All Beautiful Girls Want to Stick with Me

Before Aimi could overhear anything, Kotomi quickly ended the topic of ”taking the wife’s surname” and returned to her room. Sitting down at her desk, she opened her computer and continued working on the third chapter of Chainsaw Man.

Whether drawing or writing, starting a new project always brought an exhilarating rush. Ideas seemed to flow effortlessly, and motivation surged, making it feel like you could write tens of thousands of words or draw dozens of pages in a single day as long as no one interrupted you.

Before Kotomi had started creating her own works, she thought such claims were exaggerated. But once she became a creator herself, she deeply understood the sentiment.

There’s nothing like the excitement of working on something new!

In no time, Kotomi had finished another page. At this rate, she figured she’d have the third chapter of Chainsaw Man completed by this Sunday.

She set down her drawing pen and reached for the energy drink she’d placed on her desk earlier, taking a small sip.

She was careful not to drink too much, fearing it might keep her up all night. If that happened, she’d have to call on Kazumi again.

Though, to be honest, sleeping while hugging Kazumi guaranteed a deep sleep. Once you’d experienced the sensation of true, restful sleep, it was easy to become addicted to it.

Maybe... I should summon Kazumi tonight and cuddle with her to sleep? Kotomi thought hopefully to herself.

Just as she was about to call out to the system spirit inside her, her phone, lying on the bed, suddenly chimed with a new message.

Kotomi walked over, picked up her phone, and unlocked it to find that the message was from Asuka Chizuru.

[Izumi-sensei, good afternoon. Today is already Wednesday. How’s the progress on the second chapter?]

”Ah, I almost forgot!”

Kotomi exclaimed after reading the message, realizing that it was already Wednesday, and Shueisha needed to start preparing to print the next issue of Weekly Shonen Jump.

Since Shueisha operated on a weekly schedule, manga artists needed to submit their manuscripts a few days in advance to allow time for editing and printing.

”I’m so jealous of those monthly artists who can often take breaks for ’research trips’...”

As Kotomi typed her reply, she couldn’t help but envy the monthly manga artists. She resolved that once she became well-known in the manga world, she’d aim to be a monthly artist too.

And so, just like that.

Having only just started her serialization in Weekly Shonen Jump, Kotomi was already thinking about how to justify taking breaks in the future.

This was what you’d call ”long-term planning.”

Even though she hadn’t sent the second chapter to her editor yet, she was already racking her brain about what excuse she’d use to take a break once she became a famous mangaka—something that would shock her readers and leave them angrily clenching their fists.

[Sorry about that. Chapter 2 is finished. I meant to send it last night, but I got caught up with homework and forgot. I’ll email it to you shortly.]

Kotomi, who rarely did homework at home, quickly made up an excuse about being busy with schoolwork and forgetting to send the manuscript.

She had her reasons for choosing this particular excuse—it subtly hinted to Asuka Chizuru that, despite her heavy school workload, she still managed to keep up with her weekly manga deadlines.

Surely, Asuka Chizuru would be moved by her dedication and passion, and would be inclined to give her better promotional spots in the future~

After sending the message, Kotomi returned to her desk, opened the folder containing her Chainsaw Man files, and double-checked Chapter 2 from start to finish.

Satisfied, she compressed the file into a zip folder and set the extraction password to ”33.”

She then opened her email and sent the manuscript to Asuka Chizuru, deliberately omitting the password.

After successfully sending the email, Kotomi sat back in her chair, playing Minesweeper while waiting for Asuka Chizuru to message her back asking for the password.

Why Minesweeper?

Because Kotomi wanted to test whether her ”Queen of All Females” physique had granted her any special abilities—like the ability to see through things.

Don’t get the wrong idea—Kotomi had no intention of using such powers for anything inappropriate. What harm could little Kotomi possibly cause?

She just wanted an extra skill—more power meant more options!

Kotomi stared intensely at the Minesweeper board, her eyes wide open, but the result was...

Alright, it seemed that the Queen of All Females physique hadn’t granted her any reality-warping eye abilities.

She had once fantasized that gaining a system and improving her physique might awaken her eyes to something like the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.

But it seemed that dream had been dashed...

With a sigh, Kotomi decided she’d have to include her unfulfilled wish in her next novel—maybe something like Kara no Kyoukai.

Kotomi’s list of potential novel ideas just grew by one.

Just as she exited Minesweeper, Asuka Chizuru, as expected, messaged her back... Actually, no—she called her directly.

Kotomi answered the call.

”Editor Asuka, what can I do for you?”

Kotomi feigned innocence, using a tone as sweet and innocent as a child.

”Izumi-sensei, I received the zip file, but I read through your email several times, and there’s no mention of a password. Not even a hint.” Asuka Chizuru’s voice on the other end of the line sounded a bit exasperated.

After receiving Kotomi’s email, Asuka Chizuru had eagerly downloaded the file, excited to dive into Chapter 2 of Chainsaw Man.

Though Chapter 1 had just been serialized this week, as the editor, Asuka had already read it weeks earlier. She’d been eagerly awaiting Chapter 2 for quite some time.

But now, after finally receiving the manuscript, she was met with a password prompt as soon as she tried to unzip the file.

Asuka had been dumbfounded, momentarily wondering if she had clicked the wrong file.

While it was common for manga artists to send their work as compressed files, Izumi Kotomi had gone so far as to set a password—something Asuka found rather audacious!

She wanted nothing more than to storm over to Kotomi’s house and give her a good smack on the rear.

This little rascal needed a good scolding!

”Ohhh, the password! Sorry, I usually set passwords out of habit whenever I create zip files. I guess I just did it automatically,” Kotomi responded, her voice sounding innocent and clueless.

Upon hearing Kotomi’s harmless tone, Asuka’s irritation faded, replaced by a smile. She followed up by asking:

”So, what’s the password?”

”33. Since my birthday is March 3rd, I always use 33 as my go-to password.”

High EQ: I like to use my birthday as a password.

Kotomi intentionally emphasized her birthday with a slightly teasing tone, hoping Asuka would take the hint.

As a seasoned professional—and a woman—Asuka quickly saw through Kotomi’s playful hint. Her lips curved into an amused smile.

”The password is 33? Got it. Thanks, Izumi-sensei. I’ll take a look at Chapter 2 and arrange for it to be printed after I’m done.”

Feigning obliviousness, Asuka pretended not to notice the hint, responding in a calm, businesslike manner.

After that, she hung up the phone.

Listening to the dial tone, Kotomi frowned slightly. Why hadn’t Asuka reacted at all when she mentioned her birthday? Was her hint not obvious enough?

Pouting, Kotomi silently protested, puffing out her cheeks in frustration—a face so irresistibly adorable it would make anyone want to shower her with affection.

What Kotomi didn’t realize was just how charming and beautiful she truly was.

All she could think about was whether her hint had been too subtle.

Fine, from now on, whenever I send a manuscript—whether for a novel or a manga—I’ll set the password to 33.

...

At Shueisha, in the editorial department.

After hanging up the phone, Asuka Chizuru entered the password and successfully unzipped the file. But instead of immediately reading the manuscript, she found herself thinking about what Kotomi had said earlier...

Asuka smirked slightly, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

She didn’t often find herself charmed, but thinking back to how Kotomi had subtly emphasized her March 3rd birthday—and how she herself had pretended not to notice the hint—Asuka could almost picture Kotomi’s reaction.

Even though she hadn’t seen Kotomi’s expression at that moment, her tone alone had been enough to move Asuka. She found herself feeling an unexpected warmth.

Rather than diving into the manuscript, Asuka opened the memo app on her phone and created a new note, typing: ”Izumi Kotomi’s birthday—March 3rd.”

She even bookmarked the note with a star to mark it as important.

But that wasn’t enough—Asuka grabbed a sticky note from her desk, tore off a yellow sheet, and wrote down Kotomi’s birthday again, sticking it to the bottom right corner of her computer monitor.

As usual, Kotomi stayed up drawing manga until 11 PM. Since her phone had run out of battery and was left charging on her nightstand, she couldn’t sneak glances at it to procrastinate, allowing her focus to naturally increase.

In this heightened state of concentration, Kotomi found her thoughts clear, and new ideas kept popping into her mind. More importantly, her drawing speed improved significantly.

On a normal day, even with the boost from her system’s creative level, the amount of progress she made was relatively limited. After all, drawing a single page of manga takes far more time and effort than most people imagine.

That’s why Kotomi often thought that once she became famous, she would transition from a weekly serialization to a monthly one.

Thankfully, she had the foresight to start practicing time management early. Before her first chapter officially debuted in the magazine, she had already started working on the second chapter’s manuscript.

Now that she had just sent the second chapter to Asuka Chizuru, Kotomi was already nearing completion of the third chapter.

If she hadn’t begun working on it ahead of time, she’d likely be glued to her computer screen, anxiously eyeing the calendar as she frantically rushed to complete the second chapter. And even then, she wouldn’t be confident in finishing it on time.

Looking at her current draft on the screen, Kotomi thought, Once I finish the effect lines and sound effects tomorrow and add the dialogue, this page will be complete!

Only two more pages remained for the third chapter. If she dedicated some time over the next two days, she could definitely finish it by Friday night.

With that thought in mind, Kotomi exhaled deeply. She never would have imagined that the version of herself, who once had no artistic talent, would now be on the verge of completing three full chapters of a manga. And even more astonishingly, she was now earning money through her art.

”I wonder when the payment for Chapter 2 will be deposited into my account,” Kotomi mused aloud, moving her mouse to save her current progress.

The most anticipated moment after submitting a manuscript was always the payment. Seeing that bank notification with the credited amount provided an instant surge of motivation to keep drawing. After all, the more she earned, the more funds she’d have when the time came to establish her own game company, ”Type-Moon Boundary”

However, thinking about her bank account reminded Kotomi that she only had one account at the moment.

For a high school girl, one bank account might be more than sufficient. But if Kotomi planned to start her own game company, she’d definitely need to open another account to handle business-related finances.

In fact, it might turn out that even two accounts wouldn’t be enough.

She used to wonder why so many businesspeople had multiple bank accounts, often with different banks.

She hadn’t understood it back then, but now she did.

”Well~ there’s still some time before I officially establish Type-Moon Boundary. In the meantime, my priority is to maximize earnings and build up my reputation. Opening another bank account isn’t complicated, so there’s no need to worry too much about it for now. What I really need is to make both myself and my work valuable in the industry,” Kotomi thought to herself.

In the creative field, there are two things that need to become valuable: earnings and reputation.

Earnings, of course, refer to how much a creator can make from their work. In the commercial world, this is the most direct measure of a creator’s skill and success.

As for reputation, it reflects how well-known and influential a creator is in their industry.

These two aspects break down into:

Popularity

Influence

Status

Kotomi deeply understood this, especially when game companies would seek out writers for game scripts and offer the same payment to two authors.

One author had a larger following and a more established reputation, while the other, although less famous, was actually more skilled.

The key difference between the two was their fame—one was well-known, while the other wasn’t.

In that scenario, if you were the one hiring, who would you choose?

Most likely, you’d choose the more famous author. After all, if you’re paying the same amount, why not go for the one with more recognition?

After the script is done, that author could even promote the game on social media, drawing attention from their fanbase and potentially converting them into players.

Why wouldn’t you take that option?

That’s why Kotomi was so focused on making both herself and her work more valuable.

Making herself ”valuable” meant improving her skills and reputation, gaining recognition, and earning a dedicated following of readers and fans.

The same book, written by a famous author versus an unknown one, will have very different sales outcomes.

This simple truth also applies in the gaming industry.

After saving her progress, Kotomi lay down on her bed and prepared to sleep.

As she settled under the blankets, she thought about tomorrow—or the day after at the latest—when the results of the monthly exams would be announced.

Thinking about the exam results, Kotomi couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious.

But it wasn’t for herself—she was worried about Yui. She was eager to see how well Yui had done on the exam. Would there be any improvement?

Is this how teachers feel? Kotomi wondered.

After every exam, teachers probably felt similarly anxious, hoping that their most diligent students would perform well.

And thinking back on this month’s exam questions, which had been particularly difficult for most students...

Kotomi’s thoughts began to shift as she worried about Yui’s results:

If Yui could score over 100 in one subject, that would be amazing.

If Yui could score over 90 in one subject, that would be great.

Well... if Yui can at least pass a few subjects, I’d be happy as her tutor.

With these evolving thoughts, Kotomi drifted off to sleep.

...

The next day.

As usual, Kotomi walked to school with Kato Megumi. After entering 1-F and sitting down, Kotomi immediately sensed that something was off in the classroom.

The heavy atmosphere, like the calm before a storm, clearly indicated one thing: it was time for the test results to be handed out.

During a student’s school years, the day when exam results are announced can go one of two ways:

A beautiful day, starting with receiving the report card.

A beautiful day, ending with receiving the report card.

Kotomi hoped that her friends would experience the former.

As the tension in the classroom grew, Hiratsuka Shizuka walked in, carrying a stack of freshly printed report cards.

Slam!

She dropped the pile onto the podium, immediately drawing the attention of many students.

Some students, already anxious about their performance, began quietly praying, hands clasped together.

”Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven...”

”My game console... my precious game console...”

”If I can just pass one subject, I’ll consider it a success.”

...

Hiratsuka scanned the room, sighing. The results from this month’s exams weren’t good for most students.

Of course, ”most” didn’t mean ”all.”

There were always a few students who stood out from the majority—students whose outstanding scores made them shine.

And then there were the dark horses who improved so much that even the teachers were taken aback.

But among them, there was one student whose performance was truly exceptional.

That one student belonged to class 1-F. She was Hiratsuka Shizuka’s student.

But, perhaps in the near future, she might no longer be... because she was becoming too exceptional for this class.