Kosaka Akane took the tablet, and the first thing that caught her eye was a blood-red image.
Dark, grimy blood oozed down from the top of the screen—or rather, it didn't flow so much as cling.
The thick, viscous texture looked so real that she subconsciously reached out to wipe the screen.
But before her hand could make contact, a line of text suddenly appeared and made her jolt in surprise.
"Kosaka Akane tried to cause trouble, but was stopped by... Hojou Kyousuke."
Alongside the text, an figure appeared—clearly modeled after her.
Matching the bloody aesthetic, herself looked disturbingly dark and twisted.
She was kneeling on the ground, her spine bent, backside raised.
Her black stockings were ripped all over, her mouth hung open in a daze, and her eyes were unfocused, staring blankly ahead...
Despite being depicted in such a humiliating pose, Kosaka Akane didn't react with anger.
In fact, her attention was completely seized by the artwork itself.
The sense of depth was flawless.
The blood almost seemed to splash out of the screen—like it was the frontmost layer—while her illustrated self looked like she was crawling out from a deeper, hidden darkness.
One foot was already swallowed by the shadows, creating the eerie illusion that something might reach out and drag the viewer in too.
The blood felt almost touchable—she could practically smell its metallic tang.
The darkness behind her was so deep it seemed capable of devouring a soul.
This wasn't ordinary manga art.
This was gallery-level work, the kind that wins awards on international stages.
Her breathing grew rapid as her eyes hungrily devoured the screen.
Color usage—yes, a sense of depth comes not only from composition, but also from exceptional color work.
That was perfectly executed in this piece.
The rips in the black stockings showcased both texture and narrative—tattered from mistreatment, coated in dust.
The tears looked so realistic she felt she could reach out and tear them wider, exposing more of the pale skin underneath.
The character illustration? Absolutely masterful.
That vacant gaze—drained, chaotic—instantly made one wonder: What did this woman go through?
No one understood the power of a good cover better than Kosaka Akane.
Even without a single word of description, she would buy this piece on the spot just for the cover alone.
And if she would, what about the otaku crowd?
They'd throw money at it even if it turned out to be a cooking show inside.
The only critique was that the title was a bit short.
Otherwise, flawless.
But—there's no way this could've been done in just ten minutes!
Kosaka Akane bit her lip and glanced up at Hojou Kyousuke, then tapped the screen to view the rest.
A good cover might sell, but true masterpieces are judged by their content.
'What if... just maybe... the inside was nothing but some silly 4-panel gag strip...'
She couldn't shake that thought, even though she knew it was impossible.
For Kasumigaoka Utaha to speak with such confidence?
No way it was a joke.
And based on Hojou's track record, he wouldn't do something that cheap.
The screen changed—yet again, the next page was a beautifully rendered full-color spread!
This time, it showed the Akane sitting in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window, legs crossed, half her body cloaked in shadow.
Her expression exuded confidence and control—like a queen with fate in her grasp.
Not only was her character flawlessly drawn, but the background wasn't neglected either—every chair, desk, staff member working in the office, even the scenery outside the window.
She racked her memory... and froze in shock.
The view outside the window—it was identical to what she had seen that very morning at her company!
Suddenly, that grotesque, bloody cover flashed in her mind again—her eyes went red, overwhelmed.
That unfocused stare, the dangling tongue, the defeated posture—it all rushed at her, filling her mind until there was no room to breathe.
A crushing pressure gripped her chest, like someone was squeezing her heart in their fist.
Yes, it's common for doujin in Japan to use real-life locations as references—for budget efficiency, audience immersion, sponsorships, and regional promotion.
Even she followed this approach when greenlighting new projects.
But she had never seen something like this before.
It felt like she was staring into another version of herself.
Or perhaps... her future self.
Thankfully, the character's outfit was different—it was what she had worn for a magazine interview: a white blouse and tight black skirt.
Not what she had on today.
That tiny detail brought her back from the edge.
This art... it was terrifying.
Work like this didn't belong here, just tossed into a casual presentation—it should be saved for the most pivotal, emotional moments of a story, where it could elevate everything around it.
'Hojou Kyousuke...!'
She looked up again—eyes wide, like a newborn seeing the world for the first time.
Her gaze shimmered with shock, fear, and disbelief.
She wanted to ask if this was really something that could be done in just ten minutes.
Her heart screamed no. Her logic told her no.
But everything she knew about Hojou Kyousuke whispered... maybe he actually could.
And more importantly, before she ever put her plan in motion—Hojou had never even met her.
There's no way he could've prepared this comic in advance.
So, she kept reading.
Everyone else around the room had been watching her reaction closely.
Aside from Aki, who kept sneaking peeks from the side, the others all wore proud expressions.
'Heh! Now you've witnessed the power of my most loyal assistant!' Eriri thought, puffing up with pride.
'You think just anyone gets to have Eriri as their manga helper?'
She tilted her chin up and let out a smug little snort.
Her face was full of gloating satisfaction—her expression was arguably even more dramatic than Kosaka Akane's.
She still remembered how shocked and crushed she felt when she first realized how much Kyousuke's art had improved.
She had felt useless. Despairing.
Like all the talent in the world had been poured into him, and all she could do was look up at him from below.
But of course, even a genius like Kyousuke had only reached this level because she taught him!
He had said it himself—without the guidance of the world's greatest artist, Eriri, he never would've improved so fast.
Which meant, together—she and Kyousuke were invincible!
Kasumigaoka watched Akane's expression and felt a deep satisfaction.
'Keep being amazed,' she thought.
'After all, once you join Kyousuke's team, you'll need to get used to being overwhelmed by his brilliance.'
'If you faint every time, how's he supposed to squeeze every last drop out of you?'
Kosaka Akane's reading pace was surprisingly slow—shockingly so, given how fast-paced her life usually was.
Aki Tomoya had once survived being grilled by the company president over project manga.
He never took more than thirty seconds per page—and delivered critiques like tidal waves.
His notes came so fast that the assistants couldn't keep up and had to resort to recording everything to play it back and revise accordingly.
Right now, the reigning queen of the manga industry—Kosaka Akane—whose very gaze could make a trembling rookie's knees give out, was wearing an utterly entranced expression.
It was as if she'd been completely conquered by the work Hojou Kyousuke had whipped up in just ten minutes.
'He's incredible.'
'No wonder Eriri and Kasumi Utako are always at his side.'
'Only someone with this level of peerless talent could ever hope to keep up with such a genius artist and a prodigious author.'
Aki Tomoya thought this from the bottom of his heart, his eyes burning with desire as they shifted toward the tablet in Kosaka Akane's hands.
'I need to see it. Hojou-sensei's new work—just what kind of jaw-dropping masterpiece is it?'
As a genius herself, Kosaka Akane possessed an extraordinary level of focus.
She was completely oblivious to her surroundings, completely unconcerned with how her current expression might make her look like a desperate loser.
All she wanted was to keep reading, to keep diving deeper into Hojou Kyousuke's story.
The entire piece was only eleven pages long, but the visuals, the storytelling—it was all there.
A complete world, born fully formed.
The story opened in a seemingly realistic setting, modeled after her own plan to sabotage Carbonated (Tansan).
But from there, it took a wild turn.
Instead of the refined, aristocratic version of Kyousuke currently sitting at the interview venue, the manga's Kyousuke had immediately gathered his men and surrounded her house the moment he heard about her scheme.
He kicked down her heavy steel front gate, slashed open her bedroom door—and dragged her to the underground chamber of the Carbonated company.
Without hesitation, he bound her ankles with thin white nylon ties, then strung up her arms so that only the tips of her toes could barely touch the floor.
And then… he expressionlessly pried open her mouth and forced her to chug five liters of cola.
[TL Note – Wtf...]
She begged for mercy, the soda spilling from her nose and eyes, soaking through her white shirt and black stockings—yet he remained completely unmoved.
Cold and merciless, he shoved the bottle back into her mouth and kept pouring. And pouring. And pouring…
…That was where the story ended.
The plot was simple, yet it hit all the marks—revenge, eroticism, violence.
It was thrilling, pulse-pounding, and somehow managed to skirt every content regulation cleanly.
'Genius.'
This could easily pass as an all-ages work—and sales would instantly triple!
Kosaka Akane screamed internally, the name "Hojou Kyousuke" multiplying in weight and impact within her heart.
"This is the real you, isn't it!" She raised the tablet high and shouted:
"Your work reflects the deepest corners of your soul! Someone as insanely talented as you should be this wild and unrestrained!
You're reckless and I'm obsessive—we're a perfect match!!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Eriri shouted back. "Don't confuse fiction with reality, you damn otaku!"
What do you mean "deepest desire"? Like hell she wanted any of that.
'You're the last person qualified to say that,' thought Kasumigaoka Utaha with an amused gleam in her eyes.
Though in truth, she agreed with Kosaka Akane.
After all, wasn't that why she created stories too?
If you weren't pouring your heart into it, what else was keeping you going?
Creators are people who devour their own dreams just to keep moving forward.
Well said, Kosaka Akane.
"Exactly," Kyousuke replied smoothly. "That's why you should hurry up and fold Mars into Carbonated. We've got the Vice President position waiting just for you."
He smiled at her.
It felt incredibly satisfying to use his own hard-earned talent to win over both Eriri and the once-idolized Utaha-senpai and now even the industry's queen, Kosaka Akane.
Especially that feverish, borderline seductive look in her eyes—nothing fires a man up quite like that.
Conquering the world? Please.
Conquering a woman especially one who already rules the world is far more exhilarating.
What? Got it backward?
No, this is the shortcut.
Wanting to conquer the world is for edgy teenage boys.
A real man knows: the rush of pinning down a woman who's already conquered the world herself is something no empire can compare to.
Ahem.
Sensing Utaha's cool stare beside him, Kyousuke quickly dialed back his grin.
'Not that I was talking about Kosaka Akane, of course.'
He had always been focused on raising Eriri into the world's best artist, and Utaha into the greatest novelist—cultivating them, and then eventually claiming them.
That was the plan: to be the man behind the world's strongest women.
"Stop saying stupid things," Utaha said coldly, her voice as proud as ever. "But admit it—this piece was leagues beyond your own work."
Standing behind such a powerful man, even someone like Kosaka Akane had to bow her head.
That feeling? Utaha could get used to it.
Men and women really were strange, weren't they?
"…Hmph."
Kosaka Akane slowly stood up, her intense gaze softening slightly with a rare touch of femininity.
"I'll admit the art and story are top-tier. But saying it completely outclasses me? That's pushing it.
Give me one month, and if I pour my entire soul into it—I could create something on the same level!"
Three hours of sleep a day. Pouring everything into the project like it were her last breath—she could do it.
"Heh~ so that's how it is…" Utaha smirked, about to retort—but was cut off.
"And who told you…I was even trying my best?" Kyousuke's tone remained calm, the smile on his lips unchanged, his voice cool and even.
"Ten minutes. On the train. On the way here. You say you're living in a rush but my time is far more valuable than you realize. You have no idea what your interruption cost me."
"The politeness I showed you? That wasn't weakness. It was the result of my upbringing.
Now, stop pretending. Listen to your heart and admit defeat."
Looking at the poised, striking young man before her feeling the crushing confidence radiating from his very presence—Kosaka Akane's smile vanished.
Her hand dropped limply, the tablet brushing against her nylon-covered thigh.
The cold touch of the device startled her, and it was then she understood:
Unless she beat him fair and square, face to face—she'd never surpass him.
Any backdoor schemes or half-measures would only insult him.
After a few seconds of silence, her lips curled into the same manic, overconfident grin she had worn when first strutting into the interview hall.
"Tomorrow at 9 AM, Kosaka Akane and Mars will publicly announce across all media that we've lost—to Carbonated, and to Hojou Kyousuke!"
She never once mentioned the word "sorry."
After all, why should she apologize for something that had brought her so much joy?
That would've been downright rude.
Kyousuke had shown her respect—so she would return it in kind.
'You want to be famous? Fine. Let's see if you can handle it.'
Fame doesn't just bring attention.
It also inflates expectations to outrageous levels.
And once the spotlight is on you, every little flaw in your work gets magnified under a digital microscope—again and again and again.
'Will it become a masterpiece… or a punchline?'
Let's find out, Hojou Kyousuke.
You, Kashiwagi Eriri, and Kasumi Utako—let me see just how far you can go.
"Alright," Kyousuke replied without a hint of hesitation, his voice calm and steady.
Utaha stood beside him, smiling with satisfaction.
Eriri, though slightly confused, couldn't help but light up with joy upon seeing Kosaka Akane apparently willing to apologize even if she hadn't said the word directly.
"This was a pleasant meeting," Akane said. "I look forward to working more closely with you all in the future."
She returned the tablet to Kyousuke and extended her right hand.
Eriri opened her mouth as if to say something, hesitated, then held her tongue.
Only after the handshake was over did she proudly tilt her chin up and address Kosaka Akane with a smug grin:
"This wasn't some casual 'meeting,' you know. This was Tansan's recruitment interview."
"And now, I'll announce the results—Kosaka Akane, you're rejected! You're still far from qualified to join us!"
'Learn some manners first and seriously, stop making workplace harassment your thing.'
Eriri wrinkled her nose.
Sure, she had to admit that Akane's provocation had helped her realize just how determined she could be but she wasn't like Kyousuke, who could brush things off so easily.
In her mind, the only proper response was to either bury that woman in her backyard or at the very least, kick her out the front door.
"Heh~"
Kosaka Akane let out a soft chuckle, but didn't argue.
She knew her place as a loser.
Giving a small nod to the trio before her, she turned and headed toward the door.
"Wait, what? That's it?!" Aki Tomoya gaped, completely dumbfounded.
'He hadn't even gotten a chance to see Hojou-sensei's new work yet!'
No—wait, that wasn't the point right now. What really mattered was:
"Eriri! What's gotten into you?! No matter how you look at it, joining Mars is the best choice!"
"Just like President Akane said you haven't made any real progress in years! Worse, you've been dragging down Hojou-sensei and Kasumi Utako-sensei with you!"
"Joining Mars, where you could grow under the guidance of better artists and writers—that's what you should be doing!"
Aki Tomoya stepped forward, desperate, pleading with his former childhood friend.
He knew Eriri's abilities better than anyone.
She had worked her way up solely through relentless practice—without that, she wouldn't be where she was now.
But under Kyousuke's protection, she'd clearly become complacent.
Even Hojou-sensei and Kasumi Utako-sensei were likely being held back because of her. That much, he was sure of.
Eriri had always been the kind of girl who got distracted easily.