The next morning.
The doorbell rang at Seiji Fujiwara's apartment.
Editor-in-Chief Ryuji Aida and editor Sonoko Machida had arrived together.
The one who opened the door was, as always, Utaha Kasumigaoka.
"Machida-san, Aida-san." She gave a polite bow and ushered the two inside. Both were out of breath, faces tight with urgency.
"Where's Warukawa-sensei?" Machida asked anxiously as she slipped off her shoes.
"In the study," Utaha replied calmly. "Please wait in the living room. I'll call him."
"Thank you."
The two nodded, settling onto the sofa.
In their minds, Utaha wasn't just a neighbor—she was clearly Seiji Fujiwara's girlfriend. They were practically living together already, and she seemed to handle secretarial duties for him as well.
Because of that, both Aida and Machida treated her with polite respect. In a way, her attitude represented Seiji's own.
"Good morning, Aida-san, Machida-san."
Seiji walked out of the study, smiling brightly, a manuscript in hand.
"This is my latest work, After School."
He handed over two copies, one to each of them.
"Excuse me."
"Excuse me."
They exchanged a glance, then lowered their heads to read.
To work as an editor—even in light novels—meant they were literature graduates. And Fushikawa Bunko, being one of the top publishing houses just below the Big Three, only hired the cream of the crop. There was no question about their ability to judge quality.
The room fell quiet as they read.
But that quiet didn't last.
Their breathing grew heavier with each page.
By the time they reached the final word, both sat frozen, faces filled with shock. They couldn't speak for a long time.
It was brilliant.
Far beyond expectation.
The plot design, the character arcs, the social themes, the prose, the details—every part of it hit an astonishing level.
If Aida had to choose one word, it would be "perfect."
Absolutely perfect.
The manuscript was nearly flawless.
Hands trembling, Ryuji Aida set the papers down. He turned to Seiji, bowing deeply.
"I was wrong, Warukawa-sensei. Please forgive me. Allow Fushikawa Bunko to stand behind this masterpiece of mystery fiction!"
"Warukawa-sensei, your talent humbles me," Sonoko Machida added, bowing in admiration.
Utaha, standing nearby, stared wide-eyed, her mouth hanging slightly open. Were the two editors really praising it this highly?
"You flatter me. Please, stand."
Seiji helped them up, still calm. "But Aida-san, you mentioned Fushikawa giving this book its full support. I only asked for help submitting it. What exactly do you mean?"
The Edogawa Ranpo Prize wasn't something just anyone could enter. Though the contest claimed to accept open submissions, there were hidden requirements.
Without the backing of an editor in the mystery field or a known author's recommendation, most manuscripts ended up ignored. The judges didn't have the time to sift through every random submission—they needed filters.
Aida raised his head, smiling.
"I graduated from Kyoto University's literature department. Even if I mostly handle light novels, my literary training isn't rusty. And After School… is on a completely different level."
His tone grew solemn, even reverent.
"This manuscript has astonishing potential to win. It surpasses many past winners. Even without behind-the-scenes maneuvering, I'd give it a fifty percent chance at taking the prize."
Seiji arched a brow, intrigued. "I appreciate your faith. But with respect, what does that have to do with a light novel editor like you?"
"You underestimate yourself, Warukawa-sensei!"
Aida's eyes gleamed. He didn't bother hiding his intent.
"If this book wins, the name 'Seiji Fujiwara' will be forever tied to the highest honor in mystery fiction. Then—when we reveal that this prodigy is also Prince Warukawa, the new king of light novels—can you imagine the uproar?"
His voice rose with excitement.
"A genius at the pinnacle of two completely different fields! That's a story that sells itself. The sales of your previous works—6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns, A Certain Magical Index—would double, maybe even triple. The benefits for you, for me, for Fushikawa Bunko—they'd be immeasurable!"
As expected of Aida. His commercial instincts were razor sharp.
Seiji listened, then broke into a smile. "You've got vision, Aida-san. Bold and sharp. All right. I'll leave After School in your hands."
Aida blinked, surprised by the immediate agreement. Then he laughed, standing and extending his hand.
"Please trust me, Warukawa-sensei!"
"Haha, I do, Aida-san." Seiji clasped his hand firmly.
Watching from the side, Sonoko Machida's heart pounded. She felt like she was witnessing history in the making.
Utaha, too, was shaken—her eyes shone with complex emotion.
With Seiji's blessing, Aida and Machida hurried back to Fushikawa Bunko.
On the way, Aida called his superior, a company auditor, laying out the bold plan.
"Aida, you're being reckless," the man replied. But the recent success of Index II, especially how they'd ridden public opinion into a record-breaking hit, made him hesitate.
"I won't oppose Warukawa entering the Ranpo Prize. If he wins, it benefits us too. But using the company's full resources to back him? That's too big a gamble."
"Sir, you know I don't fight battles unprepared," Aida said firmly. "If Warukawa's manuscript weren't extraordinary—so extraordinary it could force the rules to bend—I'd never make this proposal."
Silence. Then the auditor spoke.
"…Do you have the manuscript with you?"
"Yes. I'm bringing it to the office now."
"Fine. I'll take a look for myself."
Aida's lips curved in satisfaction. He had him hooked.
Half an hour later.
Inside the auditor's office, the man flipped page after page, his brows furrowed tighter and tighter. Shock flickered in his eyes.
"The quality… it's terrifyingly high."
He leaned back, muttering, "Now I understand your boldness. But we're not mystery specialists. I'll need another opinion."
"Of course," Aida nodded. He'd expected that.
The auditor picked up the phone, dialing a direct line.
That afternoon, in a high-level meeting room, Fushikawa's executives gathered.
Among them sat an elderly man with graying hair and reading glasses, sharp-eyed despite his age. Every executive looked at him with anticipation.
He was a legendary figure in the field—a mystery author whose million-selling masterpiece had been adapted into a hit film. He'd even served as a Ranpo Prize judge six times.
"Shimizu-sensei, please," the auditor said respectfully.
"Mm."
Shimizu Nobuhiko had only come out of obligation. His face was impassive as he opened the manuscript.
But within ten pages, his expression shifted. His frown deepened. His gaze sharpened. And then—he forgot the room entirely, devouring the manuscript straight through to the end.
Bang!
He slapped the table with a thunderous crack, startling everyone.
Rising to his feet, body trembling with excitement, he raised the pages high.
"A masterpiece!" His voice boomed.
"A once-in-a-century masterpiece!"
"The trick construction reminds me of Ayatsuji Yukito! But the structure—better than most veterans! If this doesn't win the Ranpo Prize, then the prize shouldn't exist!"
Gasps filled the room.
The executives' eyes lit with joy. Instantly, every gaze turned to Aida.
"Aida… whatever you need, the group will back you fully!"
"That's right. We don't just want one Ranpo Prize. We want 'Seiji Fujiwara' to become a golden brand, like Osamu Tezuka himself!"
And so, as the massive gears of the Fushikawa Group began to turn for Seiji Fujiwara…
TVS Television aired a late-night literary talk show.
Under the studio lights, the host smiled warmly at the camera—and at the young writer seated across from him.
"Good evening, everyone! Tonight we're honored to welcome the 'Waseda Prodigy' himself—Tetsuya Nishio!"
Glancing at his cue cards, the host hyped him up with gusto.
"Nishio-sensei is truly remarkable. A graduate of Waseda University's literature department, he won the Mystery Writers Association's Newcomer Award at just twenty-one with his debut. He's the rising star of his generation!"
Nishio adjusted his glasses, smiling modestly. "You're too kind. I only have a shallow love for literature."
"Oh, come now, too modest! Many acclaimed authors have called you the most promising talent of the next decade. That's incredibly high praise!"
A flicker of pride crossed Nishio's eyes, though his lips still said, "It's simply the generosity of my seniors. I'm not worthy."
"Not only that!" the host grew more animated. "I hear your Ranpo Prize submission this year, The Wail of Nothingness, was personally approved in draft form by Onizuka—the editor infamous for his devilish strictness at Kodansha! Passing his eyes is proof enough of the quality!"
This time, Nishio only nodded with a quiet smile. But his poise and confidence radiated through the camera to every viewer.
The broadcast lit the internet on fire.
"Holy crap, that résumé's insane! Total chosen one!"
"Top school, praised by legends, approved by Onizuka? If he doesn't win, I'll do a headstand wash on stream!"
"Nishio-sensei's so humble too. Love him! I'm buying Wail of Nothingness the second it's out!"
"Ranpo Prize is locked already. Congrats in advance, Nishio-sensei!"
But within the industry, the mood was far more complicated.
At a small izakaya, several mystery authors who had also submitted to this year's prize gathered, watching Nishio's shining figure on TV.
"Ahh, Nishio again…" one sighed, downing his sake. "Being born in the same era as him is our curse."
"Yeah. His starting line is already our finish line." Another laughed bitterly, defeat plain on his face.
"Damn it! I don't accept this! My work's not inferior!" a younger author snapped, though his voice rang hollow.
Most simply stayed silent.
They couldn't deny it. Nishio Tetsuya was someone they could only look up to.
After the program, Nishio scrolled through the flood of online praise, the murmurs of awe from his peers only boosting his confidence. His smile deepened.
But no one knew.
In the evaluation stack for the Edogawa Ranpo Prize judges—
a manuscript titled After School had just been placed on the table.
---
You can read up to chapter 80 on patreon.com/NiaXD.