"Don't start the celebration just yet," Aoyama said, his voice cutting through the rising excitement of the room.
The celebratory murmurs from the Manga World legal team died in their throats. Saito Michio, who had been on the verge of a sigh of relief, felt his heart sink back into his stomach. He'd seen plenty of deals collapse at the eleventh hour because of a single, stubborn demand from an author.
"Aoyama-sensei? Is there something else?" Ryo Shien asked, his brow furrowed with curiosity.
"If I'm joining the development team as the Project Director, I have my own set of requirements," Aoyama said, scratching his head. "I'm not just selling you a license anymore; I'm selling you my time and my technical expertise. It's only fair we discuss the terms of my involvement."
"Of course," Ryo said, nodding quickly. You'll get the full benefits package: insurance, bonuses, the works."
...
He'd already begun calculating the value of having a technical genius like Aoyama on the payroll.
Saito Michio whistled under his breath. Fifty thousand a month was a staggering sum for a rookie mangaka. It was more than most senior editors made.
But Aoyama shook his head, a faint, disinterested smile on his face.
"First of all, I don't want a salary. I don't need to be on your payroll."
Ryo blinked, stunned. "Then... what are you asking for?"
"I want ten percent of the net profit," Aoyama said, his voice firm and unwavering. "A royalty on the backend. If the game doesn't make a profit, I don't get paid a cent for my dev work. I'm essentially investing my labor into the success of the project."
The room went silent again. Ten percent of the net profit was a massive ask for a project of this scale, but it was also a massive risk for the person asking. If the game flopped or the development costs spiraled out of control, Aoyama would have worked for hundreds, if not thousands, of hours for absolutely nothing.
Ryo's eyes narrowed. "Ten percent... that's a significant stake, Sensei."
"Think of it this way," Aoyama countered. "I'm giving you my technical expertise for free upfront. I'm providing the art direction, the core combat logic, and I'm guaranteeing that I can resolve any technical bottleneck his team encounters. If any bug or engine limitation takes me more than thirty days to solve, I forfeit the royalty entirely. That's how confident I am."
The guarantee hit Watanabe Keisuke like a physical weight. The idea of a thirty-day limit on any technical problem was insane; some bugs in AAA engines took months of dedicated research to squash. Aoyama's confidence was either pure arrogance or the sign of a man who was operating on a completely different level of reality.
Ryo Shien studied Aoyama for a long moment. He saw a man who wasn't just confident, but entirely certain of his own victory. It was the kind of certainty that moved mountains and finished billion-dollar projects.
"And my last condition," Aoyama added, leaning back in his chair. "I am not a 'shachiku.' I won't be punching a clock or sitting in a cubicle for eight hours a day. I'll work from my studio. I'll visit the office for maybe an hour or two once a day to check in on the team and handle the high-level architecture. Anything else can be handled through a secure line."
Ryo hesitated for a second, then he slammed his hand down on the table. "Fine! As long as the game gets built to the standard you showed us today, I don't care if you work from the moon. Ten percent net profit. No fixed salary. You're the Project Director."
New contracts were drafted on the spot.
The first was the IP buyout--a standard deal that saw Manga World and Aoyama split a two-hundred-thousand-Yen licensing fee. The second was a much thicker, more complex partnership agreement. It stipulated that LightSpeed Interactive would invest a minimum of one hundred million into the project and that Aoyama would have final say over the creative and technical direction.
Aoyama scratched his signature onto the bottom of the final page, the sound of the pen on the thick paper echoing in the quiet room.
Ryo watched him, a satisfied smile on his face. "Thank you for your trust, Aoyama-sensei. But before we wrap this up... as a fan, I have one question."
"Shoot," Aoyama said, sliding the folder back across the table.
"I've been talking with some of my friends... they say Edgerunners is only planned to be about forty chapters long. If that's true, we're already halfway through the story. So... what happens next? Who is the final obstacle for David and Lucy?"
Aoyama's eyes glinted with a mischievous, dark light. "Let's just say... David isn't the only one who can move faster than the eye can see. He's about to meet someone who's forgotten what it feels like to be 'human' a long time ago."
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]