The digital clock on Yuko Hanakaze's bedside table glowed a cheerful 6:00 AM. Sunlight, already bright and insistent, streamed through his window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air like tiny, excited sprites. He stretched, a deep, satisfying arch of his back, and for a moment, the strange, disjointed feeling of the past few weeks settled over him again.
Yuko, age sixteen, orphaned and living in a small, meticulously kept house courtesy of a surprisingly generous global welfare program, was no longer just this Yuko. He was also the Yuko from another Earth.
This parallel Earth, however, was… different. Beautifully, serenely different. World peace wasn't a utopian pipe dream but a lived reality, woven into the very fabric of society. War was a distant, historical whisper. Conflict was mostly contained to spirited debates over the best new idol group or the latest immersive virtual reality game. With no existential threats to contend with, humanity had turned its prodigious intellect and boundless energy towards one glorious, all-encompassing pursuit: entertainment.
Entertainment was the global currency, the social lubricant, the ultimate measure of success and influence. Artists, musicians, actors, game designers, and yes, mangaka, were the rockstars, the titans, the beloved monarchs of this peaceful realm. And Yuko, with a treasure trove of untold stories in his head, saw his chance.
He hopped out of bed, a spring in his step. The first thing he'd done after his memories had merged, after he'd processed the initial shock and existential weirdness, was to do a deep dive into this world's entertainment landscape. He'd confirmed his suspicions quickly: there was no "Demon Slayer" here. No "Naruto," no "One Piece," no "Attack on Titan." It was a blank canvas, a cultural goldmine just waiting to be excavated. And Yuko, for better or worse, was holding the shovel.
His house, though modest, was equipped with the essentials, and his welfare stipend was surprisingly generous, a testament to this world's commitment to individual well-being. He'd spent the last few days in a whirlwind of online shopping. Digital drawing tablets, advanced styluses that felt impossibly natural in his hand, sophisticated art software that corrected perspective and suggested ideal brushstrokes, and even a top-of-the-line ergonomic chair designed to support hours of focused work – he'd bought it all. This world's technology wasn't about replacing the human touch, but about enhancing it, refining it. No AI drawing, but plenty of AI assistance for grammar, panel flow, and even anatomical correctness if you needed a quick reference.
As he munched on a surprisingly delicious nutrient bar – even the food was optimized for efficiency and taste in this world – his eyes landed on the advertisement still prominent on his holoscreen.
MANGAHOME: NEW TALENT SHOWCASE!
The banner practically glittered with promise. Mangahome, one of the "Big Three" manga publishing powerhouses, was hosting a contest specifically for newbies. The grand prize? Ten million Global Currency, or GC, and a fast track to publication.
Perfect. Utterly, deliciously perfect.
He'd decided to start with "Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba," Volume 1. It was iconic, emotionally resonant, and visually stunning. Plus, it had a killer hook right from the first chapter. He'd painstakingly recreated the character designs, panel layouts, and dialogue from his memories, using the advanced software to refine the lines, ensuring every detail was crisp, every expression poignant. The process was exhilarating, a thrilling blend of creative flow and memory recall.
Weeks blurred into a frantic, joyful haze of drawing, inking, and paneling. The technology here truly was a godsend. He could render complex backgrounds with surprising speed, and the grammar and error checks meant he didn't have to waste time poring over text for typos. He worked with a singular, laser-focused intensity, fueled by ambition and an almost dizzying sense of destiny.
Before he knew it, Volume 1 was complete. Then, driven by an unyielding momentum, Volume 2. And finally, Volume 3. He'd done it. Three full volumes, meticulously crafted, ready to unleash upon an unsuspecting, peace-loving world.
Today was the day. He'd selected Volume 1, the raw, emotional beginning, to submit to the Mangahome contest. He triple-checked the submission requirements, made sure the file format was correct, and with a deep breath that mingled anticipation with a sliver of nervous excitement, he clicked 'Submit'.
A notification popped up: "Submission Received! Good luck, Hanakaze Yuko!"
Yuko leaned back in his ergonomic chair, a slow, triumphant smile spreading across his face.
---
A week later, Yuko's phone screen buzzed with an incoming call from an unfamiliar number. His heart did a little flutter-kick against his ribs – a mixture of anticipation and nerves. He tapped to accept.
"Hello? Is this Hanakaze Yuko-san?" A clear, professional, yet wonderfully warm voice flowed through the speaker.
"Yes, this is Yuko Hanakaze," he replied, trying to sound much calmer than he felt.
"Fantastic! My name is Hanako Koyanagi, and I'm an editor at Mangahome. I'm calling about your submission, 'Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba.'"
Yuko's breath hitched. "Oh! Right, yes."
Hanako chuckled softly. "Yuko-san, your work... it's quite extraordinary. We at Mangahome have been incredibly impressed. We'd love to set up a meeting with you. Would you be available to meet at the 'Ink & Sip' Cafe tomorrow at 2 PM?"
"Ink & Sip? Yes, absolutely! I'll be there," Yuko confirmed, a wide grin spreading across his face. This was it!
---
The next afternoon, Yuko arrived at the trendy 'Ink & Sip' Cafe, a popular spot among creative types with its walls adorned with framed comic art and the rich aroma of roasted beans filling the air. He spotted her immediately. Sitting at a corner table, a tablet open beside a steaming cup of tea, was a woman with sleek, dark green hair styled in a low ponytail, intelligent eyes, and a relaxed, elegant posture. She looked exactly like the kind of effortlessly cool professional you'd expect to find at a top publishing house.
She looked up, a bright, welcoming smile gracing her lips. "Yuko-san? Hanako Koyanagi."
Yuko walked over, feeling a pleasant flutter. "Koyanagi-san, it's great to meet you."
"Please, call me Hanako," she said, gesturing to the seat opposite her. "And you, Yuko-san."
After they ordered – Yuko opting for a simple fruit smoothie, Hanako another tea – she leaned forward, her expression turning more serious, yet still radiating warmth. "Yuko-san, let me be direct. 'Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba' is phenomenal. Truly. The art style is unique and dynamic, the character depth is exceptional, and the storytelling... it's captivating. We've seen nothing quite like it."
Yuko felt a flush of pride, knowing the 'credit' truly belonged to someone else, but still basking in the glow of her sincere praise. "Thank you, Hanako-san. I poured a lot into it."
"It shows. We've fast-tracked your submission. Barring any unforeseen administrative issues – which are highly unlikely – 'Demon Slayer' has been selected as the final winner of our New Talent Showcase. Congratulations, Yuko-san."
Yuko's eyes widened. "The... the winner? So soon?" He'd expected to wait longer, to sweat it out.
Hanako nodded, a pleased smile playing on her lips. "When something is truly exceptional, we don't dilly-dally. We believe this manga has the potential to be a massive hit. Which brings me to this." She slid a sleek, digital tablet across the table. "This is our standard publication contract. It outlines the terms, including the ten million GC prize money, publication details, and our commitment to marketing and distribution."
Yuko picked up the tablet, his fingers trembling slightly as he scrolled through the clauses. He knew this world considered sixteen to be adult, so there would be no legal hang-ups regarding his age. Everything looked standard, professional, and incredibly promising. With a deep breath, he found the signature line and, with a confident flourish, affixed his digital signature.
"Welcome to the Mangahome family, Yuko-san," Hanako said, her smile widening. "We're absolutely thrilled to have you."
They spent the next half hour in small talk. Hanako asked about his inspirations, his creative process, and his thoughts on the current manga landscape. Yuko, carefully, gave vague but enthusiastic answers, weaving in bits of general artistic philosophy he remembered from his previous life. He noticed her listening intently, her intelligent eyes sparkling with genuine interest, and a soft, almost imperceptible blush dusting her cheeks when their gazes met. She even laughed at one of his quick, slightly self-deprecating jokes about late-night drawing sessions. There was a quiet admiration in her gaze, a subtle softening around her eyes that hinted at something more than just professional respect. It was charming, really.
As they parted ways, Hanako gave him a warm, encouraging smile. "Get some rest, Yuko-san. You've earned it. We'll be in touch soon with the next steps."
Walking home, Yuko felt like he was floating. Ten million GC! And the validation, the opportunity to truly bring these stories to life for a new audience. He still had so many volumes of 'Demon Slayer' to adapt, so many other series waiting in the wings. His mind, already buzzing with ideas, began to outline the panels for the next chapter. He couldn't wait to get back to his drawing tablet. The world was at peace, and he was about to become its newest entertainment sensation.