The cursor blinked on the laptop screen as if impatient.
Akame held the coupon code in her hand for a few more seconds: a rectangle of thin paper, smelling of ink and cheap paper, freshly torn from the magazine insert. For a moment, she almost gave up.
This was so much work.
She had been buying Red Violet Literature publications for years. She followed series, collected editions, complained about rushed endings, defended new authors in discussions no one asked for, and yet she rarely used that reader voting system.
After all, accessing the official website and entering a serial number was incredibly tedious. Most of the time, Akame preferred to simply read and be done with it.
But today was different.
She had finished the first chapter of 'Ao Haru Ride', carefully closing the magazine as if it were something fragile, and stared at the ceiling of her room for a long time, feeling that rare sensation of being truly touched by a story.
It wasn't just "nice."
It wasn't just "promising."
It was the kind of beginning that squeezed a specific place in her chest. A place she didn't always remember existed.
Only when she found a romance that truly touched her, like today, did she engage in these activities.
That's why, despite her laziness, she took a deep breath, opened her browser, and typed in the website address. The interface is loaded with the same design as always: autumnal tones, a burnt red reminiscent of momiji leaves at the end of November, and rotating banners with covers of popular series.
Firstly, Akame knew that a large part of the evaluation of the success of a romance's serialization in these periodicals came from the statistics of online reader votes. If a serialized novel consistently received low numbers in that area, along with extremely low reader ratings, it would be forcibly canceled by the publisher. To prevent this from happening to 'Ao Haru Ride', she concluded that every vote counted and would certainly support it.
Red Violet Literature used those statistics as an essential part of deciding the fate of its published series. The number of online support votes, the average rating, the comments… everything went into the editorial report. And when a work fell far below expectations for weeks in a row, the cut came without mercy: cancellation, rushed ending, "early termination" disguised with an apology paragraph.
Akame didn't want 'Ao Haru Ride' to even come close to that risk.
Secondly, after completing all these steps, she could leave a comment for the author of 'Ao Haru Ride', "Mizuki Ito", as a reader.
She typed carefully, deleting twice when she made a mistake and mentally complaining, as always.
The page is loaded. The list of works from the latest issue of the publisher's weekly magazine, which circulated in major bookstores, convenience stores, and newsstands downtown, from Tokyo to Osaka, appeared. Next to each title was a voting button, the average rating, and a space for comments.
Akame scrolled until she found what she wanted.
'Ao Haru Ride'.
Then she clicked. The vote was registered.
Akame wasn't the type to "talk to authors" as if she were close friends. She didn't follow everyone on social media, didn't send messages, didn't have that obsessive fan energy. But she believed in one simple thing: when someone gives you something that makes you feel something, the least you can do is acknowledge it.
She typed slowly, thinking about how to write without sounding exaggerated.
"Go, Mizuki-sama! Keep writing! I love this novel, I'm rooting for you!"
She read it again, satisfied. It wasn't too poetic. It wasn't too cold.
After finishing all that, Akame finally felt satisfied and temporarily free from the story of her 'Ao Haru Ride', and began to eagerly await Sunday.
Only then did she realize she was smiling.
That story had made her remember things she hadn't remembered in a long time.
Akame closed her browser and looked at the magazine on the bed. The clock showed late afternoon. Outside, the sky was beginning to darken early, as it does in winter in Yokohama, and the lights of the buildings were turning on one by one.
Her comment, along with thousands of others, was recorded in Red Violet Literature's internal system. An author only had to log into their contracted account to see what readers were saying.
Ren, if he opened the panel, would see that message.
He would see "I'm rooting for you" and "write truthfully."
There was a time, many years ago, when this kind of feedback was collected in an almost romantic way. Real letters, envelopes, stamps. Readers writing by hand, spending money to send praise or criticism.
But romanticism didn't pay the bills, nor did it fit with the editorial rush.
The method was slow, expensive, and above all… rare. Out of ten thousand readers, perhaps one hundred bothered. Most people read, liked, or hated it, and moved on with their lives.
But times have changed, and physical book publishers have naturally followed this evolution.
After improving channels for collecting reader feedback and through deliberate promotion and guidance from the publisher, they cultivated a fan base for the novel and its creator.
In the end, it worked.
Basically, about one-fifteenth to one-tenth of the magazine's readers happily participate in this voting. This percentage increases even more if the quality of the novel is exceptionally high. It's like fans idolizing celebrities.
Therefore, starting this Wednesday morning at 9 a.m., after the distribution of the latest editions of 'Momentary Blossoms' and 'Red Violet' throughout the province...
In the Red Violet Literature editorial office, several editors accessed the system to check reader feedback on the novels under their supervision.
In the common area of the newsroom, a group of editors gathered, chatting animatedly, and of course the main discussion revolved around the serialized novels in the publisher's flagship magazine, 'Red Violet'.
The editors didn't pay much attention to serialized novels in magazines with sales of only tens of thousands of copies.
"Hey, the novel I'm editing seems to be doing very well, according to the data."
"(Sigh), it looks like 'Black Angel' will probably be canceled. For four consecutive weeks, the number of reader votes has been below 400, and the novel's rating has dropped to 4.8."
Someone made a sound of pain.
"4.8 is a death sentence," commented one editor, stirring her tea. "Red Violet readers don't forgive."
"The subsequent plot fell apart, there's nothing we can do. That's how serialized novels are. Eight or nine out of ten of these novels end up being criticized by readers. Only one in ten manages to maintain a consistent level of quality from beginning to end."
"The novel I'm editing seems to be doing very well." "But the author of 'Black Angel' is quite hardworking. He noticed the drop in sales of the novel a long time ago and has been working hard in the last month..."
"He's been having trouble sleeping, racking his brain for plot ideas, trying to save his reputation. The last time I visited him, he was under so much pressure that he even had a nosebleed while writing, but in the end, it was in vain. (Sigh)."
The silence that followed was short, but dense.
That was an industry that smiled a lot, sold dreams and, behind the scenes, swallowed people.
"Just working hard isn't enough. Writing novels also requires talent. 'Red Violet' is our publisher's flagship magazine, and readers are very demanding of the serialized novels published there. Even a small drop in quality results in a sharp drop in readership. (Sigh), learn from this experience."
"Next time, don't let the author get carried away by the plot and carelessly sacrifice the female protagonist. If you had been more careful with Chapter 14 of 'Black Angel,' popularity wouldn't have plummeted so drastically."
"I read it and was angry," the editor admitted. "It's not death itself. It's the feeling that the author did it to shock unnecessarily."
It was the kind of conversation that happened every week. The editors talked amongst themselves, as the workday was drawing to a close and there wasn't much else to do.
Until a voice interrupted the conversation.
"Wait a minute... take a look at the data for 'Momentary Blossoms'."
At that moment, someone suddenly said,
"What is it?"
The editors clicked on the relevant data on the administrative panel of the 'Momentary Blossoms' magazine on their computers.
After a few quick glances, everyone realized something was wrong.
"Wow... 9.2?"
"'Ao Haru Ride' has a 9.2 in the first chapter?" someone repeated, as if it were a typo.
"Readers who bought the magazine have already given 'Ao Haru Ride' 2045 votes. That puts it in fourth place among the thirteen serialized novels in 'Momentary Blossoms', but a 9.2 rating? That's something!"
The table was filled with murmurs.
Medium-quality novels published in 'Momentary Blossoms' generally have reader ratings around 7.0. Only truly excellent novels, recognized by readers, will have ratings above 8.0.
"Wow, that's impressive! With readers being so demanding these days, a debut author's first work, the very first chapter, already gets this kind of rating?"
"That's a bit of an exaggeration. Will this novel be a hit?"
"Or it's manipulation," someone said, just for the sake of saying it, but their own voice didn't seem to believe it.
The voting system had limitations based on a code linked to the physical purchase. It wasn't impossible to cheat, but it was difficult enough to avoid being the first conclusion.
"This is only the first chapter of the serialized novel. If it still has this rating after the novel is finished, it will be truly incredible."
"You can't say that. A good start is half the battle!"
"And it's not just 'Ao Haru Ride', but also 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars'. It received 1233 reader votes, placing seventh out of thirteen novels, and also had a reader rating of 8.1. These two teenage authors are truly impressive."
"Two high school authors, right?" someone remarked, somewhat impressed.
The group began to chat over each other, with that energy of people who sense something rare.
Firstly, a newly serialized novel, especially by a debut author, will inevitably have fewer readers than established authors whose novels have been serialized for some time.
Therefore, a newly published novel in a magazine, competing with other published novels, will usually come in last in terms of online reader support votes.
Based on these editors' previous experience, a new serialized novel in 'Momentary Blossoms' received only two or three hundred reader votes for its first chapter, sometimes even less than one hundred.
Not that there was a huge difference in the readership compared to other novels.
This type of voting is essentially the readers' choice for the best serialized novel in the magazine. Therefore, although many readers may like a particular novel, if it's not their favorite, they won't vote for it.
To win these reader votes, most editors need to wait patiently, anticipating the unfolding plot of the novel and the emergence of exciting scenes before seeing a significant increase in votes.
Therefore, it was normal for a new series to grow over time, when the plot gained consistency, or when the author delivered an absurd chapter, or when a scene became a topic of discussion in forums.
But what intrigues these editors is that:
Both 'Ao Haru Ride' and 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' are performing very differently from their previous experiences.
After only half a day of publication, 'Ao Haru Ride' has already accumulated more than two thousand reader votes, currently occupying fourth place among the serialized novels in the same issue as 'Momentary Blossoms', while 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' has also surpassed one thousand votes, currently occupying seventh place.
"And the rating is the scariest thing, because ratings are relatively stable. If ten thousand people give it a nine, when it becomes one hundred thousand it doesn't change that much. You might drop a little, but you won't plummet if the base is genuine."
"Of course," an editor raised his hand, always realistic. "It's only the first chapter. If the story gets worse, the reader will drop that rating in two seconds."
Of course, the final statistics only consider the data from the first 24 hours of publication, that is, the data up to 9 am tomorrow. But basically, if the ratings remain the same now, they shouldn't fluctuate drastically until tomorrow morning.
Furthermore, both novels not only have a large number of votes, but also high reader ratings.
Reader ratings for novels are quite objective and fair.
Then the editors turned their attention to the name of the editor responsible:
Miyuki Hime.
As if, suddenly, that person had pulled a winning lottery ticket out of thin air.
It's no wonder that Miyuki dared to say at the previous serialization meeting that 'Ao Haru Ride' was more than good enough to be published in 'Red Violet'.
"The Light of Yesterday's Stars" was also approved for serialization by the editor-in-chief.
If these numbers held until the 24-hour mark, the ranking would hardly change drastically. Maybe a swap here or there, but not a complete inversion.
And if the pace continued in the coming weeks… it could turn into cascading growth. The scriptwriters in the editorial department are getting restless and starting to envy Miyuki. The group grew restless, and it was almost comical to watch.
Editors who lived calculating risk, accustomed to frustration, suddenly seemed like children seeing fireworks.
"What luck is this? According to the schedule, it was her turn to be at the company that day to review the submitted novels, and she managed to find two such promising talents in a single day?"
"Why do we never find things like this?"
Miyuki, on the other side of the space, had also seen the initial results of the serial publication of "Ao Haru Ride" and "The Light of Yesterday's Stars."
She sat sideways, her hand supporting her pale face and her eyes darting across the lines of the report.
She wasn't the type to scream inside, but there was a contained gleam there.
To be honest, she had high expectations for "Ao Haru Ride," sensing that the first edition would be a success. Of course, she didn't expect it to be this good.
What really caught her attention was 'The Light of Yesterday's Stars'.
"Do readers today really accept romance novels where the male protagonist is a black cat? I never imagined." Miyuki rested her chin on her hand, a thoughtful glint in her eyes.
She remained silent for a few seconds.
And then professional instinct took the place of enchantment.
Because good numbers on the first day were just that: numbers on the first day.
As an editor, her first thought was undoubtedly how to help the two high school authors maintain their performance.
A work could explode at the beginning and collapse by chapter seven. It could have a perfect first chapter and then become repetitive, rushed, an easy escape. It could fall victim to the author's own anxiety, too many comments, wanting to please everyone.
Miyuki knew this movie.
She had already seen promising authors get lost because they tried to "deliver faster," because they panicked upon noticing a high score and thought they needed to surpass that every week. Serialization was a monster fueled by regularity and emotional stability.
She stared at the panel again.
'Ao Haru Ride' — votes: 2045. Score: 9.2.
'The Light of Yesterday's Stars' — votes: 1233. Score: 8.1.
From there, her work truly began. It's difficult for a first edition of a novel to achieve such excellent results, but it's ten times harder for two books to maintain those results until the end.
Miyuki straightened her posture, released her hand from her face, and picked up her cell phone.
The name on the screen appeared with only two words.
Ren Yamamoto.
She took a breath, as if organizing what she was going to say, and called.
The phone rang.
Once. Twice.
And somewhere in Yokohama, a young author about to discover the true weight of success reached out to answer, unaware that, at that moment, a reader named Akame had already left him a message on the system:
"Write truthfully. I'm rooting for you."
And sometimes, that's exactly what kept someone going.
End of chapter 17.