Parallel World Light Novelist

Chapter 264: Chapter 263: Ambition and Ash

Support me at patreon.com/CulturedOne and read 50 Advanced Chapters

_______________________

The news that Cyberpunk: Edgerunners had officially claimed the top spot in the television ratings for episode six allowed Haruto’s fanbase to finally breathe a sigh of triumph.

After having to endure the smugness of the anti-fans following the premiere of Terminal Descent the previous Saturday, the Haruto fans were more than happy to return the favor with interest.

At Haruto’s level of popularity, his status was indistinguishable from that of a top-tier A-list celebrity.

His following was massive and organized, but so was the mob of fans who followed his every move. This was something Haruto had long since realized he couldn’t control; all he could do was stand firmly with the fans who supported him.

”Episode six was a masterpiece, and the ratings reflected exactly that,”

”The hater I bet with two nights ago has gone completely silent.”

”He promised that if Edgerunners stayed at No.1, he’d record a video of himself drinking his wife’s bathwater. I’ve been DMing him all morning, but he blocked me! Hahaha!”

”I still don’t understand why people get so worked up over this. If it’s good, watch it. If it’s not, scroll past. The mental gymnastics of these anti-fans are truly beyond comprehension.”

”In the beginning, it was just people who were jealous of Haruto’s success at such a young age. Now it’s more complicated.”

”You’ve got the hardcore fans of Red Dragon and The Otherworld Reformer who feel threatened. They all just want to see him fail.”

”It’s going to be a fun week. With Edgerunners pulling over 4.8%, let’s see if those other three shows can even keep up.”

”I’m happy the ratings are high, but man, that episode hurt. My heart is still heavy from the ending. It was brutal.”

”I wonder where the plot goes from here. Do you think it’ll follow the same trajectory as Madoka Magica? Episode six for Madoka was right around this level, wasn’t it?”

”Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s Madoka Magica we’re talking about.”

”Personally, I think the first six episodes of Edgerunners are actually tighter and more engaging than the start of Madoka. But Madoka became divine in its second half. We’ll just have to see if Haruto can stick the landing again.”

While the internet was full of speculation, the staff at Haru-Yuki Animation were in a state of excitement. Unlike the public, they knew exactly what was coming.

Aside from the team working on the To the Moon sequel, Finding Paradise, the rest of the studio was effectively on ”watch duty,” keeping a close eye on the reception of their latest project.

Among the veterans in the studio, there was a growing sentiment that Edgerunners might actually be superior to Madoka Magica.

While Madoka was a masterpiece for all ages, Edgerunners was a story tailored specifically for an adult palate. The team found themselves resonating more deeply with the tragedy of Night City. However, they also knew that the market’s taste was the most fickle variable of all.

Inside his office, Haruto was managing the company’s affairs.

With only a month left until the ten-episode run of Edgerunners concluded, he was already laying the groundwork for the post-finale merchandise, Blu-ray box sets, and overseas licensing deals.

He was also agonizing over the conclusion of the Initial D manga. The original source material was a epic that had run for years, but the quality had suffered a significant decline in its later arcs. Haruto had no intention of dragging his version out for a decade just to squeeze every last yen out of the tankobon sales. He knew that even if the popularity remained high, a bloated ending would only tarnish the work’s legacy.

He wanted the ”Ghost of Mt. Akina” to go out while the legend was still bright. He needed to have a serious sit-down with Shizuru and the editors at Prime Manga to discuss a exit strategy.

Sword Art Online, on the other hand, was a different story. The source material for the later arcs remained strong; it was the original anime adaptation that had failed the series in the parallel world. Haruto planned to keep the novel running.

But his primary concern remained the animation studio. Haru-Yuki now employed over a hundred people, and the roster was growing. While he had enough cash in the bank to keep the lights on for a decade without releasing a single frame, that wasn’t how you ran a business. He wanted Haru-Yuki Animation to become the premier studio in Japan, the gold standard of the industry, not just a retirement home for himself.

”Sigh...” Haruto leaned back, letting out a long, weary breath.

Every other college student in his class was at home enjoying their summer break, while he had been buried in work since the semester ended.

Being the boss was starting to feel a lot like a trap.

”Why the long face? Your ratings are through the roof, shouldn’t you be celebrating?” Yukino had entered his office, noticing his exhausted expression. She was dressed in a black skirt and a crisp blouse, her hair tied back in a way that made her look both elegant and authoritative.

As the Vice-Chairwoman, her prestige had actually begun to eclipse Haruto’s. While Haruto was the soul and the creative engine of the company, he was notoriously soft-hearted, often opting for leniency when staff made mistakes. Yukino was the hammer. She ran the day-to-day operations with an iron hand, personally firing incompetent hires or those brought in through nepotism that Haruto had been too hesitant to cut.

”I’m just thinking about what comes next,” Haruto said with a smile. He reached out, caught her hand, and pulled her into his lap.

Yukino’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and her heart rate spiked as she felt his breath against her neck. She didn’t pull away, but she took a moment to steady her voice.

”You know,” she began, trying to regain her composure, ”the rumors online say you’re preparing to lead a rebellion.”

”They say you want to challenge the ’Big Three’, and force them to make room for Haru-Yuki. People are already calling us one of the ’Big Four’.”

”Who’s saying that? The ’Big Four’?” Haruto chuckled, reaching up to playfully boop her nose. ”Don’t listen to the internet. Those people are imagining a drama that doesn’t exist.”

”Is it really that far-fetched?” Yukino asked, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. ”Do you really not have any intention of expanding?”

”The ’Big Four’ of Japan?” Haruto’s smile turned a bit more dangerous.

”Why would I want to be ranked alongside them? They aren’t in our league.”

It sounded arrogant, but to Haruto, it was a simple statement of fact. If he used the masterpieces of an entire parallel world just to become ”equal” to a few existing studios, he would consider himself a failure.

Yukino stared at his face, momentarily dazed. His features hadn’t changed much since they first met four years ago, but the confidence and ambition burning in his eyes had grown a hundredfold.

”You can never stop earning money, but I already have enough to last me a lifetime,” Haruto said, looking at the roadmap on his desk. ”I’m not doing this for the money anymore. I’m doing it because I want the company we built together to stand at the absolute summit.”

Yukino remained silent for a moment.

The Big Three were titans with assets worth hundreds of billions of yen and decades of deep-rooted influence. Haru-Yuki Animation was an infant by comparison. However, the studio’s liquid assets already exceeded ten billion yen, and the value of its intellectual properties was immeasurable. As an emerging force, they had the potential to do the unthinkable.

”So, what’s the plan?” she asked softly.

”There is only one path,” Haruto replied.

”We continue to release masterpiece after masterpiece. We crush every doubt and every challenger with the quality of our work. If you keep winning, eventually the talent and the wealth of the entire industry will naturally flow toward you.”

He looked at her, his expression softening as his hand moved to her waist. ”But enough about work. It’s hard enough to find time to be together at home. Why are we spending our time in the office talking about business?”

Before Yukino could respond, he leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes widened, her pulse racing, but she didn’t push him away. A minute later, they both pulled back, catching their breath.

Haruto looked like he wanted to continue, but Yukino quickly stood up and smoothed her skirt.

”Control yourself. We’re in the office,” she said, her face glowing. ”We are in a relationship, not a scene from an office romance film.”

”I don’t know, the ’office romance’ genre has its merits,” Haruto teased.

She shot him a glare. ”I’m not interested.”

Haruto sighed. Well, a guy can dream.

”Dinner tonight, then?” he asked, hopeful.

In a normal relationship, couples spend their time talking about life, philosophy, and future dreams to build a bond.

But as the Chairman and Vice-Chairwoman of a booming studio, their days were consumed by logistical nightmares. Even though they saw each other every day, they rarely had time to actually date.

”We’ll see,” Yukino said, picking up her files and heading for the door.

She gave him one last look before leaving. The brief interruption had effectively killed Haruto’s work drive for the afternoon.

He stared at his notes, realizing he had zero interest in spreadsheets for the rest of the day.

Over the following week, Haru-Yuki Animation launched an all-out promotional blitz for Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.

They were preparing the public for the final four episodes, the heart of the series. Haruto spent his time sifting through his memories of the parallel world, trying to decide which masterpiece the studio should tackle next.

As the weekend arrived, the industry’s attention shifted back to the screen.

After the seventh episodes of Red Dragon, The Otherworld Reformer, and Terminal Descent had aired, the spotlight returned to David and Lucy.

The day for Cyberpunk: Edgerunners Episode 7 had finally arrived.