The Manjie Rookie Grand Prix Award Ceremony (as the name implied) was a gala held to celebrate the winners of the previous year's competition.
However, the awards were always offset by a year. This year's ceremony was dedicated to those who had triumphed in the previous year's Rookie Grand Prix.
But the event was far more than just a trophy presentation. It was a massive industry gathering. Not only were the current competitors invited, but the magazine's heavy hitters (the established, superstar manga artists) were also in attendance.
Essentially, the ceremony was a stage where rookies could rub shoulders with the legends and the decision-makers who could turn their drawings into television series.
Of course, the feeling was mutual. The established artists and studio heads were always on the lookout for the "next big thing."
Where there are people, there is a "Jianghu," a complex web of relationships, rivalries, and politics.
That said, the manga world was still, at its core, a meritocracy. There was little room for empty seniority. If your work was exceptional and loved by the public, you were royalty. Even if you offended a veteran, they could do little to touch you if the fans were on your side.
Generally, artists tended to be civil to one another, and most welcomed the chance to broaden their social circles.
Aoyama had been invited to this very gala. The only problem was... Aoyama.
When Ayumi had called him about it the week before, he hadn't given it a second thought. In fact, he'd completely forgotten the date.
"Aoyama-sensei! The ceremony is about to start! We have to leave right now!" Ayumi cried, her voice bordering on frantic.
"Oh... right," Aoyama said.
He didn't have any desire to act the "detached genius" or make a scene by being absent. He'd simply lost track of time. And he certainly didn't want to make Ayumi's job any harder than it already was.
"Akane, you should probably head out for lunch on your own. I have to go with Ayumi," Aoyama said, turning to Akane.
"Sure, no problem," Akane said with a helpless smile.
She wasn't upset. Aoyama had professional obligations, and she was more than happy to support him. She wasn't the type to be a burden.
Aoyama quickly changed into something that could pass for "semi-formal" and hopped into a taxi with Ayumi, racing toward the venue.
---
The Venue of the Manjie Rookie Grand Prix Ceremony.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne and high-end catering. Editors, artists, and production heads milled about the massive hall, which was decorated with posters of the magazine's most successful series.
Unlike the usual "tired assistant" look prevalent in the industry, the creators here were dressed in sleek suits and elegant dresses. Trays of gourmet hors d'oeuvres and crystal glasses filled with sparkling drinks circulated through the room.
The veteran artists moved through the crowd with practiced ease, greeting old friends and rivals alike.
"Sensei Kiyoshi! I heard the collected volume sales for the 'True Dragon Chosen' series are through the roof. I'm quite jealous!"
"Oh, stop it, Ryunosuke! Everyone knows you just closed the film rights for 'Martial Universe.' You're the one who's set for life!"
"Haha! What can I say? It's easier to adapt an urban martial arts story than your high-fantasy epics. The special effects costs are a nightmare."
"Nightmare? It's only a nightmare if the directors are too cheap to pay for quality CGI."
"Well, Hollywood can afford the big budgets. Here in the Federation... the market just isn't there yet."
"Hollywood would never look at our manga for adaptation anyway..."
"Now, now, Kiyoshi-sensei, film is one thing, but anime is booming. My studio, Wangquan, is very interested in a collaboration. Perhaps we could discuss..."
The veterans lived in their own world, their conversations a mix of business, shop-talk, and friendly barbs.
Meanwhile, the newcomers stood on the fringes.
Tsuruki Junsei adjusted his glasses, standing beside his editor, Sato Tetsuken. No one else was near them. He watched the veterans with a look of profound longing.
A few people had approached him earlier, asking for his pen name and his latest work. But as soon as he'd answered, their polite smiles had turned into glazed-over expressions of indifference.
"I'ts quite the reality check," Tsuruki Junsei murmured. "Even though this is called a 'Rookie' ceremony, we're the ones no one cares about."
"You'll be one of them soon, 'Itchy Mouse' Sensei," Sato Tetsuken said, trying to offer some encouragement.
"I... will I?"
Tsuruki Junsei's confidence wavered. "I don't know. The only person here who has any right to be certain about reaching that level... is probably..."
In his mind's eye, he saw the screaming, manic face of Maine from the panels of Edgerunners.
Every person who had asked him about his work today wasn't actually looking for him. They were looking for the creator of the phenomenon, the "Rookie King" himself, Aoyama.
Edgerunners had briefly achieved a level of industry-wide impact that defied its "rookie" status. The fact that its ranking had climbed to #3 during Maine's death arc was proof enough. No other newcomer had ever challenged the status of the "God-Tier" veterans so early in their career.
Tsuruki Junsei desperately wanted to see him. He wanted to know what kind of person could create such a raw, impactful story.
He intended to face this rival head-on. Like the protagonist of a Shonen manga, he would stand before the "powerful enemy" and declare his challenge.
He was the young, hot-blooded Dragonslayer, and he was about to face the Great Dragon.
While Junsei was lost in his heroic daydream...
Two figures burst through the doors of the hall, looking as if they'd just run a marathon.
The man in the lead was tall and lean, with hair that looked like a bird's nest. But beneath the mess, his features were strikingly handsome.
The most noticeable thing, however, was his attire. While everyone else was in black tie, he was wearing a clean but decidedly casual hoodie and jeans.
"Whew... haha! We made it! We aren't late, are we?" the man panted, leaning on his knees.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]