Parallel World Light Novelist

Chapter 238: Chapter 237: The Identity

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”They actually gave it to To the Moon!”

”It looks like the weighting for box office numbers was not that high for this year’s Seika Award for Best Animated Film!”

”In the last ten years, the Best Animated Film award went to the highest-grossing film six times. Giving it to To the Moon this year is definitely a surprise.”

”The main issue is that Winter Rage just did not have the legs in the secondary market. Its reception was lukewarm, so the merchandise did not move. To the Moon was a different story. Those rabbit plushies sold like crazy; almost every couple bought one as a gift. Plus, its Blu-ray sales are phenomenal. It broke a million copies in Japan alone and hit nearly another million overseas. Compared to Winter Rage, which barely made a splash outside the country, To the Moon has a massive international footprint. No matter the region, its critical acclaim completely eclipses Winter Rage.”

”Looking at it that way, To the Moon really is the superior film.”

”I expected this result, but Takahashi-sensei is still terrifying. The Naoki Award, the Ryugin Award, and now the Seika Award for Best Animated Film. Three Gold trophies...”

”It is a pity he had no shot at Best TV Animation. If he had won that too, it would have been a total industry-wide cataclysm.”

”Don’t even joke about that. If one person swept all four major ACG awards in a single year, the rest of the industry might as well just quit. The other creators would be looking for the nearest bridge to jump off.”

While the fans celebrated online, the live broadcast continued. The host pivoted to the next category, introducing the ten nominees for the Seika Award for Best TV Animation. Among the other nine candidates were several shows that had already been crushed by Puella Magi Madoka Magica during their original broadcast, such as Dragon’s Treasure and Throbbing Heart. The remaining nominees were the top-rated hits from the other three seasons of the past year.

As the host went through the details of these works, the audience remained relatively calm. Everyone knew these were not the main event.

Finally, the host reached the introduction for Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

”During its run, it achieved a peak rating of over 6%, the highest for any anime in Japan in the last five years. It shattered the national record for disc sales. The legend of last year’s animation industry... Puella Magi Madoka Magica!”

The host’s booming voice was met with a thunderous roar from the Madoka fans. On the left side of the auditorium, the Warrior of Love supporters frantically waved their banners and lightsticks.

”Warrior of Love!”

”Warrior of Love!”

The rhythmic chanting filled the hall. Every person in the room could feel the intense devotion his fans held for him. In a country full of enthusiasts, experiencing that level of collective passion in person was enough to give anyone goosebumps.

Out of the ten nominees, only three would walk away with a trophy.

Once the introductions were finished, the host invited a special guest to the stage. It was a legendary figure from the animation world of thirty years ago. Even today, every anime fan in Japan knew his name. His appearance immediately set the room on fire.

”They actually got Mr. Kenjiro to announce the winners?”

”I cannot believe it. The man has been retired for twenty years. How did they convince him to come out?”

”I grew up watching his shows!”

Haruto, who had been feeling a bit bored, sat up straight. Mr. Kenjiro’s animations had been the staple of his own childhood.

On stage, the sixty-year-old veteran took the envelope from the host. He opened it, scanned the contents, and his smile suddenly froze. His eyes drifted repeatedly toward the right side of the auditorium, the section where the To the Moon production team was seated.

Since this was a live broadcast, the cameras captured every second of his confusion.

”What is Mr. Kenjiro doing? Why is he looking at the right side? That’s where the movie nominees are! The TV nominees are all on the left.”

”Dammit, the camera crew for this gala is incompetent. We haven’t had a single shot of the Madoka team yet. If they’d just show them, we’d finally see the Warrior of Love’s face.”

”Bro, give it up. I’m here at the venue, sitting right near the Haru-Yuki Animation seats. There are only four people there: the director, the producer, the animation supervisor, all people whose faces are already public, and a very beautiful woman who people say is the Vice-Chairwoman. The Chairman, the Warrior of Love himself, is not there.”

”Are you serious? He still hasn’t shown up?”

”Is he really going to stand us up? Is he just going to let his staff take the trophy while he stays in the shadows?”

”I do not think so. Why hide? It is not like we are going to eat him.”

”But a team can have five representatives, and they only have four. That’s a fact!”

”Please tell me he is not ghosting us.”

As the fan groups spiraled into speculation, Mr. Kenjiro began to read the winners.

”The Bronze Award for TV Animation of the Year goes to... Only One Youth by Stream Animation!”

Mr. Kenjiro continued through the formal commendations as the Only One Youth team walked onto the stage with beaming smiles.

That script was the reason his eyes kept darting toward the right side of the room. As an industry veteran, he was naturally curious about the mastermind behind Madoka Magica. But the name listed in his folder was something he never could have imagined.

Screenwriter for Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Haruto: Renowned novelist, mangaka, and screenwriter. Pseudonyms: Shiori Takahashi and Warrior of Love...

If he had not spent his life navigating the highs and lows of the entertainment world, he might have shouted in shock. Even so, he felt his heart racing.

’What on earth? Haruto is the Warrior of Love?’

Does that mean all four major awards, the Naoki Award, the Ryugin Award, the Seika Award for Best Animated Film, and the Seika Award for Best TV Animation, were swept by a single person in one month?

The idea was beyond his comprehension.

He knew with absolute certainty that it was also beyond the comprehension of the millions of people watching at home.

”The Silver Award for Best TV Animation goes to... Dragon’s Treasure.”

The Silver winner was revealed and honored. Once their speeches were finished, a heavy, expectant silence fell over the hall.

This was it. The big one. The unmasking of the Warrior of Love.

”And now, I announce the Gold Award for TV Animation of the Year... Puella Magi Madoka Magica by Haru-Yuki Animation!”

As Mr. Kenjiro’s voice reached a peak, the left side of the hall erupted. The Shiori Takahashi fans on the right remained silent, waiting for the final revelation.

”Please join me on stage: Director, Supervisor, Music Director, Vice-Chairwoman, and the Chairman of Haru-Yuki Animation... the Warrior of Love!” Mr. Kenjiro played the crowd perfectly, using the pseudonym to keep the suspense alive until the very last second.

Yukino and the others stood up and made their way to the stage. They lined up to represent the production team, but the audience was counting.

”Four?”

”Why are there only four of them?”

”Where is the Warrior of Love?”

”Did he really skip the ceremony?”

”This has to be a joke. Even if he did not come, they have to announce his real name, right? They cannot just use a pen name on a national award. That’s unprecedented!”

”Wait... look! Someone is getting up from the audience. He’s heading for the stage!”

”The camera is on him.”

”Is that... Shiori Takahashi? What is he doing? Why is he walking toward the stage? Is he trying to hijack the moment?”

Both the Shiori Takahashi fans and the Madoka fans watched in utter confusion as Haruto walked into the spotlight. Since the rest of the hall was dark, all eyes were glued to him as the overhead beam followed his every step. He climbed the stairs with a steady pace and walked directly into the empty space his team had left for him in the center of the line.

He stood there, facing thousands of live spectators and a dozen cameras.

The hall fell into a deathly silence.

Mr. Kenjiro stepped forward and handed the microphone to Haruto. ”I think it’s best if the Warrior of Love reveals his own identity,” the veteran said, patting the young man on the shoulder with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

This was the most dramatic thing he had ever seen. He thanked his lucky stars he had not lived in the same era as Haruto; being overshadowed by such a monster for an entire career would have been a nightmare. Haruto took the mic, paused for a habitual two seconds, and spoke in a steady, calm voice.

”I hope you all remember what I said two weeks ago at the Ryugin Awards, that I had a surprise for you this month.”

”Well, this is it.”

”Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Haruto. I am nineteen years old, a creator in the ACG industry spanning animation, manga, and novels. My previous pen names include...”

”Shiori Takahashi.”

”And the Warrior of Love.”

Dressed in his formal suit, bathed in the white light of the spot, Haruto looked every bit the sharp, handsome genius. His voice was cool and collected, but the words he spoke hit the room like a massive earthquake.

The entire venue went silent.

The production teams of his rivals, the fans who had spent the last week tearing each other apart on social media, everyone was frozen with their mouths wide open. A national awards ceremony of this scale does not make mistakes. They verify every identity.

So... the Warrior of Love... was Shiori Takahashi?

Are you kidding me? Is this some kind of prank?

”I realize this is a lot to process, but I assure you, this news is one hundred percent authentic,” the host said, his own voice sounding a bit shaky. The silence in the room was getting unnerving.

The next second, the silence was shattered by a deafening, chaotic roar.

”WHAT?!”

”This is impossible!”

”Sensei, was this really necessary?!”

”Holy crap, I spent an entire month arguing with Shiori Takahashi fans... I’m an idiot!”

”How can one person do all this?”

”I think I’m going to cry... my two favorite creators are the same person.”

The fans were no longer the organized, cheering groups they had been; they were a frantic, noisy mess of emotions.

”Everyone, please,” Haruto said into the microphone.

The room went quiet instantly. Whether they were Shiori Takahashi fans or Madoka fans, they were now all Haruto’s fans, and they listened.

”Aren’t you going to congratulate my work, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, for winning the Gold Award?” Haruto asked, looking out at the crowd. He then turned to Yukino and the rest of his team. ”I know this is a shock, but please, give a hand to my partners. We created this incredible animation together.”

One by one, fans began to clap. Then the applause grew, turning into a thunderous, rhythmic ovation. No matter how shocking the revelation was, Madoka was a masterpiece, and they would not let the ceremony end on a cold note.

Many people in the crowd started to laugh even as they cheered.

What were they even fighting for? Shiori Takahashi and the Warrior of Love were the same damn guy. It did not matter who was ”better”; they were both Haruto. The wall of sound hit Haruto and Yukino, drowning out everything else. For a moment, they were both swept up in the magic of the room.

But this room was just a microcosm of the nation. The ratings for Tokyo TV 1 had just spiked to 5.3%. Across Japan, millions of fans sitting in front of their TVs were staring at the screen in a daze. If anyone had told them ten minutes ago that Shiori Takahashi was the Warrior of Love, they would have laughed in their face.

Now, only one thought occupied their minds.

What the hell is wrong with this world? How can something this unbelievable actually happen?

You absolute bastard, Haruto. You fooled every single one of us.

As the shock began to wear off, the true gravity of the situation set in. If Haruto was the Warrior of Love, it meant that in the month of April, every single major ACG award in Japan had been claimed by a single nineteen-year-old.

It was beyond legendary. It was impossible.