She also reached over and pulled the conference room door shut.
“What exactly are you trying to say?” Her attitude still hadn’t changed, but her words now carried a probing edge.
Kyousuke shrugged.
“Nothing much.
Only that if Kirino’s manga were to fail to reach a proper conclusion, it would probably have a considerable impact on its commercial value.”
This kid knows the industry.
Iori Setsuna felt a jolt of alarm and glanced up at Rumi, standing off to the side.
“Are you planning to encourage Kirino to cause trouble for me?
You ought to realize that halting serialization or delivering a botched ending reflects just as poorly on an author’s reputation.”
Communicating with a fool wasn’t hard, and communicating with a smart person was equally effortless.
The moment Iori Setsuna realized Kyousuke had an understanding of solicited manuscript contracts, she immediately formulated a counter.
“I have no intention of interfering with Kirino’s decisions.
But the children of the Kousaka household have backbone.
I imagine my sister is worried that halting serialization would sadden her true fans.
Perhaps a temporary hiatus would also be a fine choice.”
“Impossible!”
Iori shot back at once.
At Kadokawa Pictures nowadays, anime and manga were inseparable.
More often than not, when an anime adaptation began, the manga had yet to conclude.
The story of “Lunar Witch Transformation” had already entered its final phase.
If it went on hiatus due to the author, the manga would fall behind the anime’s production schedule.
When that happened, she, as the managing editor, would be held accountable.
Is this bastard planning to take me down with him?
Inwardly, Iori Setsuna had already cursed Kyousuke to hell and back, but outwardly she had no choice but to rein in her coldness.
She forced a smile onto her face.
“I’ve always thought very highly of Kirino.
That’s why I pushed past all objections to support her.
You have to understand, for a newcomer’s work to even be proposed for an anime adaptation is an incredibly rare thing.”
“Every manga artist pours their heart and soul into their work.
She should want this work to have a good ending, shouldn’t she?”
Kyousuke smiled.
This editor — he had her cornered now.
A hiatus, in truth, wasn’t much different from halting serialization outright.
The difference lay in giving advance notice.
Just like with novel serializations, authors would request breaks and stop updating.
Under a normal contract, such a break might be very brief — a few days, a week at most before updates resumed.
But a solicited manuscript contract had no explicitly stipulated time frame.
Which meant the hiatus could go on indefinitely.
“You’re not wrong.
But it would only be a hiatus.
Or we could simply wait until the anime stops airing and then resume serialization.
That wouldn’t be such a big deal, would it?”
Kyousuke spoke in an easy, unhurried manner.
No.
Absolutely not!
At the current pace of the anime’s broadcast schedule, new manuscript pages had to be submitted before year’s end.
This boy was no ordinary person.
Far more difficult to deal with than Kousaka Kirino.
She couldn’t afford not to be nervous.
“Lunar Witch Transformation” had brought her a shot at promotion — practically a done deal internally.
But she still had to wait until year’s end, when it would be formally announced at the general meeting.
If a blunder of this magnitude occurred, it would most certainly have repercussions.
He had struck her where it hurt most.
“What do you want me to do?”
Iori Setsuna forced the words out.
It was, in its own way, an act of backing down.
“Didn’t Kirino already make her demand clear?”
“That’s impossible.
Ask for something else.”
Iori Setsuna could not agree to that condition.
Amending the contract would inevitably cause the company to question her competence.
This was something that had never been done before.
Far too many issues were tied up in it.
“Then there’s nothing more to discuss.
Let’s go, Editor Hayakawa.”
Kyousuke spread his hands indifferently and gestured to Rumi.
Rumi, who hadn’t interjected at all, her eyes blinking rapidly, obediently prepared to follow him out of the conference room.
“I can put in a request to raise her per-page manuscript rate.
Double it, how about that?
Doubled!
Applied retroactively to all the pages she’s drawn so far!”
Seeing this, Iori Setsuna spoke up in a rush.
“That won’t be necessary, Editor Iori.
I believe Kirino’s demand was expressed clearly enough.”
Kyousuke didn’t even look back.
Iori Setsuna reached out and grabbed Rumi by the arm, as if clutching at the very last straw.
“Editor Hayakawa!
Does the light novel editorial department truly intend to stand by and let this situation unfold?
We may be separate departments, but generating profit for the company is our duty.
The author you’re in charge of is threatening me.”
She had already cast aside all concern for maintaining her dignity.
Words like these, coming from her own mouth, were tantamount to stirring up conflict between the two departments.
Rumi looked at her with something approaching disbelief.
“Editor Iori, do you even understand what you’re saying?”
She gazed at her with utter seriousness, her expression more solemn than it had ever been.
“Help me persuade him, and I’ll put in a good word for you with Editor Hattori.
I also know your department’s editor-in-chief.
Once I’m promoted to deputy editor-in-chief, I’ll have access to the company’s upper management.
I’ll bring you up with me.”
Iori Setsuna realized her previous words had been inappropriate and hastily corrected herself.
Rumi didn’t even have to think about it.
She refused outright.
What a joke!
She, a rookie, had barely managed to secure the personal designation of a Newcomer Gold Prize author, earning herself the chance to be promoted to managing editor.
And now Iori wanted her to apply pressure to the very person to whom she owed her gratitude?
Rumi brushed the woman’s hand off and followed closely on Kyousuke’s heels as he left.
“Wait for me, Sigsawa-sensei.”
Iori Setsuna felt all the strength drain from her body.
She staggered and collapsed to the floor.
What was this?
She’d offered them so many benefits and they still weren’t satisfied?
Did they really have to go down taking her with them?