"Eh?"
Shimazaki Yuna froze, still sniffling, unsure why Kira was suddenly talking about this.
But Kira continued muttering to himself calmly:
"I learned something from my short life—"
"The harder you work, the easier it is to be fired because of unexpected circumstances, and all your effort goes to waste. Unless… you transcend being a wage slave!"
"I'm sorry, I don't really understand," Yuna shifted her stiff body slightly.
Kira's expression turned serious.
"In other words, I don't want to work anymore!"
He had decided. He would transcend part-time workers and become a noble member of the flexible employment class!
As long as he was "flexibly employed," he would never be unemployed, and the peaceful life he longed for would never be disrupted.
Among flexible careers, the easiest and most stable profession was a light novel author.
For successful light novel authors, the speed of earning money was no less than robbery—except without risk. Taking money from otaku was far safer than robbing a bank, and might even earn more.
Moreover, he had some "writing" experience.
"Miss Shimazaki."
Kira looked up at the girl in front of him.
"As compensation for saving you, would you be my illustrator?"
Based on the trembling fear in her voice earlier, he had expected rejection.
So he had a backup plan. A pink cat-shaped figure floated silently in midair, watching the girl.
"I can."
Her voice was so soft he almost didn't hear it.
"If it's for you… anything is fine."
What Yuna didn't know was that this idea had formed the moment Kira learned she was an artist.
Everyone knows that in light novels, the writing quality isn't the most important thing.
The key is the illustrations.
For the largest audience—otaku—if the illustrations are high enough quality, you could sell toilet paper bundled with art and it would still sell.
On the other hand, even if the writing is good, poor illustrations mean it won't become popular.
And as an illustrator, Shimazaki Yuna was undoubtedly qualified.
As for whether he could write a passable volume of "toilet paper"? Wasn't that easy as long as you had hands?
"Very good."
Though surprised by her answer, Kira smiled in satisfaction and extended his hand.
"Let's properly introduce ourselves again. My name is Kira Yoshikage. Sixteen years old. Unmarried."
"Unmarried?"
A blush spread across Yuna's cheeks. Was he implying something? She quickly suppressed her thoughts and asked carefully:
"Um… what kind of story do you want to write, Kira-kun?"
"Ordinary. Something that doesn't attract attention."
"Eh?"
She blinked. Didn't authors usually aim for higher quality?
Even if she was only an illustrator, she knew most writers aimed for awards.
And usually you decide the genre first, right?
"Um," Yuna asked hesitantly, "which publisher are you planning to submit to?"
In Japan, there are three major light novel publishers, each known for certain genres.
So his choice would influence the theme.
"Doesn't matter."
"But…"
She swallowed her words and instead asked:
"Then what's your goal? Silver Prize? Or Encouragement Prize?"
Usually, the major publishers hold newcomer competitions.
For example, the Dengeki Novel Prize awards, from highest to lowest:
Grand Prize, Gold Prize, Silver Prize, Encouragement Prize.
Yuna assumed he lacked confidence and thus said he wanted something "ordinary."
"Best if I don't win."
His answer stunned her again.
"But winning gives prize money. You seem short on money. And publishers usually prioritize award-winning works for publication. If you don't win…"
She stopped. Without winning, he might not even be published, let alone make money.
Kira fell silent. That was true.
"Then Encouragement Prize is fine. Silver Prize too."
Grand Prize gives 3 million yen.
Gold Prize gives 1 million yen.
Silver Prize gives 500,000 yen.
Encouragement Prize gives 100,000 yen—basically a participation award.
If he wanted to avoid attention, Encouragement Prize was most suitable.
As a transmigrator, finding excellent source material wasn't hard.
He knew many Grand Prize-level works:
The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya
Accel World
The Grimoire of Zero
86 -Eighty-Six-
Gold Prize examples:
OreSuki
Our Home's Fox Deity
Baccano!
Silver Prize examples:
Spice and Wolf
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!
Ro-Kyu-Bu!
Theoretically, picking a Silver Prize-level work would guarantee success.
But due to world differences, they might rank even higher.
Kira remained calm.
He would rather do nothing than make a mistake.
Winning Gold or Grand Prize would heavily disrupt his peaceful life.
The safest method was choosing a work that never won awards but was adapted into anime—ideally a "buy illustrations, get toilet paper free" type.
After consideration, he chose two:
Infinite Stratos (IS) — the pioneer of "buy illustrations, get toilet paper," known as the "Wall of Classics."
The Eminence in Shadow — the last isekai series he watched before transmigrating.
Among countless isekai "toilet paper," The Eminence in Shadow was barely considered refined toilet paper.
Its original writing was average; illustrations and anime saved it.
Yuna, unaware of his thoughts, suggested carefully:
"Kira-kun, isekai light novels are very popular right now. If you don't know what to write, maybe consider that genre?"
For newcomers, following trends was often safest.
Kira suddenly looked at her, making her nervous.
"No change."
If isekai was popular, then he wouldn't write The Eminence in Shadow. He'd directly choose Infinite Stratos.
What if IS became famous in this world too?
He wasn't worried.
He could always drop the series before it became too popular.
Decision made, he began.
Thirty minutes until 11 PM. Enough to write an opening.
He opened a new document.
Renamed it: Infinite Stratos
After two seconds of thought, he typed his pen name:
17 years old, afraid school isn't violent enough.
Yuna leaned closer, watching curiously.
"Infinite Stratos?"
She softly read it in imperfect English.
"Infinite Stratos?"
She suddenly realized her braid brushed against something.
Turning her head, she found him staring at her.
"Ah, sorry…"
She panicked. Interrupting someone's creation was rude.
Kira gazed at her pale hands.
"If you're free… could you give me a massage?"
His eyes never left her hands.
"Eh? O-Okay."
She nodded shyly.
Barefoot, she moved behind him and gently kneaded his shoulders.
"I've never done this before… so I might not be very good…"
"That's not true."
His voice softened. His gaze remained fixed on her delicate fingers resting on his shoulders.
Her hands were pale like jade, slender and fine, fingertips faintly pink like cherry blossoms. Under the light, they seemed to glow like pearls.
His eyes grew gentler.
Though vulgar—
He got an erection.
Smack!
"Eh? What was that sound?"
She looked at the desk.
"Nothing. Continue."
His expression returned to calm as his fingers flew across the keyboard.
Twenty-five minutes until 11.
He'd just casually write fifty thousand words.
And so, while enjoying the girl's massage, Kira typed away.