The inside of the tent was dimly lit, but the computer screen was on, indicating it had power.
On the ground were various items neatly arranged.
A wide assortment of light novels, manga, magazines, figures, dolls, and other merchandise.
But strangely, there wasn't a single music-related item.
The three of them stared in awe.
Gōtō Ichiri couldn't help but think that maybe living in a place like this wouldn't be so bad in the future.
Shiro Aki, meanwhile, noticed that many of these light novels were his own works.
Seeing them brought back memories of the glory days when he used to copy light novels and write them himself.
Aside from the slime he had just discovered, there were also series like Re:Zero kara Hajimeru Isekai Seikatsu, KonoSuba: God's Blessing on This Wonderful World!, and Great Teacher Onizuka: No Problem in Youth Romance Stories, among a number of other classic long-running works.
However, these works had one thing in common: only a handful of volumes existed because Shiro Aki had only updated a few.
He simply couldn't keep up with writing the later storylines; the plot ideas ran dry.
Thanks to his experience across multiple genres, Shiro Aki had earned the nickname "Hexagonal Warrior" in the industry.
Perhaps his writing wasn't top-tier, and he didn't have any sort of golden finger.
He could only rely on his memory and sheer determination in literature to reproduce these popular works.
Only Nijika's expression darkened as she realized just how deeply Ryō had been poisoned by these works.
Light novels were not to be trifled with!
Ryō had now become a true otaku through and through.
"Amen."
Yamada Ryō pressed her hands together, slightly bowed her head, and whispered with closed eyes.
Huh?
Shiro Aki and the others' attention was drawn to her actions.
Yamada Ryō was facing the small table in the center, seemingly performing some kind of ritual.
However, when Shiro Aki saw the black-and-white photo inside the memorial frame, his pupils constricted.
No wonder her eyelids kept twitching.
So you're the culprit.
Yamada Ryō, have you no heart!
Of course, the photo wasn't of Shiro Aki himself—he had never revealed his identity.
Instead, it was a PS composite photo of the light novel author Shiro Aki, featuring several of his works, with his pen name printed prominently.
Extremely eye-catching.
Ho Hiho.
That was Shiro Aki's pen name for publishing light novels.
The characters Ho and Hi together formed the kanji for "Aki" in Shiro Aki.
The final Ho represented his firm belief that his works would definitely become popular.
Why choose such a name?
Well, light novel authors in Japan had a few restrictions when picking pen names, unlike web novel writers in China who could be more casual.
At the very least, the name couldn't be too sloppy or crude.
After all, a well-written light novel might get physically published, and the author's name would inevitably appear on the book cover.
Publishers naturally preferred a standardized, respectable pen name.
Of course, online web serialization had no such constraints.
So although the name seemed ordinary, it had been carefully thought out by Shiro Aki.
Shiro Aki didn't have time to dwell on sorrow. He wanted to say something but found no words.
Why isn't it your face in the photo, Kita…
It should have been a comical scene, but when it happened to him personally, it wasn't funny at all.
…
"Ryō, what are you doing?" Nijika asked.
"I'm paying respects to this departed author. I do it every day."
Finally, Shiro Aki couldn't hold back: "Ryō, this author… isn't… surely still alive, right?"
Gōtō Ichiri also looked at the photo in confusion. She knew this author too.
Yamada Ryō glanced at them. "If the works aren't being updated, what's the difference from being gone?"
Shiro Aki was left speechless.
"Hmm… she has a point," Nijika said reluctantly.
Shiro Aki was struck— even Nijika thought so? Could he really be wrong?
No, it wasn't him who was wrong—it was this world.
…
Then Yamada Ryō continued, explaining that several of the author's series had stopped after a few volumes, and that the publisher's editors had issued a statement claiming the author was unwell and hospitalized.
Shiro Aki thought to himself: "Machida-san, don't put me in the hospital without permission!"
"This author does have a few completed works," Shiro Aki couldn't help but defend himself.
"For example, Your Name, I Want to Eat Your Pancreas, Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day…"
"But… those are all deeply depressing works," Gōtō Ichiri suddenly said. Being naturally pessimistic, seeing these made her feel even less hopeful about life.
"Huh? Ichiri, you read them too? Now that I hear it, this author really is a bit… you know!" Nijika commented.
Shiro Aki wanted to cry but had no tears.
He wanted to say, this is really all just a coincidence!
He had only been thinking about making quick money at the time. Quick money meant short stories, the kind suitable for movie adaptations.
Also, he remembered short stories better and could finish them easily.
He really had no "knife man" intentions!
Adjusting his breath slightly, Shiro Aki continued.
"But these works all received good reviews."
"That's true," Yamada Ryō didn't argue this time.
Shiro Aki finally felt a little comforted.
"Oh, Nijika, this one is for you."
Without explanation, Yamada Ryō produced another memorial frame and handed it to Nijika.
Seeing the person in the frame, Nijika was startled.
"Don't just… kill people off!"
Wait, Nijika, you didn't say that earlier.
This time, the photo was a black-and-white of Kita Ikuyo.
Kita Ikuyo's face still beamed with her radiant, sunny smile.
"I heard from the shop manager that your guitarist and lead singer disappeared, so I made one for you too," Yamada Ryō said.
Nijika sighed and covered the frame for safekeeping.
Shiro Aki felt much better seeing Kita's photo included.
But Kita herself hadn't seen it yet!
He had to make sure she saw it with her own eyes.
Gōtō Ichiri looked pale. "Ryō… you're scary. You just handed out death sentences to two people that easily."
To avoid dwelling too much on this topic, Shiro Aki quickly asked: "So, Ryō, your musical spirit… died because this author stopped updating?"
Yamada Ryō nodded.
Nijika's face turned pale—just because of this reason, it had affected her bond with Ryō.
She had thought it would be some other, more legitimate reason.
A small sense of curiosity and tiny resentment toward the author "Ho Hiho" arose in her heart.
"So that means… as long as this author resumes… cough… updates, your musical spirit can be revived?" Shiro Aki asked.
Yamada Ryō blinked. "Should, maybe, probably?"
"Give me a definite answer!" Nijika demanded.
"Well, that author probably won't come back anyway," Yamada Ryō wiped away imaginary tears.
Shiro Aki smiled. "Not necessarily."
It seemed he would have to return to the scene to get Yamada Ryō to pick up the bass again.
The three of them looked at Shiro Aki curiously.
"As I said earlier, I've been reading this author's books too."
Yamada Ryō nodded. She still thought Shiro Aki was trying to excuse this detestable author.
"And… actually, I have a friend…"
"The parents of this friend work at the same publisher as Ho Hiho, so I have some inside information."
"Although it's insider info, it's almost certainly true—Ho Hiho will update next month."
"So Ryō, can you come play bass then?"
"Really?" Gōtō Ichiri and Nijika's hopes were reignited.
One wanted to see the next chapters, the other wanted Ryō to play bass again.
Shiro Aki nodded confidently.
Yamada Ryō, however, calmly asked: "What if there's no update?"
Shiro Aki was momentarily stunned. True to form—so calm, not falling for it.
Rolling his eyes, Shiro Aki added:
"If there's no update, I'll give you a book signed by Ho Hiho."
After all, a signature was a trivial effort for Shiro Aki.
Yamada Ryō's eyes lit up.
This seemed doable.
Signed editions were worth a lot on the second-hand market!
Whether the author came back or not didn't matter anymore—if anything, it might even make the signed book more valuable.
"Deal!"
Yamada Ryō said quickly.