Michatsu didn't celebrate after sending the message.
He didn't panic either.
He just… sat there.
Phone on the table.
Screen dark.
Room quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator.
"…So now what?" he muttered.
The answer arrived faster than he liked.
1. Negotiations, But With Softer Words
The reply came the next morning.
He'd been brushing his teeth, half-awake, when his phone buzzed.
He ignored it.
Finished brushing.
Rinsed.
Spat.
Only then did he pick it up.
MJ_Editor_Saito:
Thank you for your response.
We respect your preference for anonymity at this stage.
We'd like to discuss:
– Publication schedule
– Rights management
– Long-term creative direction
Michatsu stared.
"…That's a lot of words for 'we want you'," he murmured.
His brain immediately tried to retreat.
I could still ghost them, a lazy voice suggested.
Another voice — quieter, newer — replied:
And waste this?
He sighed.
"Fine."
He typed carefully.
I'm open to discussion.
Please outline expectations first.
He read it twice.
Nodded.
Sent.
It felt strange — not submitting, not begging, but setting terms.
Even stranger was how… natural it felt once he did it.
The reply came ten minutes later.
Of course.
We'd like to begin with a meeting.
Michatsu blinked.
"…Meeting?"
His stomach dipped.
2. That Word Carries Weight
Meeting.
Not chat.
Not email.
Not survey.
Meeting meant faces.
Voices.
People who could look at him and decide things.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming.
I don't have to show my real face, he reminded himself.
Anonymity. I already said it.
Still.
Meetings were dangerous.
Because they made things real.
He typed.
Remote?
The reply came almost immediately.
Naturally.
We'll accommodate.
Michatsu exhaled.
"…Good," he muttered. "Good."
But his pulse hadn't slowed.
3. Elsewhere, Rivals Adjust
Sakuraba Tōru refreshed the page.
Again.
The editor's note was gone.
Replaced with something worse.
Status: Ongoing Discussion
"…So you answered," Sakuraba murmured.
He leaned back, folding his arms.
"That's disappointing."
Not because Karma responded.
But because he responded correctly.
No defensive rant.
No public declaration.
No ego.
Just… control.
"That narrows it down," Sakuraba said softly.
He opened another private channel.
Karma is smart.
Treat him like one.
Replies trickled in.
Some skeptical.
Some annoyed.
Some quietly wary.
A few asked the question none of them liked.
What if he really is just better?
Sakuraba closed the window.
"…Then this industry's about to change," he said.
And he hated that thought.
4. Michatsu Does Normal Things (Badly)
Michatsu went grocery shopping.
He needed milk.
He forgot milk.
Came home with snacks, instant noodles, and something labeled "nutritional."
"Close enough," he muttered.
He tried to distract himself by cleaning.
That lasted twelve minutes.
His thoughts kept circling back.
What do they want from me?
What do I want from them?
That second question lingered longer.
"…Money," he said aloud.
"Freedom. Time."
The system flickered faintly.
He ignored it.
5. Manga Jump Makes It Official
The formal email arrived that evening.
Calendar invite.
Video call link.
List of attendees.
Editor-in-Chief.
Senior Producer.
Legal Representative.
Michatsu stared.
"…That feels excessive."
He reread the subject line.
Manga Jump — Creator Discussion (Karma)
Seeing the name like that — official, capitalized — made his chest tighten.
Karma, he thought.
That's me now.
He accepted the invite.
Immediately regretted how easy that was.
6. Reactions Ripple Outward
The industry noticed.
Quietly.
A scheduled meeting wasn't public information, but people who knew how to read signs… read them.
Forums buzzed differently now.
Not hype.
Speculation.
"They're courting him."
"This is fast."
"Why hasn't he announced anything?"
Readers wondered.
Critics theorized.
Rivals recalculated.
And Michatsu?
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling again.
"…I really didn't plan this far," he admitted.
The system finally chimed.
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
[Milestone Approaching]
Negotiation Phase Initiated
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
He snorted.
"Of course it is."
7. The Meeting Looms
The date sat on his calendar.
Three days away.
Plenty of time.
Not nearly enough.
Michatsu rolled onto his side.
"…Guess I should prepare," he muttered.
He didn't move.
But this time, the thought didn't scare him.
It felt… inevitable.
8. Rivals Don't Announce Themselves
No one ever said, "I am your rival."
That only happened in bad manga.
Real rivals did quieter things.
They asked questions in the wrong places.
They noticed patterns others ignored.
They smiled while calculating whether you were worth hating yet.
Sakuraba Tōru didn't post.
Didn't comment.
Didn't speculate publicly.
He observed.
Seven chapters.
Uploaded clean.
No revisions.
"No revisions," he repeated softly.
That bothered him more than the art.
Because editors always demanded revisions.
Which meant either Karma had leverage…
or Karma didn't need approval.
Neither answer was good.
9. The Industry's Version of Whispering
Private chats began to change tone.
Not loud accusations.
Not praise.
Concern.
"Anyone know where Karma came from?"
"Feels sudden."
"Is Jump really okay with this?"
Sakuraba read without replying.
He watched as newer creators grew defensive, older ones cautious.
Some were impressed.
Some were threatened.
A few were angry in the way only people who'd worked too hard for too long could be.
"If this is a ghost studio, Jump's breaking their own rules."
Sakuraba tilted his head.
"…Rules," he murmured.
That was a lever.
10. Michatsu Feels the Weather Change
Michatsu didn't know any of this.
But he felt something shift.
His phone buzzed more.
Notifications piled up faster.
Mentions he didn't open multiplied.
He tried to ignore it by cooking again.
Burned the food.
"Wow," he muttered. "Consistent."
He ate anyway, scrolling aimlessly.
A forum post caught his eye.
Thread Title:
Unpopular Opinion: Karma Is Overhyped
He clicked before he could stop himself.
Bad idea.
The post wasn't cruel.
That was worse.
It was measured.
Well-written.
Reasonable.
Dissecting pacing, originality, tone.
Pointing out similarities to existing supernatural tropes.
"…Those exist?" Michatsu frowned.
He scrolled.
Replies argued back.
Some defended.
Some agreed.
No one mentioned plagiarism.
But the implication lingered.
This isn't new.
Michatsu's stomach tightened.
"…I didn't think about that," he whispered.
11. Rivals Test the Water
Sakuraba sent his first message that night.
Not to Karma.
To an editor he'd worked with before.
Casual. Friendly.
"Out of curiosity — how's Jump handling the Karma situation?"
The reply took longer than usual.
When it came, it was careful.
"With interest. Why?"
Sakuraba smiled thinly.
"Just wondering if procedures changed."
No answer.
That silence told him enough.
"…They're protecting him," Sakuraba said.
Which meant Jump saw value.
Which meant time mattered.
12. The First Knife Isn't Sharp
The next article dropped quietly.
Not on a major site.
A niche industry blog.
Title:
"Anonymity and Authorship: Where Should Manga Draw the Line?"
Karma wasn't named.
But everyone knew.
The article didn't accuse.
It questioned.
Was anonymity fair to assistants?
Was it ethical to bypass traditional debut channels?
Did readers deserve transparency?
Michatsu read it twice.
"…Why does this feel like it's about me," he muttered.
The comments were worse.
Not hateful.
Concerned.
That word again.
Concerned.
He closed the page.
His heart thumped.
Not panic yet.
But alert.
13. Sakuraba Sharpens His Smile
Sakuraba read the article.
Didn't comment.
Didn't share.
But he bookmarked it.
"This is how it starts," he said softly.
Not with fire.
With fog.
If Karma pushed forward, the fog would thicken.
If Karma hesitated, it would swallow him.
Either way…
"He'll have to move," Sakuraba murmured.
And movement revealed mistakes.
14. Michatsu Connects an Uncomfortable Dot
That night, Michatsu lay awake.
Ceiling.
Dark room.
Phone face-down.
They're not attacking me, he thought.
They're… circling.
That realization unsettled him more than anger would have.
Because circles closed.
Slowly.
He sat up, rubbing his face.
"…I don't even know who they are," he whispered.
The system flickered faintly.
┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓
[Observation]
External Pressure Increasing
┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
"Yeah," he muttered. "I noticed."
15. The Chapter Doesn't End With Victory
No confrontation happened that night.
No public drama.
No messages from rivals.
Just the sense that something invisible had shifted its weight.
Michatsu stared at his blank drawing pad.
"…Guess lying low won't work forever," he said quietly.
Not resignation.
Preparation.
Somewhere else, Sakuraba closed his laptop.
"This will be interesting," he said.
And meant none of it kindly.
16. Escalation Doesn't Look Like Violence
Rivals didn't attack Karma.
That would've been crude.
What they did instead was far more refined.
A discussion thread appeared on a semi-private industry board — not public enough to trend, but visible to people who mattered.
"Question: Should competition entries be required to disclose prior creative experience?"
No names.
No accusations.
Just a question.
Someone replied.
"Anonymity is fine, but standards exist for a reason."
Another:
"If this becomes precedent, it disadvantages emerging creators who follow the rules."
The thread stayed pinned longer than usual.
Sakuraba Tōru watched without contributing.
Good.
Let others say it.
Let the idea spread on its own.
17. Meanwhile, Michatsu Scrolls
Michatsu Kashimo was lying on his side, phone held inches from his face, thumb moving automatically.
"…Wow," he murmured.
He was reading comments again.
He knew he shouldn't.
He knew this was unhealthy.
But curiosity had won.
"Chapter 4's paneling gave me chills."
"I didn't even notice the lack of dialogue until it hit."
"Why does this feel so… confident?"
Michatsu frowned.
"Confident?" he repeated quietly.
That word showed up a lot.
He scrolled further.
Fan theories.
Scene breakdowns.
People arguing over symbolism he hadn't intended.
"…They're making stuff up," he muttered.
And yet — not all of it was wrong.
That unsettled him.
18. Hype Is Loud, But Also Soft
He clicked a reaction post.
Someone had screenshotted a single page — the one with the lingering silence.
The caption read:
"This page alone proves Karma understands restraint."
Michatsu stared.
"…I was just tired," he said aloud.
He closed the post.
Opened another.
An amateur essay.
Long. Earnest.
Titled:
"Why Karma's Horror Feels Modern"
He skimmed.
Stopped.
Read properly.
The writer talked about atmosphere. Negative space. Emotional pacing.
Michatsu swallowed.
They're talking about it like it's intentional.
That felt wrong.
And flattering.
And heavy.
19. Rivals Push Through Process
Another escalation.
Still quiet.
Still polite.
A formal inquiry was sent to Manga Jump's internal review team.
No accusations.
Just a request.
"Clarification requested regarding anonymous creator compliance with debut guidelines."
Paperwork.
The most exhausting weapon imaginable.
Sakuraba leaned back in his chair after sending it.
"They'll stall," he said calmly. "But they won't ignore it."
And stalling slowed momentum.
20. Michatsu Notices Something Else Instead
Michatsu noticed his follower count.
He hadn't checked in a while.
He probably shouldn't have.
"…Huh."
He refreshed.
It went up.
Again.
He stared.
"That's… not normal."
He wasn't smiling.
Not really.
The number didn't feel real.
It felt like watching water rise behind glass.
Contained.
For now.
21. Praise Starts to Sound Different
The tone shifted.
Not overnight.
Gradually.
Early comments had been excited.
Now they were… expectant.
"What's next?"
"He has to keep this level."
"I hope Jump doesn't ruin him."
Ruin.
That word stuck.
"…Why is that my problem," Michatsu muttered.
He closed the app and tossed his phone onto the bed.
Stared at the ceiling.
The room felt smaller tonight.
22. Rivals Don't Care About Feelings
Another article.
Another blog.
This one framed as industry analysis.
"Anonymity as Brand: Innovation or Risk?"
Still no names.
Still no accusations.
But the implication thickened.
Comments debated whether Karma's mystery was marketing.
If Jump was complicit.
If readers were being manipulated.
Sakuraba read every word.
Satisfied.
Not because it hurt Karma.
But because it introduced doubt.
23. Michatsu Laughs (A Little Too Loud)
Michatsu read a comment accusing Karma of being a corporate plant.
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
"That's insane," he said, shaking his head.
He leaned back, amused.
"A plant? Me?"
The idea felt ridiculous.
Comforting, even.
See? his brain whispered. They don't know anything.
He didn't see the danger.
Because from his angle, everything still felt unreal.
24. The Gap Widens
That was the problem.
Rivals were operating in policy spaces.
Editors were navigating optics.
Readers were escalating expectations.
And Michatsu?
He was still thinking like someone who could walk away.
He opened his sketchbook.
Drew absentminded lines.
"…I should probably plan ahead," he muttered.
But he didn't.
Not yet.
25. Pressure Without a Name
Sakuraba closed his laptop for the night.
The pieces were moving.
Not fast.
Not visibly.
But inevitably.
He didn't need Karma to fail.
He just needed Karma to hesitate.
And hesitation, he knew, came naturally to people who hadn't planned this far.
26. End Without Resolution
Michatsu lay in bed again.
Phone on his chest.
Ceiling unchanged.
"…People really like it," he whispered.
That thought lingered.
Warm.
Dangerous.
Outside his awareness, the ground continued to shift.
27. Names Start to Exist
It began with names.
That was how it became real.
Not headlines.
Not speculation.
Not threads or essays or opinions.
Names.
Inside Manga Jump's offices, emails moved between departments with increasing regularity. The language was still polite. Still neutral. But the frequency changed. The phrasing sharpened.
From: Saito Haruka — Senior Editor
To: Aoyama Keiji — Editorial Director
Re: Upcoming discussion regarding Karma
Another followed.
From: Tanabe Ryou — Legal Affairs
We should be present. Anonymity boundaries need clarification.
And another.
From: Mizuno Emi — Talent Management
If this proceeds, expectations must be aligned early.
The meeting didn't exist yet in public space.
But internally?
It had weight.
People adjusted schedules.
Moved deadlines.
Cleared rooms.
Names spoke to names.
And when names connected, things stopped being hypothetical.
28. The Industry Feels It Before It Sees It
Word didn't spread openly.
It leaked.
A producer mentioned "something big" to a colleague over drinks.
An assistant overheard a conversation in a hallway.
A freelancer noticed a sudden calendar blackout at Jump.
No one had details.
But everyone felt it.
Something is coming.
Forums changed tone again.
Less arguing.
More waiting.
"Jump doesn't move like this unless it's serious."
"They don't schedule for ghosts."
The word meeting began appearing in whispers.
Not confirmed.
But suspected.
29. Rivals Grow Quiet
Sakuraba Tōru noticed the silence before the rumors.
That was always the tell.
Editors stopped responding as quickly.
Private chats stalled.
Questions were acknowledged, then deferred.
"…So it's happening," he murmured.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling of his studio.
Not angry.
Not relieved.
Just… alert.
A meeting meant Jump was choosing to engage, not investigate.
That narrowed the battlefield.
And raised the stakes.
Sakuraba didn't smile.
Meetings favored those who could speak.
And he still didn't know if Karma could.
30. Michatsu Learns the Word
Michatsu learned about the meeting by accident.
He was half-asleep, scrolling aimlessly, when a private message popped up from the editor again.
MJ_Editor_Saito:
We'll be arranging a discussion soon. Details to follow.
Michatsu stared at the word.
Discussion.
"…So it's official," he whispered.
He locked his phone.
Unlocked it.
Locked it again.
His heart wasn't racing.
It was sinking.
Like something heavy settling into place.
31. Waiting Is Worse Than Panic
The days that followed were unbearable in a quiet way.
No new emails.
No updates.
No dates.
Just anticipation.
Michatsu tried to distract himself.
He cleaned.
Rearranged furniture.
Tried to draw.
Failed.
His lines felt stiff.
Overthought.
"…Stop," he muttered, erasing the same sketch for the fourth time.
He leaned back, rubbing his temples.
What are they going to ask?
What do they want to hear?
What if I say the wrong thing?
The questions looped endlessly.
He didn't know enough to prepare.
And that made preparation impossible.
32. Names Become Faces (In His Head)
Without meaning to, Michatsu began imagining them.
Editors with sharp eyes.
Legal reps with careful smiles.
Producers weighing him like a product.
He imagined their reactions.
Their pauses.
Their silence.
"…I hate this," he whispered.
He'd faced monsters in manga without flinching.
This?
This was worse.
33. Everyone Who Knows Is Nervous
Inside Manga Jump, people were careful.
Even those who wanted this.
Because Karma wasn't just promising.
He was volatile.
No history.
No track record.
No known temperament.
A bad meeting could turn him into a liability.
A good one could redefine the magazine's future.
That made everyone cautious.
And nervous.
34. Rivals Watch the Clock
Sakuraba checked his calendar.
No changes.
But he felt it.
The air before a storm.
"…Don't mess this up," he murmured—not to Karma, but to the industry itself.
If Jump mishandled this, everything would ripple.
Standards.
Expectations.
Power.
35. Michatsu Counts the Days Without Numbers
Michatsu stopped checking the date.
Time felt strange now.
Compressed.
Every hour stretched, yet passed unnoticed.
He lay on his futon one night, phone resting on his chest.
"…I didn't think it'd go this far," he said softly.
Not regret.
Just disbelief.
The system didn't interrupt.
Didn't advise.
Didn't comfort.
This wasn't its choice anymore.
36. The Message Finally Comes
The notification arrived late.
Later than he expected.
Later than he wanted.
His phone buzzed once.
Michatsu didn't move.
Buzzed again.
He swallowed.
Picked it up.
MJ_Editor_Saito:
Details forthcoming. Please be prepared.
Prepared.
He stared at the word.
"…For what," he whispered.
He didn't reply.
He didn't need to.
The meeting was no longer a possibility.
It was a certainty.
37. End of Chapter 9
Outside, speculation hardened into expectation.
Inside, plans solidified.
And Michatsu Kashimo lay awake, staring at the ceiling, fully aware of one thing:
Whatever happened next—
He wouldn't be invisible anymore.