My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 667

"—You say you're the hero who defeated the Demon King?"

The gem merchant, who called himself Baron, pressed his soft lips to my ear and whispered. His voice was sweet and alluring, like a melody played on a stringed instrument made of foam, sending a shiver down my spine.

I thought to myself, what an amazing man.

Despite his seemingly unrestrained appearance, he wore several dazzling and expensive ornaments. Beneath the feathered hat were a pair of calm, serene eyes.

Whenever I am gazed into those obsidian-like eyes, I have the illusion that all my light is being absorbed into them. Or rather, not just light, but I myself am contained within them.

"Wow, that's incredible. In my eyes, you're just an ordinary boy."

"What...what makes you say that?!"

Without me noticing, he lifted my chin. His long, slender fingers traced its shape.

Like a black serpent dwelling in the Garden of Eden, it crawls on the skin, attempting to extend its fangs towards the forbidden fruit.

"Let me see the great hero's adorable side, that important part that no one else can see—let me see it a little more clearly."

Baron's other hand entangled my fingers, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't break free. I was powerless. Before this man, my heroic reputation gradually faded on the sheets.

"—I'll set you free now."

Soft protrusions sprouted hard bumps, as if lured by the movement of his fingers. A lascivious sound of water echoed within his body. The gates to the Spring of Paradise would probably be pried open by that segmented snake.

I can never go back to Eden.

"What?"

Why can't we go back?

baffling.

To be honest, it's really inexplicable.

I got angry. So I beat him up and went home. Then I went to sleep. The end.

#Three days until Fate Night

#Zongwu High School Arts Club

#Me who will die in 99 days

#If I'm interested in someone who likes this post, I'll follow them.

#Want to make friends with people who like heroes

#Ebina

#miura

#This is my first time writing a novel!

#Better than I imagined

"What is this thing?"

After reading that article, Hiratsuka-sensei's first sentence increased from five words to seven.

I ignored her questioning gaze and pretended not to understand again.

"What does 'What is this thing?' mean? When asking questions, you should..."

Just then, a gust of wind blew by. Hiratsuka-sensei's fist grazed past my cheek, so fast that I could barely see its afterimage out of the corner of my eye.

"I'll ask one more time. What is this thing?"

That's outrageous. She used the same trick on me before, pretending to be stupid. How despicable!

"This...this is the novel you requested. This is a copy written by Yuihama..."

"Hey, Hikigaya..."

Her cries sounded like those of a demon crawling out from the depths of hell.

"You probably already know that lying to me won't do you any good."

"Yes, yes, that was too much of a burden for Yui to write alone, so, well, she asked her friends for help, and that's what she wrote..."

"What kind of nonsense is this...?"

"...What...what is it?"

Calling it a "hidden pot" is too much. A chaotic novel, where chaos begets chaos, was born here.

Even if I wanted to complain, the whole thing is full of things to complain about, so I don't know where to start. I'm in a state of invincibility. What on earth is this?

"Well, to be honest, this type of novel might actually be worthwhile, right? You could read it as a comedy."

I absolutely cannot allow the submitted manuscript to be rejected. As an editor, I must act like a machine, pretending not to see the flaws in the finished product and pointing them out. That's the editor's job.

"Speaking of which, what on earth was that first half of the article? Did the author suffer from a disease where using too many common words would kill them?... But let's not get into that. The bigger question is, who is this suddenly appearing gem merchant, Baron?"

Yes, you're right. Yuihama—no, Ebina (probably)'s writing style, how should I put it, exudes a strong BL (Boys' Love) vibe, so I should start by criticizing that.

"Oh. So, as you can see, he's a handsome male character, right? There's no harm in having a lot of handsome guys. Considering the added benefits when it's game-based, going down this route is perfectly normal."

"They've already considered expanding across media?"

Professor Hiratsuka shuddered at the sight of my ambitious market strategy.

"...Never mind. I still have half of my complaints to make. Anyway—"

Hiratsuka deliberately avoided actually reading it aloud, instead pointing to the words on the paper.

She was referring to sexually suggestive phrases such as "soft protrusions sprouting hard bumps" and "the door to the spring of paradise will probably be pried open by that segmented snake."

"Do you think I, as a teacher, can correct this kind of sentence?"

"Huh? What is that? What are you saying? Oh dear—I don't quite understand. Hmm? Hiratsuka-sensei, what do you mean by these words?"

Hachiman Hikigaya then put on a beautiful act of feigned ignorance. Commonly known as "This is the only thing I can't quite defend." Hachiman is a good boy, completely unaware of lewd matters. I mean, that overly poetic style of description—I genuinely couldn't understand what she was writing.

"It gets the most outrageous from here on out..."

She turned to the next page and pointed to another paragraph.

I can never go back to Eden again—after the BL (Boys' Love) atmosphere reached its peak, a strange writing style followed.

Each sentence is short. They also begin with a # symbol...

"Treat this like Instagram!"

The clear and resonant commentary made me forget my role as the editor, and I desperately wanted to nod in agreement.

This is already at the level where people might mistake it for a newly debuted genius writer developing an overly novel writing style. Just come up with a reason like "I'm trying to use a novel to present modern social networking sites," and you might just win a Mishima Prize (Note 4).

The articles written by Yumiko Miura, the curly-haired lady, are truly astonishing (this is a euphemism for "truly stupid").

In short, this level of chaos was beyond the capabilities of even the best editors.

Hiratsuka-sensei keeps turning the pages, unfolding a hundred-day adventure story that seems impossible to contain, in the form of an outline.

My thoughts after watching it can be condensed into a short sentence.

"...What should we do?"

What should I do? There's nothing I can do. I'm doomed. Give up. The most important thing for an editor is learning to give up. Anyway, even if I publish a terrible book, it'll only ruin the author's reputation. Sigh...being a writer is tough...I've reached that level now.

"It's hard to find someone who can write a normal article while keeping up with this nonsensical style..."

"Ahem!"

"Sigh, it's just one last paragraph... Is there really no one qualified to write the finale...?"

"Cough, cough! Cough cough!"

For some reason, while I was agonizing over this, the suspicious person sitting directly in front of me started coughing frantically to get attention.

"...Hey, teacher, what are you doing?"

She's made it so obvious, I can't just ignore it. She's trying to intimidate me into showing concern for her.

"No, well... seeing them creating freely reminded me of my past passion..."

"oh."

Hiratsuka-sensei twisted her body, which was unusual for her.

"I could say I'm a seasoned Chinese literature teacher. Don't let my appearance fool you, I used to be known as the 'Silent One' in the world of fantasy novels..."

"Uh, it's okay if we don't talk about these things."

The current discussion is about how "the plot keeps going on like this and it's really getting frustrating."

"yes……"

*Sobbing* Hiratsuka-sensei lowered her head in dejection, and I saw a girlish handwriting mimicking a word on her shoulder. This former artsy girl can be quite adorable sometimes.

"But, if that's the case—"

When I looked up, Hiratsuka-sensei had already returned to being a Japanese literature teacher, or rather, an advisor to the service club.

"--Hachiman, you'll have to take charge yourself."

"I think so..."

To be honest, I had expected this outcome.

I was typing away on the keyboard, making a loud clattering sound.

I don't know how long I've been sitting in front of the computer in my room.

Having agreed to Hiratsuka-sensei's unreasonable request, my previously dejected mood has now been left behind.

New things are born through my hands.

Take the baton from others—others whose names you don't even know, whose faces you don't even know—and lead the story to its conclusion.

That feeling was unexpectedly pleasant for me.

The fingers moved with astonishing speed and dexterity. The text leaped onto the screen. Something was gradually taking shape.

—The joy of writing.

An indescribable emotion lingers in my heart; if I had to name it, this would be it.

Thus, our adventure, which was both long and short for a hundred days, finally came to an end.

I even feel regret now.

I reluctantly turned my gaze back to the article I had written—

Finish

2. Zeebra is the host of the Japanese rap battle show "Freestyle Dungeon". The show invites guests to act as "monsters" for the challengers to fight, and they wait in the monster room.

In the anime, Hamtaro's owner, Rukia, always ends each episode with "Today was so much fun. Tomorrow will be even more fun, right, Hamtaro!"

Note 4 refers to the Mishima Yukio Prize, a Japanese literary award.

In the short story collection 4, allstars, Hayama Hayato was unexpectedly confused for a long time.

Author: Kawagishi Ouyu / Illustration: Nana

Monday. The classroom after school.

Yesterday, the soccer club suspended practice for the day due to a practice match.

Amidst the noise, Hayato Hayama sat alone in his seat, reading a book titled "An Introduction to Modern Philosophy: From Existentialism, Structuralism to Postmodernism." He had just borrowed it from the library during his lunch break.

Hayato Hayama watched for a while, but couldn't muster any enthusiasm, so he turned his gaze to the window.

Autumn-tinged cirrus clouds drifted in the sky.

Hayato looked at the white clouds and sighed softly.

"Hayato, what's wrong? Why are you so sentimental?"

The person who spoke to him was Tobu Sho.

He was a friend of his in class, and like Hayato, a member of the soccer club.

"I was just reading a book."

"Hmm—? What are you reading…philosophy? Wow—you're reading such profound books."

"It's alright, it's just an introductory book. The content is simply a summary of the thoughts of each philosopher: Heidegger, Wittgenstein, Deleuze, Guattari."