This question was actually Mori Keima's personal curiosity.
Akira's writing speed had already convinced him that this author had to be secured at all costs.
Whether Akira exaggerated or not, he'd easily confirm it by observing his future output.
Even if Akira couldn't produce a volume per week, managing a volume per month would still be lightning-fast—so fast, in fact, the publisher might struggle to keep up.
But Mori remained curious. What exactly had driven the young yet unnervingly seasoned Kuroba Akira to start writing light novels?
He'd soon get his answer from Akira's response.
"Sales figures."
Mori Keima's eyes instantly brightened, prompting him to inquire further.
"Oh? Why do you say that, Kuroba-kun?"
"Isn't it obvious...? If you can't even afford to eat, what's the point in writing novels?"
"…! Haha… Right! Precisely! Exactly right!"
Mori broke into a grin. He'd asked many authors this same question, but their answers had always left him slightly disappointed, always focusing on "inspiration," "characters," or "settings"—the "standard answers" of writers.
Those authors couldn't shake the halo of being an "author," treating writing as sacred, never stooping to consider something as "crass" as making a living.
But in today's literary market, sales always came first, while authorial expression was secondary.
No matter how beautifully written a work might be, if it didn't sell, the author couldn't survive.
Mori considered it his fundamental duty as an editor to ensure authors could feed themselves by their writing.
There was nothing shameful in that. Even famous artists had desperately marketed their paintings before fame struck, eager to sell off their entire portfolios.
If they didn't sell, they wouldn't eat!
People were what gave value to creative works!
Time filtered away mediocrity, preserving only those works that withstood scrutiny.
Yet even a mediocre work was valuable if it provided the author temporary wealth, allowing them to proudly proclaim: "I earned my living solely from my creations!"
No need for side jobs—writing alone was their profession!
Mori Keima felt he'd finally met an author who clearly saw reality as he did, but Akira's next words shocked him even further:
"Well... just saying 'sales' alone seems a bit vague, huh? Let me clarify. The most important thing is 'increasing sales,' and the way to achieve that is manga and anime adaptations."
"The true value of a light novel lies in IP development—from novel to manga, anime, merchandise, and ideally, games, creating a top-down industry chain that ultimately funnels popularity back to the original novel. This makes the IP widely recognized."
"Then, even a mediocre work can gain the glorious title of 'masterpiece' due to overwhelming popularity, right? Isn't that an author's greatest success?"
In fact, the correct term should've been the infamous "masterpiece barrier."
Despite cliché plots, shallow themes, and reused settings, certain ecchi-harem-mecha adaptations of trashy novels had become benchmarks for judging market popularity.
Mori Keima covered his eyes with one hand, laughter uncontrollably leaking from his smiling lips.
"Haha… Kuroba-kun, I really… truly like you way too much."
Only someone with extensive life experience could voice such a ruthless yet razor-sharp critique of the industry…
This kid truly understood—not that he necessarily understood writing itself deeply, but he unquestionably grasped what exactly a "light novel" was.
In his eyes, readers were basically naked!
Completely in his grasp!
"I'm glad you approve. Looks like we'll have a long and fruitful collaboration ahead. By the way, this is just one of many concepts I have—I can deliver even more interesting works in the future."
"Based on your earlier response alone, I trust you completely on that."
"Well, after all, I don't consider myself an author. I'm merely a merchant selling interesting products. Naturally, I have some insight into marketing my goods."
"Brilliant! Well said, 'merchant'!"
Their shared values resonated so strongly, it felt like the powerful telepathic communication between Newtypes.
For the first time ever, Mori extended an unprecedented invitation to an author.
"Kuroba-kun, would you be interested in joining Hurricane Bunko after graduation? I'd mentor you personally…"
He sincerely felt limiting their relationship to merely author and editor would be too regrettable, prompting his first-ever desire to cultivate a successor.
"No interest."
However, Akira's instant rejection left Mori dumbfounded yet again.
That was awfully decisive!
Realizing this sounded a bit rude—since Mori clearly admired him deeply—Akira quickly clarified:
"Ah, Mori-san, please don't misunderstand. It's not that I have no interest in being an editor—it's that I have no interest in working, period."
"Hehe… I see. No wonder you chose to write novels. As long as your works become bestsellers, you can just lie around waiting for royalties… Your goal is financial freedom, isn't it?"
This remark drew a delighted smile from Akira.
Oh-ho? You're quite perceptive, instantly grasping my ultimate goal?
"Yes, I wish to lead an easy life."
"Excellent goal. I fully believe you have the talent to realize it. Just write two or three hit works, and financial freedom won't be far off."
"Thanks for the encouragement."
"Alright, although I'm personally slightly disappointed, I officially extend a sincere invitation to you on behalf of Hurricane Bunko: Please become one of our regular authors, Kuroba-kun."
Mori offered his hand again. Taking the chance to shake it, Akira covertly glanced at Mori's Talent with his right hand:
[Talent: Manuscript Chasing—Rank B]
His talent as an editor was actually "Manuscript Chasing"?!
What a terrifying ability!
An author's worst nightmare!
"Then I'll begin drafting your publication contract right away. Afterward, we'll discuss payment and royalties… Do you have any other requests, Kuroba-kun?"
"Yes, regarding the illustrator—can I appoint someone myself?"
"Oh? You already have an illustrator in mind? No problem—as long as they agree to submit to Hurricane Bunko, you can freely select anyone."
"Actually, I'm not choosing from established illustrators. Instead, I'd like to ask a friend of mine. She's currently not a professional."
"That's… I shouldn't need to remind you, but you're surely aware how crucial illustration quality is for light novels?"
"Yes, I know. But I've already decided on someone. After she produces some illustrations, I'll send them to you for review. If you think they aren't good enough, we can use your choice instead. Is that alright?"
Though Akira hadn't yet collaborated with Aizono Momo, she was the reason he'd begun writing in the first place—he needed to secure a spot for her first.
More importantly, collaborating with unfamiliar illustrators meant he couldn't ask for many revisions, even if their art didn't match his vision.
If they got frustrated after repeated corrections, they might simply quit.
Especially those big-name illustrators with terrible tempers—how could they bear constant nitpicking?
But with an illustrator he'd personally trained, she'd fully comply, making revisions exactly as he pleased.
Given Aizono Momo's timid and gentle personality, she should be easy to mold… that is, to teach illustration skills.
Although Akira didn't know how to draw, he'd seen countless illustrations before. He could freely offer detailed critiques, even requesting dozens or hundreds of revisions, ensuring Momo would produce illustrations satisfying both himself and readers alike.
This was essentially a dimensionality reduction attack.
Currently, this world's standard for light novel illustrations wasn't yet as intense as in his previous life. So, as long as he could help Momo create artwork above average standards, sales would skyrocket dramatically.
Everything for money!
"I see, that's fine. As long as the quality passes our review, I have absolutely no objections. I believe an illustrator familiar with you will better capture your envisioned characters. Our publisher is eager to collaborate with more talented new illustrators as well."
"Alright, that's my only request then."
"Hm… Haha, look at us—we haven't even eaten yet, but we've already finished discussing business. Now, let's relax and enjoy the meal. This place has excellent tonkatsu—I used to come here often when I was younger."
With important matters settled, Akira finally relaxed, savoring delicious fried pork cutlets.
And now… his light novel battle against Shiroi Shiori was officially decided.
He'd fulfilled their bet condition—receiving publication approval—in barely a week, meaning…
The compulsory undressing certificate for Shiroi Shiori was securely in his hands.