Chapter 9: A Publishing Company (1)
Chapter 2 hit the market like a divine event.
A total of
4,000 copies
were printed. An additional
1,000 copies
of Chapter 1 were re-released alongside it.
Within a week—
Every single one sold out.
Bookstores ran dry. Street vendors were mobbed. Guards had to be stationed outside merchant stalls just to keep order.
Nobles bought multiple copies—not because they needed them, but because they wanted to
show off.
"I have the first AND second Chapter in hardcover," one lady bragged at a tea party. "Oh, I had mine gold-leafed," another sneered."My cousin had it framed," one baron said smugly.
It wasn't just literature anymore. It was
status.
But it wasn't only nobles.
Rich peasants, rising merchants, even city officials—people who had never spent a gold on anything but land or livestock—were fighting to get a copy.
In some towns, entire
villages pooled their money
just to buy a single copy for everyone to read together in the square.
Children huddled around elders who read aloud. Adults cried in silence as
Erien's tragedy
unfolded before them. Mothers held their sons tighter. Fathers whispered,
"I would've protected her too."
This wasn't just a story anymore.It was a
phenomenon.
And with it came a name—whispered, shouted, written, and remembered:
Sam Avencroft.
The peasant who wrote it. The mysterious author with no noble title, no grand family name— And a story that had captured the hearts of an empire.
The name Sam Avencroft was no longer unknown. It was on the lips of every noble, every merchant, every scholar—
And soon... it would reach even higher.
* * *
"Hey, GTP," I asked, arms crossed as I looked out the window of my room.
"How much money do I have right now?"
[Processing current financial data... Based on revenue from Chapters 1 and 2, including reprints, noble-exclusive editions, and international interest from merchant districts...]
[Total Net Worth: 7,300 Gold Coins.]
"...Seven thousand... three hundred?"
[Correct.]
I blinked.
"Holy sh— That's... that's A LOT."
More than I'd ever dreamed of.
More than I'd ever
needed.
I'd already given the first 1,500 gold I earned from Chapter 1 to my parents.
The look on my father's face—
Pure disbelief.
Like he'd won the gods' lottery and got kissed by destiny on the same day.
And honestly?
He deserved it.
He was the first one to believe in me.
My first supporter.
My first investor.
He funded the first stack of paper that became
Titanheart Chronicles.
I smiled just thinking about it.
"...Alright," I said, cracking my knuckles. "So what now?"
[Recommendation: Establish your own publishing company.]
I blinked. "Wait, really?"
[Correct. Creating your own operation will allow full control over printing, distribution, labor, security, and production speed. Current reliance on Lord Halven for logistics is inefficient long-term.]
"Yeah... you're right," I muttered. "I can't keep riding Halven's coattails forever."
[Affirmative. Initiating phase two: Independent Manga Empire.]
I threw on my cloak, grabbed my pouch, and stepped outside into the bright afternoon sun.
"Let's go shopping."
A few hours later...
I stood in front of a large, two-story building just outside the merchant district.
Stone foundation. Wooden structure. Solid roof.
Big enough for press machines, workers, storage, and even a small showroom.
The seller, a sweaty old merchant, handed me the deed with trembling hands.
"This place is yours, sir... I-it's an honor to do business with Sam Avencroft."
I signed it without hesitation.
* * *
The machines were humming.
Ink was flowing.
Workers were rushing around, organizing papers, cleaning rollers, checking bindings.
My company was alive.
Inside my office on the second floor, I leaned back in a real leather chair—not hay, not wood, but leather.
The window gave a full view of the production floor below, where
20 printing machines
churned out pages like clockwork.
The place no longer looked like a dream.
It looked like a real company.
My company.
Avencroft Publishing.
Lord Halven, the noble who'd backed me from the start, was still part of the operation—but now he was focused only on
distribution
.
I handled everything else.
And with our current speed?
We could print books
ten times faster
than before.
I grinned. "GTP... we should go all in. Sell
way
more this time."
[That would be a bad idea.]
I blinked. "...What?"
[You're thinking like an artist. Think like a businessman. Too much supply lowers demand. Lower demand means lower price. Lower price means less value.]
I sat up, listening.
[We'll print only 100 copies of Chapter 3. Limited edition. Premium packaging. Each copy: 10 gold.]
"...Ten? That's ten times more than before."
[Exactly. People will fight for it. Nobles will kill to say they own it. Scarcity creates status.]
I raised an eyebrow. "And after that?"
[Once Chapter 4 is released, we push an additional 1,000 copies of Chapter 3 to the market. But by then, the value has already been set.]
I leaned back, arms behind my head.
"...Supply and demand, huh?"
[Basic economics. High demand, low supply, maximum profit.]
I chuckled.
"Guess you're right."