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The coffee shop was buzzing with the low hum of conversation and the hiss of espresso machines, but at their booth, the air was thick with calculation.
Leo knew the numbers. He'd done the research. In the Japanese light novel industry, the royalty rate was a monolith. It stood at a rigid 10%, a figure carved in stone by decades of industry standard. Whether you were a rookie or a veteran, the publisher took the risk, handled the distribution, and fronted the printing costs. In exchange, the author got a tithe.
It was fair, mostly. A 10% royalty from a top-tier publisher like Dengeki Bunko—with their marketing war machine and massive distribution network—was worth far more than a higher percentage from a no-name press that couldn't get your book into a convenience store.
"Shinazugawa Bunko is prepared to make an exception," Kawada Yuichiro said, leaning over the table. His large frame seemed to vibrate with intensity. "We are willing to offer you a 15% royalty rate."
Machida Sonoko's eyes widened slightly, though she quickly masked it with a sip of her coffee. Five percent might not sound like much to a layman, but in publishing margins? It was massive. It cut directly into the company's net profit. It was a concession born of pure, unadulterated desperation.
They really are a sinking ship looking for a lifeboat, Leo thought, his mind running the math. If I sell a million copies, that extra five percent is enough to buy a small island.
Leo didn't hesitate. He offered a relaxed, predatory smile.
"A 15% royalty is an offer I'd be foolish to refuse. You have a deal, Kawada-san."
"Thank you! Thank you very much!" Kawada practically leaped from his seat, bowing so deeply his forehead nearly touched the sugar dispenser. "I will return to the office immediately to draft the contract! We can sign it tonight! I'll have the legal team stay late!"
The Editor-in-Chief was frantic. He was terrified that if he let Leo walk out of this café without a signature, the boy might realize he could walk into Kadokawa tomorrow and start a bidding war. He didn't care about the profit margin anymore; he needed the prestige. He needed to save the brand.
"Easy, Chief," Leo said, raising a hand to calm the man down. "It's getting late. There's no need to rush the paperwork. I've given you my word, and I don't break it. Shinazugawa is my choice. Bring the contract tomorrow."
Kawada blinked, slowly straightening up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Ah... yes. Of course. My apologies for my impatience."
He cleared his throat, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. "In that case... perhaps I could treat you and Kasumi-sensei to dinner? There's a wonderful kaiseki restaurant nearby. Consider it a celebration."
"I appreciate the offer," Leo said, standing up and sliding his laptop into his bag. "But I'll have to pass."
Leo had a peculiar philosophy when it came to food. He was a bit like Inogashira Goro from The Solitary Gourmet. Dining was a sacred, personal ritual. He could talk business with strangers all day, but eating with them? That required a level of intimacy he didn't share with a desperate middle-aged man he'd just met.
"I have a surplus of inspiration right now," Leo lied smoothly. "I want to get back to my apartment and channel it while it's hot. The concept for Volume 2 is already complete; I just need to flesh it out."
Machida nearly choked on her drink. "Volume 2? Already?"
"Why not?" Leo laughed, shouldering his bag. "Writing isn't a chore for me; it's entertainment. My efficiency is... a little higher than the industry standard."
Machida stared at him. "A little higher" was the understatement of the century.
Most light novel authors were marathon runners, pacing themselves to produce one volume every three or four months. The fast ones—the "machines"—maybe did one every six weeks. But Leo? He had written Volume 1 in less than a week. And now he was talking about starting Volume 2 immediately?
Internal Monologue: They have no idea. Back in the Chinese web novel scene, if you aren't updating 10,000 words a day, you starve. These guys think 5,000 words a week is a workload. I'm playing on easy mode.
Machida's eyes lit up with a new, dangerous gleam. She wasn't just seeing a manuscript anymore; she was seeing a marketing campaign.
A genius high school student. A speed demon who writes faster than he can be published. If we market this right... if we drop Volume 2 right on the heels of Volume 1... we can dominate the news cycle.
"Leo-sensei," Kawada said, looking at him with renewed awe. "You really are amazing. Such efficiency... it puts every other writer I know to shame."
"I just type fast," Leo said with a modest shrug.
After a round of handshakes and deep bows from Kawada, Leo and Utaha stepped out of the coffee shop and into the cool evening air.
The streetlights had flickered on, casting long, amber shadows across the pavement. The city hummed with the energy of the night shift—cars hissing over asphalt, distant train whistles, the chatter of students heading to cram school.
They walked toward the station side-by-side.
"I really have to thank you for this, Senior," Leo said, breaking the silence. "15% is generous. I honestly didn't expect them to bleed that much for a rookie."
He smiled. He wasn't greedy, but he was practical. He planned to convert as much cash as possible into gold before he eventually left this world. Every percentage point mattered.
Utaha walked with her hands clasped behind her back, her steps light and bouncy. The gloomy aura that usually clung to her regarding her career had evaporated. She looked at him, her wine-red eyes reflecting the neon signs of the shops they passed.
"It wasn't my achievement, Leo-kun," she said softy. "It was the work. Shinazugawa needed a savior, and you walked in with a miracle. Getting 15% wasn't a favor; it was the price of admission for your talent."
She stopped at the crosswalk, turning to face him.
"You really are a monster, aren't you?"
"I prefer 'highly efficient professional,'" Leo grinned.
"Same thing," she teased.
As the light changed and they crossed the street, Leo felt the pieces of his plan clicking into place. He had the money, the team, the publisher, and the mentor. The board was set. Now, it was time to start the game properly.