Chapter 79: Publisher Eyes

Chapter 79: Chapter 79: Publisher Eyes

The first publisher email arrived at 6:14 AM.

Haruki discovered it at 8:02.

Which immediately improved his mood.

Two months ago he would’ve refreshed his inbox every ten minutes.

Progress.

Actual progress.

The sender belonged to Yamashita Publishing.

The same company from the finalist interview.

The message remained professional.

Short.

Careful.

Interest in future discussions.

Compliments regarding Threadless Gate.

Potential opportunities after tournament completion.

Nothing concrete.

Which somehow made it feel more real.

People promising the future usually had no power.

People discussing possibilities often did.

Haruki read the email twice.

Then closed it.

The Chapter came first.

The habit still felt fragile.

He didn’t trust it completely.

A year ago, the email would’ve consumed the entire day.

Now Chapter Twenty occupied the monitor.

Ren finally located proof.

Real proof.

Not rumors.

Not leaked records.

Not fragmented evidence.

Original Bureau directives.

The kind of documents powerful organizations buried.

The kind of documents that changed stories.

Haruki began drawing.

At 9:27 AM, the system interrupted.

Creator Achievement

Industry Interest Level Increased

Reward:

150 CP

Debt Collection:

60 CP

Received:

90 CP

Remaining Debt:

182 CP

Haruki stared.

The debt hurt more now.

Not because the amount increased.

Because the rewards did.

One hundred fifty became ninety.

Three hundred became one hundred eighty.

The system wasn’t taking numbers.

It was taking possibilities.

The emotional difference mattered.

Good.

Readers needed to feel that.

Haruki certainly did.

The phone buzzed.

Mizuno.

He answered immediately.

"Good morning."

"No."

Wonderful.

Apparently greetings remained optional.

"What?"

"The publisher email."

Of course.

Editors somehow learned things before the people involved.

"The answer is maybe."

Haruki blinked.

"What question?"

"The one you’re about to ask."

A pause.

"Don’t commit to anything."

Another.

"Don’t reject anything."

Then:

"Keep writing."

The call ended.

Typical Mizuno communication.

Three useful points.

Zero emotional support.

By noon, Chapter Twenty had reached its midpoint.

Ren.

Miyu.

Shiori.

All three finally possessed meaningful agency.

A huge improvement from earlier Chapters.

Miyu pushed for immediate publication.

Shiori wanted verification.

Ren wanted certainty.

The disagreement created movement.

Nobody stood around waiting for answers.

Everyone wanted something.

Good.

Very good.

The story breathed easier now.

A message interrupted the flow.

Akari.

I got approached by two publishers.

Haruki smiled.

Congratulations.

A pause.

Then:

They’re terrifying.

That sounded accurate.

Very accurate.

The conversation continued.

Not about contracts.

Fear.

Expectation.

Pressure.

The strange feeling of becoming visible.

Haruki understood immediately.

Because the visibility felt exciting.

It also felt dangerous.

Being ignored hurt.

Being noticed created responsibility.

The industry expected things.

Readers expected things.

Publishers expected things.

Those expectations eventually became weight.

The conversation ended when Akari returned to work.

A healthy outcome.

Creators who stayed productive survived longer.

At 4:00 PM, the finalist promotional rankings updated.

Industry Interest

Aoi Fujimura

Haruki Amamiya

Akari Sato

Kenji Watanabe

No surprises.

Aoi remained the favorite.

Naturally.

The guy treated productivity like a competitive sport.

Haruki almost respected it.

Almost.

The apartment door opened shortly after six.

Yui arrived carrying takeout.

The smell filled the room immediately.

Haruki looked up from the manuscript.

Then froze.

Yui noticed instantly.

"What?"

Something had changed.

Nothing dramatic.

No haircut.

No new clothes.

No obvious difference.

Just confidence.

The new job.

The interview success.

The future.

Something settled inside her.

Not certainty.

Direction.

A subtle difference.

A meaningful one.

Yui sat beside him.

Opened the food containers.

Then pointed toward the screen.

"How’s Ren?"

The question felt normal.

The answer didn’t.

"Better."

Yui smiled.

"You sound proud."

Haruki considered denying it.

Didn’t.

Because he was.

Ren finally felt like the protagonist.

Not because he won.

Because he chose.

The distinction changed everything.

Dinner continued peacefully.

No tournament discussions.

No publisher anxiety.

No conspiracy theories.

Just food.

Conversation.

Life.

Halfway through the meal, Yui’s phone buzzed.

A message appeared.

She read it.

Paused.

Then smiled.

Not a polite smile.

A genuine one.

"What happened?"

Yui looked up.

"First training assignment."

The excitement in her voice arrived immediately.

Haruki smiled.

Because that was the real victory.

Not interviews.

Not offers.

Movement.

Forward movement.

Later that night, after Yui left, Haruki opened the final tournament page.

Aoi Fujimura.

The last opponent.

The creator everyone expected to win.

The creator who probably expected it too.

Haruki looked at the rankings.

Then closed the page.

No analysis.

No predictions.

No anxiety spiral.

Just work.

The final would happen.

The publishers would watch.

The industry would judge.

Tomorrow’s Chapter still needed drawing.

That fact remained wonderfully unchanged.

And for the first time since entering the tournament, Haruki genuinely believed that if he lost, he would still be okay.

A strange feeling.

A healthy one.

One that made the coming final far more dangerous than before.

Because now he wasn’t competing out of fear.

He was competing because he wanted to win.