Chapter 115: Ripple Effect(1)
Chapter 115: Ripple Effect(1)
The exhibition, which had been spectacular and heated in many ways, came to a successful close. The artworks on display were more than enough to draw immense interest from tourists, and the collaborative performance between the Lirus Orchestra and the Matrix Theater Troupe was so magnificent it was destined to go down in history.
Furthermore, the revelation that the director of the Matrix Theater Troupe—who had been shrouded in mystery—was a Demon captured the world's attention. However, just as the director had said, he was merely an artist, and there was almost no discriminatory sentiment toward him for being a Demon.
Instead, because it explained how such brilliant direction was possible, the revelation only served to intensify interest in the Matrix Theater Troupe. Additionally, the Lirus Orchestra proved why they were world-class masters with their masterpiece, Life.
As the festival, which was bound to leave a lasting impression, concluded, people showered the Minerva Empire and the Maishal Territory with praise. Despite the short preparation period, they had demonstrated their remarkable technical prowess.
For the Minerva Empire in particular, it wasn't just a break-even event; it was a massive success. While they possessed sufficient technology, they had lagged behind the Kingdom of Ters culturally. Through this festival, however, they had presented a new cultural paradigm.
A culture not just for a specific class, but one that everyone could enjoy. This alone was a source of immense joy for the Minerva Empire.
Of course, the Kingdom of Ters wasn't about to just sit back and watch. They sternly declared that the next exhibition would absolutely be held in their capital. Though the Minerva Empire felt a twinge of regret, they handed over the baton.
It was around the time the heated atmosphere of the festival was beginning to cool.
"Whew..."
Inside the office of the publisher who held the contract for the Xenon Biography.
The Publisher sat at his desk, letting out a heavy, complicated sigh as he looked over the documents recording this month's sales. The papers showed records from before and after the exhibition.
When the hiatus of the Xenon Biography began, sales plummeted. When the manuscript was stolen, sales nearly hit rock bottom. Even at rock bottom, the company was large enough to stay afloat, but considering maintenance costs, they were in a serious deficit.
Furthermore, the investigation into the theft had brought tax evasion to light, resulting in a staggering fine. By some miracle, he avoided prison time solely because he held the contract for the Xenon Biography, but it remained a painful loss.
Looking at it this way, it was only natural for the publishing house to be reeling. However, as if by divine blessing, sales surged once again after the exhibition opened.
While most tourists who attended the exhibition were already fans of the Xenon Biography, there were those who weren't. Many people, moved by the performances, purchased the original books to see the source material.
Above all, thanks to Isaac releasing the Kair Side Story, sales were on a steady rise. It was a reality of constant ups and downs, leaving the Publisher feeling incredibly anxious.
Sales will continue to decline during the hiatus. I have to manage this somehow...
It was important to row when the tide was in, but it was even more important to prepare for the dark times. Not a sudden darkness, but the one he knew was coming.
The Publisher was staring that dark period right in the face. Setting aside the massive fine for tax evasion, he had to consider employee salaries and the maintenance costs of the printing press.
If even one of these slipped, the company might collapse into a hollow ruin beyond control. Fortunately, the state would provide support thanks to the exclusive contract with the Xenon Biography, but even that felt precarious.
Why did that fucking thief have to steal the manuscript... Ugh, I'm going crazy.
He had purchased a new safe after the theft, but it was a classic case of locking the stable door after the horse had bolted. It was meaningless.
Besides, the culprit had literally torn the safe out of the wall. The publishing house wouldn't be entrusted with a manuscript for a while, and Isaac would never send one unless it was a new volume.
Two years. I just need to hold out for two years. Until the new volume of the Xenon Biography comes out, even if I have to shut down the printing press...
The Publisher was busy formulating his future plans.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Clatter!
"Sir! It's breaking news!"
"Gah!"
Someone came rushing toward the door and flung it open so hard it nearly broke. Deep in thought, the Publisher jumped out of his skin.
The person who opened the door was Matthew, who had continued to work steadily even after the manuscript theft. The Publisher had worried he might quit after such an ordeal, but Matthew had shown up for work without a word.
Of course, that was then, and this was now. Calming his racing heart, the Publisher barked at Matthew for entering without knocking.
"What is the meaning of this rudeness! No matter how much I value you...!"
"Never mind that, just read this! It's a letter from Xenon!"
"A letter...? What?"
The Publisher stopped mid-shout, his eyes widening. His gaze shifted to the hand Matthew was waving.
In his hand was an ordinary letter. It was slightly crumpled from the frantic run, but the Publisher didn't care.
A letter from Xenon. That alone was enough for the Publisher to command Matthew in a strained voice.
"G-Give that to me this instant! Is it really Xenon?"
"Yes! Look at the signature! These mysterious characters are definitely Xenon's signature!"
The Publisher took the letter from Matthew with trembling hands. He quickly scanned the page to check the signature.
The signature was Isaac's name written in 'Hangul.' Not his name from his previous life, but the name he received after reincarnating into this world.
Sensing that it was indeed Xenon's unique signature, the Publisher hurriedly tore open the envelope. It seemed Matthew had come straight to the office the moment he saw the letter, as there were no signs of it being opened.
Finally, the contents were revealed. With eyes shaking uncontrollably, the Publisher began to read the letter slowly.
The fate of the publishing house could depend on what was written here.
[Hello, my dear readers. This is Xenon, the author of the Xenon Biography. I was recently surprised to hear that an exhibition for the Xenon Biography was being held in my birthplace. I had only told the artists they could use my work as they pleased; I didn't expect it to turn into a full-scale exhibition.]
At first, he expressed his surprise at the exhibition. However, the noteworthy part was 'birthplace.'
Until now, there had been nothing but speculation about Xenon's identity, but this letter revealed one thing.
He was from the Minerva Empire, and perhaps even born in the Maishal Territory.
The Publisher was excited to learn such a shocking fact, but he maintained his focus and continued reading.
[So, to visit my hometown after a long time and out of curiosity about the exhibition, I visited the Maishal Territory. Decades ago, it was a nameless village, so seeing it named the Maishal Territory felt new to me.]
The Publisher's prediction was correct. Xenon (Isaac) was from the Minerva Empire, specifically the Maishal Territory.
The Minerva Empire had explained that the exhibition was held in the Maishal Territory because the capital was overcrowded, but now that Xenon was revealed to be from there, people would inevitably be suspicious.
However, it could truly be a coincidence, so it was too early to jump to conclusions. The Publisher thought back to the Maishal Territory where the exhibition was held and asked Matthew.
"Matthew. Since when has the Maishal Territory been directly managed by a Lord?"
"Sir? That... it hasn't been that long. I believe it's been less than ten years..."
"Ten years..."
The letter mentioned leaving his hometown decades ago. Since people assumed Xenon was an elderly sage, this was highly persuasive.
Of course, no one knew this was all a ruse by Isaac. Since people already assumed he was a sage, Isaac was simply throwing them a bone.
He had already resolved to turn the Maishal Territory into a cultural district and had obtained his parents' consent in advance, which was why he could mention his origin. Since he was about to rescind his hiatus, he could use this to build even more hype. As long as he wasn't caught too early, there was no problem.
The Minerva Empire is certainly lucky.
Of course, the Publisher wasn't fooled. When the manuscript for Volume 1 was first brought in, Hawk had visited the publishing house personally for a private meeting with him. Since they were already business partners, he wasn't particularly surprised.
He only wondered why Isaac was dropping such hints.
The Publisher briefly questioned the motive behind revealing this fact but soon brushed it aside. Whether Xenon dropped hints or not didn't matter to him.
The most important words hadn't appeared yet.
[Upon arriving in the Maishal Territory, I was able to see many works. Paintings, statues, plays, and even music... Among the paintings, Carls Zvasa's Hectopascal Kick was my favorite. It was surprisingly identical to the scene I had in my head. While most artworks displayed profound themes, Mr. Carls's work was humorous yet impactful—a truly fun piece. Since the reason I write the Xenon Biography is to gift 'fun' to my readers, it was exactly to my liking.]
The letter continued with praise for the artists, saying his ears were purified by the Lirus Orchestra's performance and that the Matrix Theater Troupe's play was the best performance of his life.
He praised the artists while providing evidence that he had attended his own exhibition. The Publisher felt his excitement building, his eyes sharpening.
This alone was enough for his publishing house to act as Xenon's spokesperson. They had already become his representative by speaking on his behalf, but people had been wary since the manuscript theft.
This letter could resolve all of that. And the value of his company would skyrocket.
As the Publisher celebrated internally and painted a rosy future, the letter delivered a line that was like pouring water into a parched river.
[Through the exhibition, I realized once again how much you all love my work and how much it is cherished. Originally, I decided on a hiatus to rest, but this exhibition made me feel as though all the lingering emotions in my heart have been resolved. Thanks to that, I have made a decision. I will be rescinding the two-year hiatus.]
I will be rescinding the hiatus. This single sentence was like a rope of salvation lowered from the heavens.
Moreover, it was the announcement every reader in the world wanted most: the resumption of the Xenon Biography.
"Ah...!"
The Publisher looked at the letter with an expression of pure rapture. There was an additional explanation that the interval between new volumes might be long due to personal circumstances—perhaps once every three months at most for this year—but that meant nothing to the Publisher.
Resuming the serialization itself was more than enough. He stared at the letter, which had become crumpled in his trembling hands, and read the final section.
[Everyone. Culture is certainly beautiful, but if one does not understand it, it is merely something well-made. I hope the Xenon Biography remains a culture that everyone—regardless of age, gender, or class—can enjoy. Even those at the exhibition were busy enjoying the festival without needing to know everything. Due to personal circumstances, I cannot reveal where I live, what I do, or who I am, but I think I will visit whenever an exhibition is held. Wishing for God's blessing upon my beloved readers, I shall take my leave. Thank you.]
The long letter finally came to an end. But even after finishing it, the Publisher stood as still as a stone statue, showing no reaction.
Naturally, Matthew, standing beside him, grew worried. When the Publisher remained motionless, he called out cautiously.
"Um... Sir?"
"...Matthew."
"Yes?"
"Call the newspaper reporters immediately."
The expression on the Publisher's face as he looked up from the letter...
"And I shall give you a special bonus in this month's salary."
...was as benevolent as a saint's.
*
The Xenon Biography was canceling its hiatus and resuming serialization. This news alone was enough to send every fan of the series into a frenzy.
While many noted that Xenon's origin was the Minerva Empire—specifically the Maishal Territory—it garnered less attention than the resumption of the series. This part interested the world's leaders more than the fans.
The Minerva Empire, seeing this as a windfall, issued a statement expressing their delight at Xenon's origin. Conversely, the Kingdom of Ters, feeling the heat, countered by suggesting the Minerva Empire might be playing tricks.
However, when Xenon's (Isaac's) unique signature was revealed, the situation turned in favor of the Minerva Empire. They were already taking steps to develop their cultural power, such as planning to turn the Maishal Territory into a cultural district.
As the world was once again thrown into an uproar by the letter Isaac had sent, there was one person who reaped entirely unexpected benefits.
"Are you the painter Xenon mentioned? I came because I was curious to see your work."
"Ah, well, that is..."
"Do you have any other works? Xenon said they were fun, so please show us."
"Just a moment, please."
A red beret typical of an artist and an apron to protect against paint splatters. A uniquely groomed mustache and round blue eyes. A man who looked exactly like 'Mario,' if Isaac had seen him.
It was the unknown artist and the painter of the Hectopascal Kick, Carls Zvasa. Since Isaac's letter had not only mentioned Carls's work but also described it as fun, interest naturally gravitated toward him.
Carls had been a common, unknown artist until now, but he became an overnight celebrity due to a single mention by Xenon. Consequently, he was utterly bewildered by the people who suddenly flocked to his home.
He had thrown himself into the art world with the ambition of bringing fun and laughter to people, but he had never seen any profit until now. Furthermore, being a commoner rather than a noble or a wealthy man, he had spent his days starving while focusing on his paintings.
But his fandom for the Xenon Biography was genuine. While most people focused on depicting Sacran's end, he focused on the scenes that occasionally made him burst out laughing.
The result was the Hectopascal Kick, and though it might be called ridiculous, Carls was satisfied with it and had submitted it to the exhibition. Of course, being unknown, it hadn't drawn much attention.
"Um... everyone? I'm sorry, but could you come back later? I'm not prepared to receive guests..."
"Hmm. My apologies. Here is my family's token; if you are interested, please visit the Ghetto Viscount Family."
"Please visit our mansion as well. It's not far from here, so it will be easy to find."
"We also..."
Carls accepted the tokens one by one, confused by the flood of invitations. Such treatment was incredibly awkward for him, a poor and unknown artist.
After receiving a pile of visiting permits, Carls stood in a daze for a long time even after entering his house. He couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality.
However, once the scent of paint hit his nose, he was able to grasp the situation. He had merely painted a scene from the Xenon Biography, and he had become a celebrity in an instant.
His artworks, which weren't "great works" only a specific class could appreciate but were meant to gift fun and laughter to everyone, were finally beginning to see the light.
All because Xenon, of all people, liked them.
"..."
Carls looked at the canvas he had been painting until just a moment ago. He had been so happy to see his name in Xenon's letter that he was already painting another scene.
He had only painted it as a sort of fan art, but an entirely unexpected situation had occurred. Carls blinked and muttered softly.
"What in the world is happening...?"
Meanwhile, Isaac, unaware that his single letter had given birth to another master in the art world...
"Mari."
"Yeah?"
"How long are you going to stay at our mansion?"
"I want to stay here for the rest of my life."
...was enjoying a pseudo-married life with Mari.