Now that I knew what I wanted to draw, it was time to make preparations.
From the description of this "super healthy body," all my capabilities had been enhanced — which also meant my memory.
So I thought, maybe this would work for remembering everything I've ever read.
After testing it for a bit, it seemed like it worked.
Hahaha!
Nobody can stop me from becoming a legendary mangaka.
After that day, I kept up my routine — hitting the gym, slowly improving — but also started going out to gather materials I'd need to draw.
I even managed to arrange a meeting with Shueisha.
I had already drawn some manuscripts for Parasyte, but decided to submit something original first.
I figured my drawing skills alone would impress them enough to keep me around.
And when they inevitably asked for something that could really sell, I'd pull out Parasyte like a trump card.
Keikaku dōri.
After a few days, the big day arrived.
I bid farewell to my mom — she was teary again, thinking I was going out to job-hunt.
Well… technically yes, but ugh, I hated how the word "job" sounded.
The J-word. Gross.
This time, I took the subway.
It was only my second time ever using it — I had only come to Japan once in my past life.
Luckily, it wasn't rush hour, so it was chill.
When I arrived at the Shueisha building, it was… kind of underwhelming.
Seems like entertainment was really behind in this world.
Don't worry — Daddy Yu is here to fix that.
With my usual deadpan face, I entered the old building.
Apparently, I wasn't the only one waiting to meet an editor — a few others were sitting around, clinging to their manuscripts like nervous kids.
Eventually, it was my turn.
"Sir Yu Watanabe, please follow me," a tall man said.
Well, everyone's tall when you're 5'6.
But hey, I haven't given up hope — maybe this "super healthy" body upgrade could help me grow a few inches.
Down there too? Because… yeah, that was a little underwhelming.
We arrived at what seemed to be the editor's office.
It was surprisingly cramped — or maybe I was just that big.
"Do you need another seat?" the editor asked, a little concerned.
Probably more for the chair than for me.
"No, it's okay," I replied.
"Sir Watanabe, right?"
"Yes."
"You contacted us because you want to publish a manga, correct?"
"Yes."
"Well, there are a few things you should know," he continued.
"The job of a mangaka is ungrateful, and very few ever attain even half the level of Sir Osamu Tezuka."
"I understand."
"Well, it seems like you know what you're getting into.
I'm Sato Kakeru — pleased to meet you.
Now then, let's move forward. As you know, you must submit at least 20 pages of story.
Do you have that?"
"Yes. Here it is."
I handed over the envelope.
"Hmm… what—" Sato exclaimed.
"Is there a problem?" I asked, feigning concern.
"No, not at all. Quite the opposite.
While your story is lacking," he said bluntly,
"your drawing quality and panel placement are exceptional. You have a great future ahead of you."
"Is that so?" I replied, pretending to be surprised — though honestly, the 'story is lacking' part kind of offended me.
After that, he kept praising the artwork, gave me some constructive pointers, and said that even with my weak story, I could already be featured in Weekly Shonen Jump.
Then he said, "Come back in two weeks. Bring another story — something with real impact."
Perfect. Just as planned.
That's when I'll show him the Parasyte chapter I drew.
Well… I did tweak it a bit.
I adjusted the tone and design to better match the anime that came out much later — made it more digestible for this era.
It would resonate more.
Now the stage is set.
Time to blow their minds.
Two weeks later, I returned to Shueisha, manuscript in hand, feeling more confident than ever. This time, I was armed with the first chapter of Parasyte — reworked, refined, and adjusted to match this world's context and aesthetic preferences. It was still the Parasyte I loved, but now with a modern twist that would hit harder for readers who'd never experienced anything like it.
As expected, Sato-san was stunned.
His eyes widened as he flipped through the pages, pausing at key panels, occasionally muttering under his breath things like "incredible linework" or "this tension is insane."
When he finally looked up, there was a glow in his eyes. "This… this could be a series, Watanabe-san. It's got everything. Suspense, action, a philosophical undertone, and the horror is grounded yet deeply fascinating. Where did you come up with this concept?"
I gave him the most humble shrug I could muster, trying to look like a struggling artist who struck gold by accident.
"You know, just a weird dream I had," I lied smoothly. "Felt like it had potential, so I went with it."
He nodded, clearly impressed, then launched into a discussion about serialization, audience targeting, and how to build an early fanbase. I listened carefully, nodding, taking notes, acting like I didn't already know exactly what I was doing.
But here's the trick — I knew if I came across as too perfect, too prepared, it would raise red flags. Nobody likes a genius out of nowhere.
So, I purposely included a few "mistakes" in the script. A slightly rushed panel transition here, a rough patch of dialogue there.
Things that Sato could point out, things that made him feel like he was mentoring me.
It would make this entire process feel more organic, more believable.
And just like that, I had him. Hook, line, and sinker.
He praised my adaptability, gave me tips I "hadn't thought about," and confirmed that they would start preparing to test the waters for serialization.
But what I didn't expect… was just how fast Parasyte would explode.
Author's note: Well that's it for now, leave some power stones and some comments please.