"Natsume's manga volume and the anime adaptation they've already finalized everything?"
Haruki blinked. "That was fast."
Haruka nodded. "That's typical for Echo Shroud. If a series performs well in Shroud Line, a volume is practically guaranteed. And if it's trending? An anime follows."
Given Natsume's Book of Friends had stayed in the top rankings for weeks, both the volume and anime were expected. The only delay had been the lack of chapters.
"Copyright's shared between the publisher and creator," Haruka explained. "Once there's interest, reps handle the negotiations. If the artist agrees, contracts move fast."
She handed him a folder. "They originally wanted you in the meetings, but you were busy, so I handled the first round. Everything's in here."
Haruki skimmed through it. The publishing partner was a major distributor Echo Shroud had used before. The royalty rate stood out—10%.
"Wait, isn't 8% standard?"
"It used to be. But with the buzz around your work, they bumped it."
A 2% difference didn't sound huge, but for a hit series, it meant real money.
"Take Airi Tanaka. Her manga sold over 30 million copies. At 500 yen a volume, that 2% means tens of millions in royalties."
Natsume had already cracked the top three and was still holding strong. If the volume sold well, Haruki could see it hitting the million mark.
"Echo Shroud could've stuck to the baseline offer, but they voluntarily increased his cut. That kind of gesture didn't go unnoticed it meant a lot."
"As for the anime," Haruka continued, "they've chosen Kazanami Animation."
Haruki looked up. "Really? That's great."
Kazanami had worked with Haruka on Dream World. Her connection likely helped.
"You'll get the standard creator's fee. A few hundred thousand yen, more or less."
"Right," Haruki said. "The money's not the point it's the exposure."
Anime rarely brought in direct income for manga creators, but the impact on visibility was massive. Initial D and Natsume were still climbing without adaptations an anime boost would only help.
"Right now, your two series are the only ones in the top five without an anime," Haruka said.
An adaptation would push Natsume even further.
Haruki read the contract for another twenty minutes before setting it down. "Everything looks good."
"No special requests?"
"Actually… if possible, I'd like Kazuya to direct the anime."
Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Kazuya?"
"Yeah. He's good and I trust him."
"Then he's basically working full-time for you," she muttered with a smirk. "I'll pass the request along. No promises."
"Fair enough."
"If all goes well, Echo Shroud will schedule the contract meeting with the animation team soon."
"Sounds good."
In the following days, Haruki returned to his usual routine: manga during the day, planning in the evening, and nighttime gaming.
What started as a casual practice schedule between him and Ryuko gradually turned into a regular trio hangout with Airi included.
At first, Airi only dropped in to chat. But soon enough, the three were gaming together, strategizing, and acting like a real team.
Ryuko's skills stood out. Within weeks, all three of them ranked up from Black Tier IV to Black Tier III. That breakthrough after so many failed attempts felt surreal.
Haruki couldn't explain it. He'd known Airi for months and Ryuko from work, but the friendship only solidified once they started playing together.
Now, they messaged each other on Line like close friends.
It still felt a little strange to Haruki but in a good way.
Time flew by.
By October, Haruki had entered his second year at university.
Initial D had reached Chapter 12.
And it still wasn't slowing down.
---
Contrary to some industry predictions, Initial D wasn't losing steam after the Keisuke Takahashi arc.
If anything, it was gaining momentum.
The next challenger was Takeshi Nakazato, leader of the Myogi NightKids. After Takumi's victory over the Akagi RedSuns, the mysterious AE86 driver was quickly becoming a legend across Gunma.
Akina's downhill icon was no longer just a rumor.
Known for his aggressive driving and his GT-R32, Nakazato issued a formal challenge. Confident in his skills, he wanted to prove himself and take Takumi down.
Ironically, Takumi hadn't planned to accept. Despite the hype, he still didn't see himself as a real racer. But thanks to Itsuki's big mouth, rumors spread, and the pressure mounted.
The manga slowed its pacing again, but fans didn't mind. After the explosive Keisuke race, they were fully invested.
The story offered a brief flashback to Nakazato's past his switch from an S13 to the R32 after a humiliating loss. It hit a nerve. It wasn't just about horsepower; it was about pride, growth, and knowing your limits.
His goal? Beat Takumi, take down Ryosuke Takahashi, and dominate Gunma.
It was classic early-arc bravado. Readers understood the rhythm Nakazato would challenge, lose, and mark another step in Takumi's rise.
But how Takumi would be pulled in that was the hook.
Meanwhile, Initial D kept climbing the rankings. The gap between it and Dream World shrank each week.
Then came a new announcement: Natsume's Book of Friends was officially getting a volume release and anime adaptation.
For longtime fans, it felt overdue.
Though Initial D had become Haruki's flagship title, Natsume still had a strong following, especially among female readers. The news spread quickly through forums and fan chats.
For new readers, the volume release was a perfect entry point. And the anime? A long-awaited reward.
There was one snag. Haruki had asked for Kazuya Mori producer of Anohana to lead the adaptation. But Kazuya was already locked into another project.
Instead, Kazanami Animation assigned Seiji Watanabe, a younger producer recommended by Kazuya himself. While less experienced, Seiji's style suited Natsume's tone quiet, emotional, and character-focused. No flashy set pieces, just heart.
Haruki agreed to the switch.
Meanwhile, his two indie anime projects 5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star had moved into production. After two months of prep, they were finally rolling.
Without major funding, there was no official promo campaign. But Haruki did what he could on social media. Airi noticed and helped amplify the posts. Even her casual reposts brought in unexpected traction.
Haruki's name carried weight now. Even low-key announcements under his name stirred buzz.
Still, people were confused by the titles.
"Five centimeters per second?"
"Voices of what?"
"Are these going to be another cry-fest like Anohana?"
Some hoped not. Others, still emotionally recovering, braced themselves.
"This guy's insane. Two manga, two anime, all at once? Is he even human?"
"I vote we call him the 'High-Yield Machine.'"
"If 5 cm/s is as depressing as Anohana, I'm out."
"Nah, have you read Initial D? It's all hype now."
"Are you sure? That Takumi–Mogi stuff is totally setting up a healing arc."
"Wait—'Grassland Takumi'? What?"
"You missed the latest chapters, huh? Let's just say… things got messy with Mogi."
"Ah crap. I'm not caught up no spoilers, please!"
Haruki silently closed his phone and exited the group chat.
He did this often lurking, watching reactions, rarely posting.
He never let feedback change the story's core. But for small things? He paid attention. If a character fell flat, he cut screen time. If a moment resonated, he leaned in.
Even Mogi's design was intentional. Making her appealing deepened the impact of her arc. Readers cared more because Takumi did.
Even car designs mattered. He sketched each vehicle carefully. His readers deserved that much.
With multiple projects moving forward, Haruki knew the months ahead would define his career.
One way or another, this year would shape everything that followed.
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 55+ advanced chapters)