In the editor-in-chief's office at Harukawa Publishing, Editor Onizuka was being chewed out so hard his ears were ringing.
"You idiot! You should've figured out who you were up against before making a move!"
"Now look what's happened! You three just buried yourselves—and you've dragged the company into a disaster while you were at it!"
"I... I just wanted to—"
"You just wanted to stand up for your author?" The editor-in-chief sneered. "What's the point of excuses now? Losers don't get to justify anything."
"Tomorrow, report to the Kamakura branch. There's no place for you here anymore."
From star editor to exile in one sentence.
Onizuka's vision went black. He nearly fainted.
Meanwhile, the victors were celebrating.
Everyone who had stood by Seiji Fujiwara was now reaping massive rewards.
At Professor Munakata's home, the chair of the judging committee, crowds of readers and journalists had gathered outside his door.
"Professor Munakata, you've got the eye of a god! You're the one who truly upheld the dignity of literature!"
"You recognize talent beyond boundaries—that's the real spirit of the Ranpo Prize!"
The judging committee's prestige reached an all-time high. It became a new symbol of "merit over prejudice."
Kodansha, the official publisher, could barely contain its joy.
The first printing of After School—500,000 copies—sold out in less than five hours, breaking two million yen in revenue before noon.
Bookstores across Japan flooded Kodansha's distribution office with restock calls, their phones ringing nonstop.
That same night, Kodansha executives held an emergency meeting and made a bold decision.
"Reprint! Immediately—another 500,000 copies!"
The Japanese mystery market was huge.
Some bestsellers had hit five million copies before.
If Seiji hadn't been a rookie, they'd have ordered a million without hesitation.
Over at Fushikawa Bunko, they seized the opportunity and launched a marketing blitz.
"Want to know how the King of Mystery was forged? Read his other masterpiece—the fantasy epic A Certain Magical Index by the legendary Prince Warukawa!"
"Unbelievable! The mystery prodigy's debut was a darkly comedic gun-slinging novel—6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns! Dive into the mind of Seiji Fujiwara himself!"
The results were explosive.
Readers who had fallen in love with After School swarmed bookstores like pilgrims, clearing out every copy of A Certain Magical Index and 6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns.
For the first time ever, Japan's national bestseller list looked like this:
After School
A Certain Magical Index, Volume 2
A Certain Magical Index, Volume 1
6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns
Seiji Fujiwara had singlehandedly dominated the entire chart.
"One man, one list!" someone joked online—
and the phrase instantly went viral.
Fushikawa Bunko's marketing campaign was a total success. Their three titles skyrocketed in sales, pulling the whole company into a second golden age.
The entire light novel industry was ecstatic.
"Holy crap, brothers—we've got a saint now!"
"The old literary snobs always looked down on us. Now Seiji-sensei just crushed them with their own biggest award! That's gotta hurt!"
"From today, no one gets to say light novel writers can't go legit. Seiji-sensei is our idol and our pride!"
"Finally! I can say it loud—I'm a light novel writer!"
Readers who were obsessed with After School were now fanatically worshiping Seiji himself.
"I'm done. I give up. How can one person master two totally different genres at the highest level?!"
"After finishing After School and going back to Index, it feels like two different authors—and yet both are brilliant!"
"Seiji-sensei is a national treasure!"
"He's only eighteen! This can't be his limit!"
"We're witnessing the rise of a sun that'll never set!"
"For the next fifty years, every writer in Japan will kneel at Seiji Fujiwara's feet!"
A week after After School's release, Japan was still buzzing with the name "Seiji Fujiwara."
And inside his apartment, Seiji was feeling the weight of success—literally, in his bank account.
All royalties and prize money had been fully transferred.
The Edogawa Ranpo Prize's one-million-yen award was just pocket change.
The real fortune came from book sales—his royalties were like a printing press running nonstop.
As the prize-winning author, his standard royalty rate should've been 7%.
But Kodansha, eager to show goodwill, offered him the rookie maximum—19%.
With After School priced at 1,200 yen per copy and a total print run of 1.5 million copies, his pre-tax royalties reached a staggering—
1.62 billion yen.
Meanwhile, A Certain Magical Index and 6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns saw renewed sales under Fushikawa's banner, bringing in another 2 billion yen in income.
To strengthen ties, Fushikawa even covered the tax on those royalties, leaving Seiji with a clean 200 million yen take-home.
In the Fushikawa Bunko headquarters, Sonoko Machida stared blankly at the royalty report the finance department had just sent over.
The number at the bottom was so long it didn't even look real.
She counted the zeros again and again.
Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten-thousands… billions?!
"C-Chief..." Her voice trembled as she held up the report, her hands shaking uncontrollably.
Ryuji Aida looked up from his papers and smirked. "What's wrong? Shocked?"
"Th-this... two hundred million yen, after tax?!" Machida stammered. "And it hasn't even been a full month!"
She knew Seiji could make money—
but this was beyond belief.
It was like he'd turned himself into a 24-hour printing press.
Aida took the report from her, scanning the figures, his expression a mix of awe and respect.
"Get used to it, Machida," he said calmly. "With Seiji-sensei's talent, making money really is that easy."
At Fushikawa Group's top-floor boardroom, the atmosphere was electric.
The CFO stood at the head of the table, addressing the board.
"In summary, thanks to Seiji Fujiwara's explosive success, our projected quarterly profits will exceed last year's by more than 300%."
The entire room gasped.
Three hundred percent—
an impossible number for a corporation of their size.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
The chairman of Fushikawa Group smiled broadly, his excitement unrestrained.
He tapped the table decisively. "Effective immediately, establish the 'Seiji Fujiwara Special Task Force.' Ryuji Aida will lead it. Every department must cooperate fully—public relations, legal, security, whatever he needs. Treat every request with top priority."
He looked around the room, his tone firm.
"From this day forward, Seiji Fujiwara is the most critical strategic asset of the Fushikawa Group."
In Seiji's apartment, he lounged lazily on the couch, scrolling through an overseas shopping app filled with odd gadgets and novelty items.
Utaha Kasumigaoka sat beside him on the floor, neatly dressed in a maid outfit, quietly peeling grapes for him one by one.
When her eyes drifted over his phone screen, her face instantly flushed red.
On the display were various... adult accessories.
Utaha's hand froze midair, nearly crushing the grape between her fingers.
"Y-you..." Her voice trembled with anger and embarrassment. "You pervert!"
Seiji only smirked, unbothered. "What? Don't tell me you don't think this one would look great on you?"
"W-What are you even—!"
He chuckled, setting the phone aside. "Relax. Just a joke."
Utaha puffed her cheeks, glaring daggers at him—but couldn't bring herself to storm off.
After all, this was Seiji Fujiwara—the man who'd completely rewritten her world.
Finally, she sighed and leaned closer, her voice soft. "You're impossible, you know that?"
Seiji laughed quietly. "Takes one to know one."
Their banter, teasing yet strangely intimate, filled the room like a familiar melody—
somewhere between affection and provocation, indulgence and surrender.
Utaha's thoughts drifted.
What am I even doing…?
Somewhere along the way, I stopped fighting back.
And I'm not sure I want to anymore.
She exhaled, then leaned forward and brushed her lips against his—
a kiss that felt less like submission and more like acceptance.
Success had turned Seiji Fujiwara into the hottest name in Japan.
And the first to reach out for collaboration was his so-called alma mater—Toyonozaki High School.
In the principal's office, an elderly man with graying hair gripped the phone with trembling hands, surrounded by equally excited board members and teachers.
"H-hello? Is this Seiji Fujiwara?"
"Yeah. This is him. Good afternoon, Principal."
"Fujiwara-kun! Congratulations on winning the Edogawa Ranpo Prize!"
The principal's voice overflowed with pride. "The whole school is honored—everyone here is so proud of you!"
After a round of enthusiastic flattery, he finally got to the point.
"We were wondering if you'd be willing to give a talk for the students—something about 'dreams and perseverance.' Would that be possible?"
"Sure," Seiji said casually. "Just let me know when. I'll make time."
The principal froze. He'd expected resistance, even arrogance—but Seiji agreed without hesitation.
"T-That's wonderful! We'll arrange everything right away!"
As soon as the call ended, the principal slammed a hand on the table and shouted, "Fujiwara-kun said yes!"
"Fantastic!"
The entire office erupted in cheers.
The dignified old men of Toyonozaki High couldn't stop grinning like children.
The legend of Seiji Fujiwara had only just begun.
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You can read up to chapter 90 on patreon.com/NiaXD.