One hundred and eighty thousand copies.
When Yukino saw the number, she fell silent for a moment. She had known that Blue Spring Ride would sell well, but she had not expected it to reach this level.
It was generally possible to estimate a standalone volume's total lifetime sales based on its first-week numbers, with the gap usually being around three times.
If Blue Spring Ride had sold 180,000 copies in its first week, then after circulating in the market for a while, the total sales of Volume One would very likely exceed 500,000 copies.
And what did half a million copies for a single volume mean?
That was a level only top-tier light novels in the Minamijo Prefecture could usually reach, and that was with major publishers putting in maximum effort, pouring in promotional budgets, pushing advertisements both online and offline, and mobilizing all available resources.
As for Blue Spring Ride?
To be honest, when compared to how the publisher treated its flagship light novels, the resources invested in Blue Spring Ride were not even one fifth of that level. Yet it had still achieved these sales.
It was absurd.
If a light novel could maintain an average of 500,000 copies per volume, and if the author could continue writing ten or even twenty volumes, then nationwide total sales would reach several million, or even tens of millions.
An author with numbers like that would no longer be a small figure in the Japanese light novel industry.
The only pity was that Blue Spring Ride ended in just two volumes.
If Haruto had continued it for ten or twenty volumes, allowing the serialization to run longer and accumulate more fans in Minamijo, this would have truly been a case of a single work launching him straight into the ranks of Minamijo's top light novel authors.
By comparison, although Reina's Yesterday's Starlight seemed to lag behind Blue Spring Ride by over 100,000 copies in first-week sales, the gap in reality was still significant.
Even so, her results were already extremely strong.
Close to 70,000 copies sold in the first week was an excellent performance in the Minamijo region. Many novels serialized in Crimson Maple magazine could not reach numbers like that.
The reason it felt less noticeable was simply because Yesterday's Starlight had been completely overshadowed by the overwhelming discussion around Blue Spring Ride.
People had overlooked the fact that Reina's novel, thanks to its rapid rise in popularity during the later stages, had also built up a large group of loyal fans.
Yukino sighed inwardly.
If Haruto had not existed, Reina would undoubtedly be Crimson Maple Literature's most eye-catching new female light novel author this year, without question the strongest rookie.
Yukino continued examining the detailed data for both novels.
For Yesterday's Starlight, almost all of its standalone sales came from the Minamijo Prefecture.
Outside Minamijo, across the remaining prefectures, total sales were just a little over two thousand copies. That was understandable. With zero promotion outside the region, and when placed next to famous, heavily marketed light novels with nationwide campaigns and sales events, it was only natural that most readers would not choose a book tucked away in the corner of a bookstore.
What was truly abnormal was Blue Spring Ride.
In Minamijo alone, Volume One had sold over 108,000 copies, which was already an impressive figure.
But the remaining 80,000 copies had all been sold outside the region.
Seeing this, Yukino began searching major light novel forums and publisher websites in other prefectures.
Sure enough.
With just a little searching, she could find posts on out-of-region forums where readers were spontaneously recommending Blue Spring Ride.
Organic promotion.
Fan-organized groups.
Forum discussions where readers debated, praised, argued, compared, and passionately recommended the series to others.
That was how Blue Spring Ride's out-of-region sales had been driven up.
Similar cases had appeared before.
Some excellent works from small publishers, with no marketing budget and no exposure, had initially been printed in just a few thousand copies. But once released, they received unanimous praise from readers, causing sales to surge dramatically within a reasonable range.
For that to happen, the quality of the novel had to reach a certain threshold.
Most readers were lazy by nature. Many would not even leave a single comment after finishing a book. To make them spend time actively recommending a novel, the work had to genuinely touch something deep inside them.
If a novel was merely good in an ordinary sense, at best readers would just keep following it quietly. They would never bother going out of their way to promote it.
Back at the office, many editors came over to congratulate Yukino.
"Congratulations, Yukino. These two newcomers are unbelievable."
"Is this Shiori Takahashi really a rookie? Could it be some veteran author using a pen name to pretend to be new?"
"What a shame these novels are so short. They ended after just thirteen or fourteen chapters. If it were another author, they would squeeze every last bit of value out of them, writing ten or twenty volumes before finishing. With this popularity, stretching it out would be like printing money."
"Exactly. By keeping them this short, they're losing millions for themselves, and the publisher is losing tens of millions. Yukino, even your bonus is affected. That's not a small amount."
"But that assumes they even have the ability to keep the quality up for ten or twenty volumes. Don't confuse imagined profits with reality."
"Maybe they're writing purely for their dreams?"
"Heh. If money didn't matter at all, why submit to a light novel publisher? They could just post it for free on forums."
The editorial office buzzed with chatter.
It had been many years since Crimson Maple Literature had seen newcomers with results this explosive, and many editors looked at Yukino with a mix of envy and jealousy.
"By the way, Yukino," someone suddenly said in a low voice, "how long are these two signed with us? With their potential, if it's only a three-year short-term contract for promising authors, that's not enough. We should renegotiate now, lock them into a longer contract while they still don't understand the market."
Before Yukino could respond, another editor who knew the situation spoke up.
"Three-year contract? We don't even have a long-term contract with them. The agreement we signed was only for single works, not for the authors themselves."
The office instantly went quiet.
Everyone's expressions turned strange.
No long-term contract?
With these standalone sales figures…
Among Minamijo's five major publishers, information flowed quickly. If these two were not tied to Crimson Maple, that was dangerous.
Only Yukino remained calm. She smiled at her colleagues and said,
"All right, let's not focus too much on Shiori Takahashi and Airi. They're just two newcomers. I'll continue handling their follow-up coordination and do my best to ensure better cooperation with our publisher going forward."
That evening, Haruto was on the subway home from school when his phone rang with an unfamiliar number.
The moment he answered, a gentle female voice came through.
"Hello, is this Author Shiori Takahashi? I'm an editor from—"
Haruto promptly hung up.
That was the third call that day from editors at other publishers trying to poach him.
He let out a long breath.
He had enjoyed working with Crimson Maple Literature, and none of the publishers trying to recruit him had any clear advantage over them. He had no intention of leaving, and there was no reason to waste time on those calls.
Still.
This was the first time he had truly felt what it meant to be valued.
When Haruto returned home, he saw the figure displayed on his shelf, the gift Yukino had given him. He did not feel a strong sense of belonging to Crimson Maple Literature. They published his work, his work earned them money, and the cooperation itself was fair and equal.
But during the process, the relationship had not been purely transactional. There were people involved, moments involved, and things that went beyond profit.
At the very least, Haruto cared a little about how Yukino saw him. He did not want to be viewed as someone heartless who ran off the moment he became famous.
Running away was not going to happen.
And besides, he also needed to think about the new serialization opportunities in late May.