It had already been an hour since they entered the venue. The clock struck seven, and only now were guests arriving in earnest.
"This is so boring…" Haruki sighed, leaning back in his seat. He had already made the rounds at the food tables, helping himself to a generous amount of sweets and drinks. Now that his appetite was sated, the initial novelty of the event had worn off.
Even Kotone, who was attending the Kurokawa Publishing annual party for the first time, felt the same. At first, she'd been dazzled by the grand venue and lively music. But after a while, it became clear that everyone already belonged to their own tight-knit circles.
Fortunately, Haruki and Riku had been able to tag along with Kotone and Rin, who shared a past. The four of them had gradually formed their own small group.
Before long, others began to notice Riku. Some fellow artists who recognized him from various periodicals came over to say hello, and the group around their table began to grow. Half an hour later, more than twenty people were gathered, all chatting in overlapping conversations.
As the conversations continued, Haruki started picking up on everyone's backgrounds. Most were manga artists serialized in Kurokawa's mid-tier magazines. Among them, Riku surprisingly held the highest standing.
It turned out that he and Haruki were actually serialized in the same magazine. Both had won first place in the popularity poll during their respective runs.
The difference? Haruki was currently topping the charts—while Riku had won… from the bottom.
Still, Haruki had to admit, he remembered Riku's work vividly.
My Husky Has Become Perfect.
It had been the talk of the editor's floor for months.
The story centered around a high school boy and his pet husky, a dog who suddenly developed human-like intelligence, could talk, pull tricks, and even use the bathroom by itself—though still insisted its owner wipe for it. That bizarre, chaotic personality drew in a lot of readers early on.
Within just two months, it was climbing the ranks—until Chapter Eleven.
That chapter changed everything.
In a bizarre twist, the protagonist and his husky accidentally swapped bodies for three days after a magic spell misfired. What followed was… chaos.
The husky, now in his owner's body, managed to woo the boy's longtime crush—the same girl the protagonist had never dared confess to. It also stirred up romantic tension with the childhood friend next door, and even flirted with the class idol. And just before they swapped back, the husky, still inside the boy's body, landed a kiss with the crush, all while the real protagonist watched helplessly… from his dog's body.
Readers were furious. They'd projected themselves into the story—only to feel like their own dog had betrayed them. Comments flooded in calling the series "insane," "toxic," and "downright disrespectful."
Popularity plummeted. By the next issue, My Husky Has Become Perfect had hit dead last in the magazine's rankings.
But oddly enough… the series wasn't axed.
Kurokawa's editors soon realized something strange. While the voting numbers were low, the manga was drowning in reader letters.
Most of them were complaints, sure. Rants, sarcasm, even outright threats to drop the series.
But… they kept coming. Issue after issue. And the same people kept reading.
It was a bizarre phenomenon: people hated the story, but couldn't stop following it. It was a trainwreck no one could look away from.
Riku, instead of panicking, leaned into the chaos. He doubled down on absurdity, crafting plotlines so twisted they practically dared readers to keep going. And they did.
He'd gained a fanbase of black fans—readers who loved to hate his work. They watched religiously just to complain, forming forums dedicated to roasting each new chapter.
Strangely, it worked. My Husky Has Become Perfect now boasted one of the highest reader mail volumes in the magazine, and its standalone volume had sold over 300,000 copies.
It was arguably the most bizarre hit in recent manga history—something even the seasoned editors of Kurokawa hadn't seen before.
And now, the author of that infamous, infamous series… was sitting across from Haruki, shamelessly grinning and downing a meat bun.
Even Haruki could sense the shift in atmosphere—Kotone's expression had turned a little odd.
She hadn't expected that her close friend had once worked as an assistant on My Husky Has Become Perfect
But no matter how bizarre the story might be, it was still a published manga. It had a full volume release and an ongoing serialization in a printed magazine.
Among the two dozen or so manga artists and assistants in their little group, Riku was undoubtedly the most established name present.
"Hey man," a manga artist wearing glasses turned to Haruki, "Riku said you're a newcomer with Kurokawa this year. Which magazine is your series in? What's your pen name?"
Manga artists, despite competing for rankings and readers on a weekly basis, were still fans of the craft themselves. At events like this—after a few drinks—rivalries often gave way to casual chatter.
The man's question immediately drew the attention of those around them.
A newcomer?
Everyone had once been in that position. Seeing someone new reminded them of their own beginnings.
"Eh? Me?" Haruki blinked, caught a little off guard.
No one had asked him up to this point, so he hadn't bothered to explain.
After seeing the attention Riku had attracted—being toasted constantly and already looking tipsy—Haruki had opted to lie low. He really didn't want to get dragged into a drinking marathon.
Especially not when he'd had his fair share of rough nights being carted home by Kotone.
So, he quietly played along with being just another face in the crowd.
Well… not exactly played along. Technically speaking, he was still a newcomer, having only debuted a few months ago. There wasn't much pretending needed.
It was just that now someone had asked.
Haruki glanced at Kotone.
She nodded subtly, a silent "go ahead."
The message was clear: Don't worry. I'll get you out of here if things get out of hand.
She knew as well as he did—if people here found out that he was the one behind Rurouni Kenshin, their quiet little circle would be overrun. Not just by fellow artists, but by editors, executives, and publishing partners.
One person would offer a drink, then another… and how long could he last?
Well, whatever. It wasn't like he could keep it hidden forever. Sora had already told him he'd be called up to speak later that evening.
Might as well get it over with.
Haruki took a quiet breath.
"I'm serialized in Sora," he said.
As soon as the words left his mouth, someone laughed.
"Wow, you Osaka folks sure talk funny," the man with glasses chuckled. "Did you just call Sora by the wrong name? Did you mean Inkbolt?"
Haruki blinked.
He realized then that, being a rookie, they probably assumed his work was in Inkbolt—the short-format journals where most newcomers started.
And under that assumption, they thought he'd simply mispronounced the name.
So he clarified.
"I meant Sora," he said calmly. "I'm the author of Rurouni Kenshin. Pen name's Mizushiro."
The small crowd froze.
Then suddenly—laughter.
"Oh man, that's a good one!"
"Haha! If you're Mizushiro, then I'm Airi Tanaka, the author of Dream World!"
"No no—then I guess I'm Haruka Amamiya, the mind behind Magic Fist!"
"I guess I'm Fuyuka Hoshikawa now—writer of Glorious Light! Haha!"
The entire group burst out laughing, trading names like they were playing a party game.
Kotone covered her mouth, trying not to laugh too hard.
Haruki could only sigh.
This was ridiculous.
He finally told the truth—and now no one believed him.
Was he supposed to just pretend to be a nobody forever?
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 50+ advanced chapters)