Back in his room, Vos dropped his bag, pulled out paper and pen, and sat down ready to write. He got a few words out before freezing.
"Hold on. I should check how publishing works in this world."
Tom and Jerry both stared at him. He had been excited at the internet café already, and now he was switching gears again. They exchanged a look that basically said: Here we go again.
"I remember seeing something about publishing houses earlier. Let me double-check the submission process." Vos flipped through the notes he'd scribbled down.
After sorting his thoughts, he confirmed what he remembered. In 2007, American publishing was still mostly old-school. Authors mailed synopses and sample chapters to editors. Online submissions existed, but they weren't mainstream yet.
"That's great. No need to mess with website platforms." Vos let out a relieved breath.
"Just send it straight to a publisher."
But another worry hit him.
"Will American readers even like those niche Eastern-style fantasy systems?" He frowned.
"Leveling up through obscure stages… won't that confuse everyone?"
He recalled the trends he saw online. The U.S. market in 2007 leaned toward fantasy, sci-fi, and mystery. But their fantasy was the Western type—dragons, wizards, magic schools—not energy training systems or mystical bloodlines.
"If I write something with energy techniques forming animals, will they think it's too weird? If nobody understands it, I'm done for," Vos muttered.
Tom noticed his expression, padded over, and tapped his leg.
A silent: What now?
"I'm thinking about what kind of novel to write," Vos said. "That kind of fantasy might be too dense. I need something easier to digest."
He went through all the webnovel categories he remembered. Sure, some genres had big entry barriers… but plenty didn't.
"Rebirth. Transmigration!" His eyes lit up. "Everyone understands those. And I can tie them to American history."
The appeal was simple: the hero goes back in time, knows exactly what's coming, and rewrites their fate. No complicated worldbuilding required. Anyone could follow it.
"And it's satisfying!" Vos stood, energized. "The protagonist knows stocks, major events, future billionaires—nobody can resist that."
Jerry climbed onto the table and peeked at his notes.
Vos started brainstorming titles:
"Civil War Breakout: President Lincoln Invites Me Three Times."
Reborn in the Civil War, modern military knowledge, legendary strategist.
"Afghanistan War King Returns, Daughter Trapped on Lolita Island."
Retired special forces, reborn early, hunts down the kidnappers.
"Signing in with a Weapon System, I Became America's Biggest Arms Dealer."
Transmigrated on the eve of WWII, gains advanced weapons, makes a fortune.
"I Transmigrated to 9/11: Watch Me Save the Twin Towers."
"Heh, these are gold," Vos said proudly.
Then reality hit.
"It's 2007. Is writing about 9/11 too sensitive?" Six years wasn't long.
He crossed that one out.
And then something clicked.
"Wait… Captain America!"
Of course. In this Marvel world, Steve Rogers was a cultural icon. A WWII legend frozen in ice—though still napping in that ice block right now. Perfect material for fiction.
"And everyone knows his story. I can write about a comrade who fought beside him!" Vos felt the spark return.
He scribbled a new title:
"Reborn and Traveled Through World War II, I Became Captain America's Comrade."
Perfect. Transmigration. WWII. Superheroes. Brotherhood.
A guaranteed hit.
"This is it!" Vos clenched his fist.
Tom and Jerry watched him bounce around, clueless but happy that he was happy.
Vos dove into plotting.
The protagonist is a modern military nerd who somehow ends up in 1942 America—and discovers he's a mutant with insane regeneration. He knows Steve Rogers is about to become Captain America.
He joins the army, rises fast thanks to his abilities, and witnesses Steve's transformation. Later, they become partners, running special missions, fighting HYDRA, and battling Red Skull.
"The core is the bond," Vos muttered as he wrote. "From strangers to teammates to brothers—readers love that."
The protagonist would also help Howard Stark design gear, drop hints about future tech, and even play wingman for Steve and Peggy.
In the final showdown, the protagonist takes Steve's place piloting the doomed aircraft into the Arctic and tells Steve to go live the life he deserves with Peggy.
"Tell me that's not satisfying," Vos said, admiring his notes.
His reason for making the hero a mutant was simple: if his novel blew up, maybe he could shift public opinion toward mutants.
He was in a full creative trance when Tom tugged his sleeve and pointed at the clock.
"It's already five?" Vos blinked. "Tom, you need to get ready for the restaurant."
Tom nodded, still curious about the plot but unable to skip work.
"Go change into your tailcoat. I'll pack this up." Vos collected his notes. "After your performance tonight, I'll start the actual writing."
Half an hour later, the trio reached the Blue Danube again.
There were even more guests than yesterday. A lot had come solely for the piano-playing cat.
"Mr. Tom! You're here!" Franz waved. "Several tables came just for you!"
Tom puffed out his chest and strutted in.
"Don't let them down," Vos said, patting his shoulder.
Tom walked toward the piano, tailcoat swaying, and the restaurant burst into applause.
"That's the cat who plays?"
"Incredible."
"I saw the video and had to hear him myself."
Vos listened to the chatter, pleased. Tom's rising popularity would definitely help them survive here.
Then the first note landed, and the place went quiet. Tom had chosen Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. The soft, steady music filled the restaurant.
Vos sat in the corner, watching Tom play with full focus. If Tom was working this hard, he couldn't slack either. He pulled out his paper again and started shaping the opening of his novel.
"My name is John Smith. I used to be an ordinary military enthusiast. If someone told me I would wake up in 1942 America as a mutant and end up fighting alongside Captain America, I would've said they were insane—"