Chapter 219: A New Star(1)
Chapter 219: A New Star(1)
Ever since The Life of Xenon was first released, the publishing house contracted with the Maishal family has seen its sales soar with every passing day.
While the series was primarily popular among humans and demons before Volume 12, it is now selling like wildfire across all races.
Giant merchant guilds traveling across the continent are scrambling to secure contracts with the publisher, and the Publisher has been milking them for all they're worth, pocketing a fair share of bribes along the way.
Normally, Isaac would have to visit the publishing house in person to sign contracts, but since there was a risk of his identity being exposed, he had delegated full authority from the very beginning. While the copyrights strictly belong to Isaac, the sales management itself lies with the Publisher.
Therefore, the Publisher could have lied about the numbers if he wanted to, but surprisingly, he didn't. Why?
Because the books sold so well that there was simply no need to embezzle money.
To be honest, he did skim a little off the top during the initial sales. However, as time went on, the sheer volume of profit flowing into the company became more than he could handle, so he stopped.
The accountant in charge of managing the publisher's revenue had submitted his resignation several times, claiming his head was about to explode. No matter how much work he finished in a day, a mountain of new tasks would be waiting for him the next morning—it was enough to drive anyone mad.
Since everything had to be processed manually and he even had to manage the Publisher's slush funds, the work was so grueling that the accountant felt like he was coughing up blood.
Of course, the Publisher would coax him back with gentle words and "financial therapy." He also made sure to hire more staff to assist the accountant, as he was a vital asset to the company.
In short, the profits generated by The Life of Xenon were staggering, comparable to the wealth of a high-ranking noble like a Count. Given that the Count class held the most capital in the Minerva Empire, one could roughly imagine the sheer scale of the fortune.
Money rolled in just by breathing. Even with heavy expenditures in various areas, the incoming funds were more than enough to cover them.
To put it bluntly, if he wanted to buy a carriage, he could just stand still for a few seconds, smile brightly, and say, "I bought it!" In fact, he had actually done that before.
While it was wonderful to live such happy days, the Publisher couldn't be entirely at peace.
It might seem strange that a man who loved money so much wasn't perfectly happy. The reason was none other than the hardships he had endured thus far.
Whenever a new volume of The Life of Xenon was released, it was guaranteed to be a massive hit. Conversely, this meant that every other book besides The Life of Xenon was performing poorly.
The books published before The Life of Xenon were so esoteric that even nobles, let alone commoners, found them difficult to read. Not only was the readability poor, but it was hard even to grasp what the story was trying to convey.
The only relatively easy reads were the essays written by explorers. Their memoirs were popular because they described experiences exactly as they were seen and felt. Isaac had appraised them as simple but entertaining.
However, even though there was a clear demand for those, they paled in comparison to The Life of Xenon. While the series would keep them afloat for now, things would change once it reached its conclusion.
If The Life of Xenon ended, their profits wouldn't just hit the floor—they might plummet straight into the basement. Since the current story seemed to be around the midpoint, it was unlikely to finish within a year at the earliest.
Therefore, they needed to start preparing for a transition period now. Although the Publisher had a keen nose for money, his ability to sense a crisis was equally sharp.
Between the frequent pressure from nobles, the hiatus caused by the theft of a manuscript, and the recent chaos caused by the Elves who had barged into the office, even a man with nerves of steel was bound to be bedridden for a few days.
For these reasons, the Publisher made a decision: he would turn his attention to books other than The Life of Xenon.
Even if the results were meager for now, another great author might be born someday. Since the percentage of people reading books had increased thanks to The Life of Xenon, a new talent was bound to emerge eventually.
"Sigh..."
Of course, it wasn't easy. The Publisher let out a long sigh, rubbing his weary face.
Looking down through the gaps between his fingers, a thick stack of manuscript paper caught his eye. The elegant handwriting suggested the author had put a great deal of effort into it.
This manuscript wasn't The Life of Xenon, but the work of an aspiring writer. One might think the publisher was putting all his eggs in the Xenon basket, but a publishing house was still a publishing house.
They received manuscripts and printed anything that seemed marketable. That was the fundamental job of a publisher.
"They should at least learn the basics first..."
The Publisher lamented as he looked at the manuscript on his desk. The author, seemingly lacking confidence, had sent it by mail, and the result was exactly as expected.
Readability had been thrown out the window, and the prose was excessively convoluted. No, rather than sentences, each one was so long it felt like an entire paragraph.
It was a common mistake made by novice writers—the error of writing long, rambling sentences as they followed their stream of consciousness.
During his time as a publisher, he had seen countless writers make this mistake. In such cases, even if the story was good, people wouldn't bother reading it.
Thus, this manuscript was inevitably rejected. He had read it to the end out of respect for the effort, but he couldn't help but shake his head.
"Why can't I find anything even remotely similar...?"
The Publisher pushed the manuscript aside and clutched his head. His stress had peaked over the past year, and he felt like his hair was falling out. Fortunately, "financial therapy" had solved most of his problems, so he hadn't actually gone bald yet.
After The Life of Xenon became a global sensation, a craze for becoming a writer had swept the world, but nothing had caught his eye. No matter how good the readability and prose of Xenon's work were, imitating it was a different story.
However, it wasn't as if there were no writers who improved their skills through "copying practice." Moreover, since The Life of Xenon used a style that anyone could write if they tried, even copying it was relatively easy.
But the skills gained through such practice naturally ended up resembling the original. In particular, since Volume 12, The Life of Xenon had been treated with such reverence that it was almost considered a prophetic text. Not to mention Isaac himself, who was being hailed as a Saint.
What if a book with a style similar to The Life of Xenon was published? Honestly, having a similar style wasn't a problem in itself, and as long as the story was different, it wouldn't be a major issue.
The biggest problem was that people didn't "dare" to try. Unlike Earth, where social civilization was highly developed, the social culture here was still in its infancy.
There was a King who ruled the nation, nobles who governed territories by the King's command, and commoners who lived within those territories. It was a rigid class society.
In a class society, there exists a pride called "honor" that must never be tarnished. In particular, if one were to tarnish the honor of someone of noble rank or higher, they would have no grounds for complaint even if they were summarily judged on the spot.
Therefore, if someone published a book with prose similar to The Life of Xenon, they couldn't help but feel anxious that it might harm Xenon's honor, even if the story was different.
Even if they published it while hiding their identity, they would have to be prepared to face a mountain of criticism.
To the Publisher, who was a commoner steeped in the new culture(?) of "capitalism," this was a mindset he simply couldn't understand.
'Should I write a letter...? No. I'm still uneasy...'
Still, it wasn't as if he didn't understand at all. Part of him wanted to send a letter to Xenon and ask for a favor.
He wanted to explain that it wasn't good for the publishing house to rely solely on The Life of Xenon and ask if Xenon could say a few words. He wanted to ask if Xenon could generously grant permission for the sake of the aspiring writers who had grown their dreams while reading his work.
He wanted to say this, but the Publisher knew Xenon's true identity. It would be stranger not to know, considering he had signed the contract directly.
If Xenon had been a commoner, it might have been different, but the problem was that Isaac was a noble. Even as a Baron, he was someone a commoner like the Publisher had to bow down to, so asking for something was out of the question.
In fact, when he had received the manuscript for Volume 2, he had been so greedy that he had subtly suggested splitting it into two volumes because the length was so great.
He had left out the part about it being profitable for the publisher and focused only on the length. But the response he got was a firm, resolute rejection.
That single rejection made the current Publisher hesitate. He wanted to muster his courage one more time, but he was torn between whether it was crossing a line or if it would be okay, leaving him sighing repeatedly.
"Whew..."
The Publisher let out a sigh and glanced at the manuscript he had pushed aside. He needed to write a letter to return it.
Just as the Publisher opened his desk drawer to take out stationery and a pen...
Knock, knock, knock—
"Boss? It's Matthew. May I come in?"
"Oh, come in."
It was Matthew, an employee who had recently been promoted to secretary. As soon as the Publisher realized it was Matthew, he immediately gave his permission.
Matthew, dressed more neatly than before, opened the door cautiously and stepped inside.
Originally, Matthew had served as a bridge between Xenon's messenger and the publishing house, but he was so efficient and tight-lipped that he was perfect for the role of secretary.
Coincidentally, Matthew had accepted the position immediately upon realizing that while the work would be busier, he would be free from those hellish "night shifts."
"Yes. What brings you here this time? Could it be...?"
The Publisher asked in a suggestive voice, filled with anticipation. Matthew never visited the Publisher's office unless there was very important news.
And important news, of course, meant something related to The Life of Xenon. Since everything else was just trivial chatter, he couldn't help but be hopeful.
Although Volume 16 had only recently been released, the Publisher had noticed that the writing pace had accelerated lately.
"It's... not exactly about The Life of Xenon. But you could say it's related to Xenon."
"Hmm? What do you mean by that? Is that mail in your hand not The Life of Xenon?"
The Publisher questioned, pointing at the parcel tucked under Matthew's arm. If it wasn't The Life of Xenon, then what was it?
Matthew looked a bit troubled by the question himself and handed over a letter first, rather than the parcel. The Publisher took the letter without much suspicion.
The sender was, as expected, Xenon. Yet, he couldn't quite understand why the parcel didn't contain the manuscript for The Life of Xenon.
Regardless, he had to check the letter. The Publisher opened it with a puzzled expression.
[Hello, Publisher Musk. This is Xenon. The manuscript I am sending this time is not The Life of Xenon, but a manuscript written by someone dear to me.]
His eyes widened at the very first sentence. The Publisher blinked a few times, unable to believe what he was reading.
Usually, when Xenon sent letters, he addressed the "readers" rather than the Publisher himself. The Publisher was merely a proxy to convey Xenon's intentions.
But this letter was clearly addressed to him. The Publisher stared at the letter with a dazed expression before turning his head to look at Matthew.
Specifically, at the parcel tucked under Matthew's arm. The Publisher stared at the parcel for a moment, then snapped his head back to the letter and continued reading.
[When you see the manuscript, you might feel that it is similar to The Life of Xenon. This is unavoidable, as she is a child who grew her dreams while reading my work. However, if you look at the beautiful prose and the warmth within it, you will feel that it is different. This story could have come into the world much sooner, but unfortunately, it was canceled due to personal circumstances. I can personally guarantee its entertainment value on my honor, so I hope you will give it a read.]
He guaranteed the entertainment value. These were the words of Xenon, the author of The Life of Xenon. He even staked his honor on it.
This alone was more than enough to make the Publisher's heart race, but a practical problem remained. That was the "copyright contract."
No matter how brilliant a manuscript was, it was useless if a contract couldn't be made. Even if he committed irregularities like tax evasion, he was meticulous about managing these aspects.
He frowned slightly in thought, then decided to finish the letter first. Contractual issues could be resolved later.
[This child's pen name is 'Mary.' As you know, she is Xenon's lover, but she isn't actually my lover, so please don't misunderstand. I just gave her that title because I wanted to protect her. Lastly, there is something I want to say.]
There was something he wanted to say. The Publisher ignored everything else—the pen name and all—and focused on the final paragraph.
[Meeting this child and reading her writing made me realize something. There are so many sprouts in this world. Yet, those sprouts are being trampled or withering away before they can even bloom. The world calls me a man of the future or a savior, but I am merely a writer. Culture is a beautiful thing that should be allowed to everyone without discrimination. There must be sprouts who lack the courage to try because their writing is similar to mine. So, Mr. Musk, please tell them on my behalf. Tell them that I have given my permission, so they should go ahead and try. Tell them they don't need to be afraid. Of course, I will strictly punish those who copy the story itself, but let's try to make the flowers bloom. I would be grateful if you could tell them that.]
[P.S. Regarding the contract, I would like it to be the same as The Life of Xenon. Someone from our side will visit you separately soon, so please wait until then.]
"Sigh..."
The Publisher let out the breath he had been holding after reading the entire content. It felt as if an itch he couldn't reach had been thoroughly scratched, and an indescribable feeling flooded his mind.
He had been worrying about this very issue, and the letter had arrived at the perfect time. To top it off, he had even been given a manuscript that was guaranteed to be interesting—the Publisher couldn't be happier.
"...Matthew."
"Yes, Boss."
"Give me that manuscript for now."
A new star was rising.
*
Meanwhile, Isaac was...
"...So, which wife is this one?"
"No. It's not like that this time. I'm serious!"
"H-Hello..."
He was in the middle of introducing Mary to his acquaintances and Cherry.