Scritch-scratch.
Gali, with her tongue sticking out in concentration, dragged the pen across the white paper. Slowly, the story of Doraemon—or as she called him, "Blue Raccoon"—began to take shape.
Light stood behind her, watching the progress. Gali had zero artistic foundation, so her lines were blunt and simple. But for a slice-of-life comedy like Doraemon, which relied on round shapes and minimal dynamic action, it worked. If this were a battle shonen, the readers would riot. But for a gag manga about a robot cat? It had charm.
Buzz.
Light's phone vibrated on the desk. He glanced at the caller ID: Uncle Andy.
He stepped out of the study, leaving Gali and Lorna to their work.
"Hello?"
"Light! The manuscripts are due tomorrow for printing," Andy's voice was frantic. "Monday is the release day for the third issue of Shonen Jump. And you mentioned a new magazine? What is the situation? I haven't heard from you in days!"
Andy had been trying to be respectful of Light's creative process, but the deadline was looming like a guillotine. He needed to know if they actually had content to print.
"Don't worry, Uncle Andy," Light said calmly. "Come over to the apartment. I have everything ready. We need to talk about the expansion."
Thirty minutes later, Andy arrived at the loft, looking out of breath.
He walked into the living room and froze. On the coffee table, there wasn't just one stack of manuscripts. There were distinct piles everywhere.
"Light..." Andy stammered, pointing at the table. "How many books are you launching?"
"Six new titles," Light said casually, pouring a cup of tea. "Actually, seven if you count the one-shot."
"Seven?!" Andy's voice cracked. "Are you crazy? Do you want to die from overwork? I promised your parents I'd take care of you, not watch you draw yourself into an early grave!"
"I'm not doing it alone," Light smiled. He looked toward the study door, which was cracked open. "You can come out now."
Lorna and Gali shuffled out, looking sheepish.
"Andy, meet my assistants," Light introduced. "Lorna Dane and... Gali."
Andy stared at the two girls. One looked like a runaway teenager, and the other looked like she belonged in elementary school.
"These two?" Andy whispered, skeptical.
"Don't let their looks fool you," Light said. "They are highly efficient. Now, let's look at the lineup."
Light handed Andy the first stack.
"These two will be the new pillars of Shonen Jump," Light explained. "Unlike the previous titles, these are long-running epics."
Andy flipped through the pages. The art style was sharp, dynamic, and undeniably professional.
"The setting is intricate," Andy muttered, scanning the dialogue. "Ninjas... and Soul Reapers? This is going to take a long time to unfold."
"Exactly," Light nodded. "Both Naruto and Bleach are estimated to have nearly 700 chapters each. These are slow-burn epics that will run for years."
"Seven... seven hundred chapters?" Andy dropped the manuscript, his face pale. "Light, the longest comic currently running is Captain America, and even that gets rebooted every few years. Readers don't have that kind of attention span!"
"They don't have it yet," Light corrected. "We are building it. Trust me."
Andy sighed, rubbing his temples. He knew arguing was pointless. Light had a vision, and so far, that vision had been profitable.
"Fine. What about the other piles?"
"Those are for the new magazine," Light said. "It will be sold alongside Shonen Jump as a weekly anthology. It's called Weekly Shonen Sunday."
"Weekly Shonen Sunday?" Andy raised an eyebrow.
"While Jump focuses on 'Friendship, Effort, Victory'—essentially hot-blooded action—Sunday will be broader. It will feature comedy, sci-fi, and slice-of-life. It's for everyone."
Light pointed to the two piles Andy was holding.
"So the comics placed here are very different from Jump. This is the draft for the first issue of Sunday."
Andy picked up two drawings. One had the familiar round blue raccoon-cat on the title page. The other was a sudden shift in style, becoming gritty and realistic. It featured a muscular man wearing sunglasses, raising a shotgun. In the background, terrifying metallic skeletons with red eyes were closing in.
"It seems that you were really prepared," Andy couldn't help but smile after flipping through them.
"Someone will buy these two books because of your current reputation. But if you treated these four as a debut without your name attached, I'm sure no one would read them at all."
Now the market was too deformed, but Light had become a brand name with his epic work.
Monday Morning: The Release
Andre, a rival editor at a major publishing house, walked down the street with a smug smile.
Since Marvel's Shonen Jump had exploded onto the scene, his own magazine sales had plummeted. But Andre wasn't worried. He knew the industry. No single artist could maintain the quality of three weekly serials for long. Eventually, Light Inksworth would burn out, the art would degrade, and the fans would return to the familiar comfort of superhero comics.
When that happened, Andre planned to hire a legion of online trolls to bury Marvel's reputation.
"Why is it so crowded?"
Andre stopped. The bookstore ahead was swarming with people. It looked like a riot.
"What's going on?" Andre asked a teenager who was squeezing his way out of the crush.
"Two new comics dropped!" the kid shouted, waving a glossy magazine. "And Marvel released a whole new anthology!"
"I need a copy of Sunday!" someone screamed from the back of the line.
"Give me Jump! I need to see if Kaneki eats the guy!"
Andre pushed his way to the front. He looked at the promotional posters plastered on the windows.
On the left: A boy with spiky blond hair and whiskers, housing a Nine-Tailed Fox. NARUTO.
On the right: An orange-haired teenager with a giant sword, facing a masked Hollow monster. BLEACH.
Andre froze.
He hadn't expected Light to take on two more serializations, considering he was already drawing three. 'And now, it's five serializations!'
It was impossible. Unless he had a team of fifty artists, no human could produce this much content.
"Sir, are you going to buy or just stand there?" the clerk snapped.
Andre numbly handed over the cash. He needed to see it with his own eyes.
He opened the plastic seal of Shonen Jump. He checked the credits.
Story & Art: Light Inksworth. Assistants: Lorna D., Gali.
"Assistants?" Andre muttered. "So he finally got help."
He flipped through the pages. The quality hadn't dropped. If anything, the backgrounds were more detailed, the shading more precise.
"Boss," Andre called his superior on his cell phone, his voice shaking. "We need to do something. Marvel is... they're overwhelming the market."
"Can't our artists compete?" the boss asked.
"No," Andre admitted. "We don't have anything like this."
"Fine," the boss growled. "If we can't beat them creatively, we'll beat them physically. I'll make a call."
Andre hung up, a cruel smile returning to his face. 'You're done, kid.'
Bump.
Andre collided with someone. He looked up to see a familiar face.
"Edward?" Andre put on his fake smile. "Are you here to review our latest issue of Ultra-Force?"
Edward Vance, the famous critic, laughed. It wasn't a friendly laugh.
"Sorry, Andre. I don't review recycled garbage anymore. I'm waiting for real innovation."
Edward brushed past him, grabbing a copy of Shonen Jump and Weekly Shonen Sunday. He didn't even look back.
Andre stood there, his face turning green with rage.
Edward's Review
Edward sat at a cafe table, his coffee forgotten. He opened Shonen Jump to One Punch Man.
The story had reached a critical point. The House of Evolution arc was concluding, and the terrifying Asura Kabuto—a Dragon-level threat—was rampaging. The art was visceral, the action kinetic.
"Now," Edward muttered, turning the page. "The secret. How did Saitama become so strong?"
In the comic, Genos leaned forward, his mechanical eyes glowing. "Sensei! Tell me the secret of your power!"
Saitama's face turned serious. The art style shifted to intense, dramatic shading.
"Listen, Genos. You have to train until your hair falls out."
Edward leaned in, his heart pounding. What was it? Genetic modification? Cosmic radiation? Magic?
Saitama shouted:
"100 PUSH-UPS! 100 SIT-UPS! 100 SQUATS! AND A 10-KILOMETER RUN! EVERY SINGLE DAY!"
Edward stared at the page.
He blinked. He read it again.
"That's... just a standard workout," Edward whispered, dumbfounded.
In the comic, Genos screamed, "THAT'S JUST NORMAL STRENGTH TRAINING! DON'T MESS WITH ME!"
"I'm not messing with you!" Saitama yelled back. "That's really all I did!"
Edward slumped back in his chair, laughing uncontrollably. "He's serious. He's actually serious."
Suddenly, Saitama's face went blank in the next panel.
"Wait... isn't today the supermarket sale day?"
WHAM.
With one punch, Asura Kabuto was obliterated because Saitama was worried about missing a discount on cabbage.
"Brilliant," Edward wiped a tear from his eye. "Absolutely brilliant."
_______________________________
Word count: 1485
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