Chapter 66: The Storm(1)
Chapter 66: The Storm(1)
What is the reason Xenon Biography is revered as a true masterpiece of this era, transcending national borders?
While many reasons exist, the primary one is that Xenon Biography is a novel easily accessible to everyone—regardless of social class, gender, or age.
It isn't packed with difficult, obscure vocabulary, nor does it speak in riddles.
It captures a single story within its pages concisely yet clearly, stimulating the reader's imagination. Through that imagination, it unfolds an entire world within one's mind.
This single characteristic was enough to satisfy the conditions for Xenon Biography to become a global phenomenon. Combined with a gripping plot, its skyrocketing popularity was a natural conclusion.
Its status was so high that even the illiterate learned to read just to finish the book.
In fact, many readers who encountered unfamiliar words while reading Xenon Biography would consult dictionaries or deduce the meaning from the context, achieving self-enlightenment.
However, when popularity reaches such heights, side effects are bound to follow.
Setting aside the fact that almost no other books besides Xenon Biography were selling, there were countless cases of people getting hurt while acting out fantasies of becoming the story's protagonist.
In a way, this was a natural progression, but unfortunately, the world had never experienced anything like it before. To begin with, there had never been a "culture" that trended across all ages, genders, classes, and races simultaneously.
Until now, everyone had been too busy enjoying the culture for side effects to manifest, but once Volume 10 of Xenon Biography hit the world, the underlying problems finally erupted.
"Open the door, now! You're the publisher! You must know who Xenon is!"
"At least tell us what's going on! You said last time you were worried about his health!"
"Why the sudden hiatus?! And what do you mean he's suffering mentally? Come out and explain yourselves this instant!"
In front of the entrance to the publishing house that held the copyright for Xenon Biography, a massive crowd had gathered, shouting at the top of their lungs.
From ordinary-looking freemen to grizzled adventurers and people from various other walks of life.
It was rare to see such a diverse group of people, with seemingly nothing in common, gathered together to raise their voices. It was even rarer for a protest to occur without a single person instigating or leading them.
Ah, of course, it wasn't that they had nothing in common.
They were all so-called "fans" who were absolutely obsessed with Xenon Biography, and they had swarmed here after reading Volume 10.
"We don't know either! We just receive the manuscripts and print the books!"
"That's right! No matter how much you yell, we have nothing to tell you!"
The employees struggling to hold back the protesters were truly going through hell. From their perspective, it was quite unfair, as they themselves didn't know the exact reason why the author had declared a long-term hiatus.
They were simply preoccupied with blocking the tide of people that had surged like a tsunami two days after Volume 10 was released. Fortunately, the protesters hadn't turned violent yet, so they were managing to hold the line for now.
However, if the crowd was provoked even slightly more, the publishing house might actually be overrun. They needed to extinguish the fire somehow, but there wasn't even a hint of a solution, leaving them in a state of utter dismay.
Do something, for God's sake!
The employee blocking the protesters glared back at his own company building, screaming inwardly.
So, what was happening inside the publishing house?
"Is there really nothing you can do? You must have a connection with the author—with Xenon."
"Please, just deliver this letter at least. Since you say he is suffering mentally, I can take responsibility for him."
The Publisher was nursing a massive headache from dealing with the nobles who had flocked from all over the country. He looked at the nobles, who were practically begging him—a man with no real power—with hollow eyes.
He had expected this, but facing it in person made his head spin. It was a spectacle like no other.
He was merely a nouveau riche who had earned an astronomical fortune after signing the contract for Xenon Biography. He didn't possess strong political power like the nobles before him, nor did he have the strength to ignore proper procedures.
And yet, not just one, but a whole crowd of them had swarmed in and occupied his office. It was enough to drive him mad.
I don't know either, you bastards.
The Publisher laughed hollowly to himself as he watched the nobles protesting in front of him.
The nobles were no different from the protesters occupying the entrance downstairs. Their methods of expression differed, but their concern for the author of Xenon Biography was the same.
They weren't the type of wicked nobles desperate to track down the author for nefarious reasons; they were genuine fans who loved Xenon Biography for what it was.
As proof of this, most of the nobles currently in the office were of the rank of Count or below. From the rank of Marquis upward, they were usually too buried in official business to have the leisure to visit a publishing house.
Even if they had the time, they would likely hold their own meetings rather than visit such a place.
"Um... everyone? I'm sorry, but no matter how much you demand, I really don't know. I don't know the reason why the author went on hiatus..."
"That's why we're asking you! Find out why the author is having a hard time and why he's going on hiatus for nearly two years!"
The Publisher tried to sweatily calm the situation, but his efforts were thwarted when a noblewoman retorted in a shrill voice.
The Publisher flinched at her sharp tone and replied timidly.
"If... if you all keep acting like this, the author will surely feel uncomfortable."
"Do you think those words will work on us now? What we want is the author's detailed circumstances, not your pathetic assumptions. We won't move a single step from here until you give us a reason we can accept."
"Please, just send a letter. It doesn't matter if I don't know who the author is. I'm doing this out of pure concern. You said there were health issues recently as well."
It didn't work at all. Following the noblewoman, the pitiful plea of another noble made the Publisher's head throb.
Do they think letters just fly back and forth in a day or two?
He had already sent a letter long ago. Although he couldn't send it with the previous batch of fan letters because of meetings, it should have arrived at the mansion by now.
So, if he could just endure for about three days, a reply would come. The Publisher intended to hold out until then.
Of course, the three-day estimate was based entirely on the assumption that Xenon (the pen name) was Hawk. The Publisher had no way of predicting how many days it would actually take for a reply to return.
"This won't do. If it's come to this, I'll personally...!"
"How would that make you any different from the people who were harassing Sir Xenon? Did you not hear the voices of the protesters outside?"
"But we weren't the ones who did that! I can't understand why we have to suffer the consequences!"
"Are you planning to throw a mana stone into a fire that's already about to explode? It'll certainly burn brightly. If you want to see a situation like the Jayros Revolution happen on a global scale, then go right ahead."
They're fighting well, real well.
The Publisher wore a look of transcendence as he watched the nobles begin to bicker among themselves.
As they said, this phenomenon would look like an ominous sign to those higher up. It was even more aggressive than the signs seen during the Jayros Revolution.
What if someone started instigating the crowd or if a false rumor spread?
It was obvious that a second revolution would break out. He had to extinguish the fire somehow, but there was nothing he could do.
It wasn't like he was just watching a fire across the river. His company, which he had built with blood, sweat, and tears, was currently burning; how could he just watch?
O Luminous...
The Publisher prayed to his god inwardly.
*
The protests weren't just happening in front of the publishing house contracted for Xenon Biography. Since the series had global influence, protests erupted everywhere.
From protesters holding signs and raising their voices in plazas to unprecedented demonstrations in front of major government facilities.
They all demanded a proper explanation of the author's situation and protested, asking if such a tragedy had occurred because some nobles had been harassing him, as reported in the newspapers.
While there were no direct armed conflicts like in the Jayros Revolution, it was a volatile situation that felt like it could explode at any moment.
In this climate, the high-ranking officials of each country agonized over how to respond, but they soon came up with a clever ploy.
[The author of Xenon Biography, Xenon, is not in our country. To begin with, the publishing house is in the Minerva Empire.]
[We are truly sorry to the protesters raising their voices, but demanding answers from us will yield nothing. We are also shocked and regretful to hear of Xenon's long-term hiatus.]
[If Xenon was suffering mentally, there must have been pressure at the national level. There are only two countries that are obsessed with culture.]
They shifted the responsibility onto the Minerva Empire and the Kingdom of Ters.
Indeed, those two nations were famous for pouncing on anything related to culture, and they even had a history of nearly starting a cultural war.
Furthermore, the Minerva Empire was notorious for plundering the culture of the Kingdom of Ters. Because of this, it was a well-known global fact that the Kingdom of Ters had established strict new regulations.
The publisher was in the Minerva Empire, and the Minerva Empire was greedy enough to steal others' culture.
These two hypotheses aligned perfectly, and the arrows of blame began to pour toward the Minerva Empire. It was mere instigation, but the situation was so dire that even a single drop of oil turned into a raging inferno.
Moreover, the Kingdom of Ters had a history of unprecedented events like the Jayros Revolution. People believed that after experiencing such an event, they wouldn't be crazy enough to pressure the author of Xenon Biography.
"What if an event like the Jayros Revolution happens in our Empire too? Will it be okay?"
"It's chaos outside right now. Citizens have even started protesting in front of the Imperial Palace."
"What are we going to do..."
That anxiety began to spread even to the Halo Academy located in the capital. I looked around the classroom, where a subtle atmosphere lingered even before the lecture began.
It had only been three days since Volume 10 of Xenon Biography was published, but the aftershocks were truly terrifying. Newspapers were filled with articles about protests across the country, and there were even reports that the military had been mobilized because the police guards couldn't contain them.
Honestly, I was quite flustered. I had only posted the hiatus notice to focus on my studies, but the situation had spiraled out of control.
While it was true that I was struggling mentally, it had been distorted into the idea that I was being pressured by someone. The problem was that this wasn't entirely a lie either.
I had sent a letter to the publisher, but I wondered if it would be enough to extinguish the flames.
As I was tilting my head at the strangely unfolding situation, Mari, who was sitting next to me, spoke up with a smirk.
"So, how does it feel?"
"What does?"
"Feeling firsthand that you're influencing not just the Empire, but the entire world."
I scratched my head, unsure of how to answer Mari's question. They say experiencing something once is more effective than hearing about it a hundred times, and seeing the classroom in such a stir made it feel real.
If even the Academy students could sense the ominous energy, the situation outside must be a disaster. I took a long breath and glanced at Mari.
She didn't seem worried at all, wearing her characteristic beaming smile. Unlike others, Mari was from the Rekilis Family, which held power second only to the Emperor.
So, Mari's family must have been affected as well. It was only natural to be worried.
"Aren't you worried?"
"A little? But it'll calm down soon. I'm sure of it."
Her confident answer naturally prompted a question. As I blinked and tilted my head, Mari chuckled.
Then, she glanced toward the back and beckoned me. I slowly moved my face closer to her gesture, as if she wanted me to lend her my ear.
"Whoosh~"
"Whoa!"
I jumped, startled by the sound of air being blown into my ear. As I bounced like a live fish, Mari let out a mischievous laugh.
"Heehee. Did you like that?"
"Ah, seriously... don't play pranks like that."
"Sorry, sorry. And why don't you look to the side?"
"What now..."
I thought she was playing another prank, but I turned my head as she said. And as soon as I turned, I couldn't help but blink at the sight of the person who entered my vision.
With golden hair flowing like waves and blue eyes shining like jewels, a beauty with a pure and elegant impression stood beside me.
It was the Imperial Princess of the Minerva Empire, Lina.
I was puzzled as to why Lina was standing next to me, but she looked at me with a darkened expression. Her face, which was always serene, was now clouded with worry.
"...Isaac."
"Uh... yes."
After calling my name, she glanced at Mari. At that look, Mari shrugged as if telling her to do as she pleased.
Having received Mari's permission, Lina wore a look of determination and spoke to me in a low voice.
"...Can you spare me a moment?"
I was stunned by the request. That was when Mari, sitting next to me, spoke in a sarcastic tone.
"Is that the attitude of someone asking for a favor?"
"..."
"You should ask politely. Po-lite-ly."
Perhaps annoyed by Mari emphasizing each syllable, Lina glared at her with a slightly fierce expression.
Regardless, Mari snorted and acted completely at ease. Her face said, Go ahead and try me.
However, Lina seemed to realize that such a war of attrition would yield no benefit and clenched her fists tight. Then, she looked at me again and made her request.
"...Please."
Her voice was significantly drained of strength.