Chapter 155: Untitled

“The worldview, plot, character relationships, dialogue, character designs, storyboarding, scenes, action sequences—everything in my manga… how could you judge it all after just a few glances?”

Himekoji clutched his manuscript tightly, staring intensely at Iida Ayano. Unblinking. “You called it a third-rate work. Are you truly willing to stand by that claim?”

Himekoji stood firmly.

Like a flag vigorously flapping under the hot sun, radiating a powerful aura.

Caught unprepared, Iida Ayano was momentarily overwhelmed by his presence.

Snapping back to her senses, she bristled with anger.

While forceful, careful scrutiny revealed Himekoji’s arguments were largely clever tricks. As a seasoned manga editor, Ayano naturally saw through this.

She couldn’t fathom the source of his immense confidence, but she knew manga requires both compelling writing and good art. One without the other falls short.

Text alone, no matter how brilliant, is useless with poorly drawn art.

Why not just write a novel then?

Wait… Wasn’t this guy who submitted “elementary schooler doodles” actually a novelist?

Never mind! That wasn’t the point!

The point was—

For any manga aspiring for success, both art style and story structure are crucial!

There’s a saying: “Writing conveys the message.” For manga, perhaps it’s “Art conveys the writing/carry the story.”

Even if the story is core, shaky artistic fundamentals doom a manga’s prospects.

To Ayano, despite Himekoji’s long speech, it felt empty.

She couldn’t fully judge his supposedly brilliant writing, having only skimmed it. But it likely wasn’t exceptional.

As for the fundamental art skills:

Storyboarding showed promise—that was the single positive.

Everything else—composition, line work, character simplification, grasp of values, color sense—was purely amateurish.

This level of skill… and he claimed to be a mangaka?

She saw only a deluded dreamer, lazily fantasizing about becoming a mangaka while making unreasonable demands.

Putting in even a minimal effort should yield better results than his work.

Only the truly untalented indulge in such idle fantasies, thinking mere ambition lets them soar.

How childish and laughable!

…

“You called it a third-rate work. Are you truly willing to stand by that claim?”

Facing Himekoji’s brazen challenge, Ayano gave a derisive snort.

“Absolutely!”

She met his gaze directly, unwavering. Locked in confrontation.

“Third-rate work! Third-rate talent! Of course I stand by it.”

Both his work and his entire self were denied.

Himekoji clenched, then unclenched his fist—

“Fine. Better remember this third-rate manga then. And rememberme, this third-rate creator.”

He lifted his manuscript, holding the cover facing Ayano.

A bald head. A fist engulfed in flames. Powerful, slanted bold text spanning the entire page:

“There’s no problem that can’t be solved with one punch. If one punch isn’t enough… then punch again!”

ONE-PUNCH MAN.

…

“Pfft!”

Brazenly lifting such a crude, doodle-like garbage cover? Where did this confidence come from?

Ayano shook her head, sneering dismissively.

“Sorry. I doubt I’ll remember something so forgettable. But… I’ll try.”

Himekoji never expected his submission to turn into such a tense confrontation.

It was clear he had completely messed up the publication deal for One-Punch Man this time.

But by now, Himekoji didn’t care. Instead of getting angry, he even narrowed his eyes with a confident, gentle smile.

“It’s fine. I’ll make you remember—both the work and the person.”

As long as the manga was exceptional, it wouldn’t matter which platform published it.

His magnetic voice was soft and slow, like a blade that wouldn’t cut.

With that, he turned around.

There was no reason to stay any longer, right?

…

He’d only taken a single step, though—

“Hey. Take your trash with you. Thanks.”

As the words landed, rustle—

The manuscript left on the desk was carelessly tossed toward him by the female editor.

He’d arrived in a hurry and hadn’t bound the pages. Now, every sheet scattered across the floor.

A chaotic mess.

“Heh.”

Facing such treatment, he only gave a light laugh. Himekoji kept his cool well enough.

Unfazed, he crouched down, picking up the One-Punch Man pages one by one.

Crouching with his head down, he barely noticed the figure in front of him.

Suddenly—thud—his head bumped into someone.

“Ouch!” he yelped softly, hastily looking up.

The light, fresh scent of a girl’s hair wafted over him, followed by the sight of a face pure and white as milk, inches from his own.

“Does… drawing skill really not matter?”

Blinking her lovely phoenix-shaped eyes, Shiina Mashiro tilted her head slightly, staring straight at Himekoji.

“Of course… it matters.”

Himekoji answered with a smile.

This was the first girl who’d ever complimented him. He didn’t want to lie to her.

Showing up at the editorial office at this hour, a young student no less—no doubt, she must be a manga artist, likely a new one just starting out.

He didn’t want his nonsense to mislead her.

What if she took his words seriously and neglected her art?

It’d be unforgivable.

For manga, both story and drawings are essential.

This holds true for most mangaka.

But the reason it’s “most” and not “all” is that some people shatter those rules.

Take ONE Sensei from his past life, for example—his two masterpieces:

One-Punch Man and Mob Psycho 100.

Both had crude, rough, even embarrassingly simple art, yet somehow exploded into massive hits.

The first, One-Punch Man, racked up 20,000 daily views during its web serialization, with total readers surpassing 10 million!

The latter, Mob Psycho 100, built on the first’s success and dominated Ura Sunday’s user ratings from day one, holding the No.1 spot in votes!

Why?

Because they were fun. Ridiculously fun.

If your work grabs people, who cares if your art’s “embarrassingly simple” or dismissed by pros as “doodles”?

Didn’t it spark a magic craze?

Those very readers who first mocked, “Garbage art—won’t read!” ended up surrendered, shouting, “The art’s weirdly cool!” and “Can’t stop reading!”

In the end, a manga’s success isn’t decided by editors.

It’s decided by the readers.

…

“Thanks,” Himekoji said softly, accepting the pages the girl had helped him gather.

…