Chapter 11: Shockwaves [1]
The day after Issue #8 of NextGen Manga Monthly hit the stands, the Oak Creek General Store was besieged the moment Mr. Henderson unlocked the door.
Seven or eight students rushed in.
"Mr. Henderson! Is the new NextGen in?"
"Does Silver Spoon have the cover this month?"
"I need two copies! One for me, one for my friend who's sick!"
Henderson, who had just hauled the box of magazines from the back room, didn't even have time to stock the shelf.
The box was practically raided before it hit the floor. He stood behind the counter, staring at the empty display rack for two seconds, then turned around and went back to the storeroom for another box.
This time, he got smart. He scribbled a sign on a piece of cardboard:
SILVER SPOON COVER ISSUE. LIMIT 2 PER CUSTOMER.
Even with the limit, by noon, the fifty copies he had ordered were gone.
"Are you getting more this afternoon?" a student asked, practically climbing over the counter.
"Tomorrow," Henderson grunted, tallying the sales without looking up. "Print run was increased, but delivery takes time."
The student groaned and left. Henderson looked up at the empty shelf and shook his head. He'd been selling comics for twenty years. He'd never seen a stampede for a farming manga.
Meanwhile, in the city, the editorial department of NextGen Manga Monthly was in session.
The conference room was thick with cigarette smoke and tension. Editor-in-Chief Lee sat at the head of the table, holding a fresh printout of the preliminary sales data.
"Issue #8. First-day sales are up 30% compared to last month," Lee said. His voice was calm, but the room went dead silent. "In the reader surveys, Silver Spoon has taken the number one spot for individual chapter ranking."
A collective gasp went through the room.
"Number one?" a middle-aged editor asked, incredulous. "It beat Legend of the Sword God?"
"It beat it," Lee said, sliding the paper forward. "By 0.3 percent."
A low murmur of disbelief rippled through the staff. Legend of the Sword God was the magazine's flagship title. It had held the throne for three years. For a rookie agricultural slice-of-life manga to dethrone it—even by a fraction—was an earthquake.
"It's the feature effect plus the cover," Chen, the marketing lead, argued, adjusting his glasses.
"The four-page color spread really sold the atmosphere. And the cover choice—sunrise over the ranch, Hachiken's silhouette was brilliant. Very artistic."
"It's not just the packaging," Lee cut him off. "The work itself is bulletproof. Chapter 8's cheese competition, Chapter 9's potato harvest, Chapter 10's farmers market arc—the pacing is steady, the emotions are real, the art is detailed. Readers aren't stupid. They know quality when they see it."
He scanned the room. "The question now is, how do we ride this wave?"
"We need to accelerate the collected volume release," the head of Publishing said immediately. Originally scheduled for next month. I say we push it to two weeks from now. The initial print run of 30,000 isn't enough. We need at least 50,000."
"What about the anime adaptation?" Lee looked at the Rights Management team.
Bluebird Animation is very aggressive. They sent a formal letter of intent this morning," a young woman from Rights said, flipping through a folder. "They want to do a twelve-episode season to test the waters. Their condition is that the author participates in script supervision."
"Fine," Lee nodded. "But negotiate the licensing fee hard. The value of this IP goes beyond just one season."
The room went quiet. Everyone understood. If Silver Spoon held this momentum, it wasn't just a hit; it was the new pillar of the magazine.
"Also," Lee paused, his eyes narrowing. "What are the other magazines doing?"
Zhang, a junior editor in charge of market intelligence, cleared his throat. "Manga Weekly held an emergency planning meeting last week. The agenda was 'How to Counter the Silver Spoon Phenomenon'. Internal sources say they're planning a 'countryside living' series to launch next month."
"Copycats," someone sneered.
"Shonen World is more direct," Zhang continued. "They've contacted several agricultural colleges. They want to launch an 'Agricultural Manga Contest' to headhunt rookies with farming backgrounds."
"And Era of Blood?"
"They're... quiet," Zhang hesitated. "But I heard their Editor-in-Chief went north for a research trip personally. They might be planning a dark fantasy ranch story or something."
A few chuckles broke the tension.
"They're panicking," Lee sneered. "They see a new path has been cut, and now they all want to crowd onto it."
He tapped the table. "But we have the first-mover advantage. Silver Spoon has already established its territory. Readers are loyal to this brand, to this author. Let them clone it all they want. It'll just look like a cheap knockoff."
"The problem is," an older editor spoke up, "Alex Walker—or 'The Dairy King' as the forums call him—is a rookie. If another magazine offers him a blank check..."
"He won't leave," Lee interrupted. "Sue knows him best. That kid isn't in it for the money. At least, not entirely. He wants to draw what he wants to draw, at his own pace."
He looked at Sue Vance. "Right?"
Sue nodded. "He knows exactly what he wants. Plus, we signed him to a long-term exclusivity contract. The buyout clause is astronomical."
"Good." Lee stood up. "Meeting adjourned. Execute the plan. Sue, keep the quality tight. This is the critical phase. No screw-ups."
"Understood."
Alex was unaware of these corporate maneuverings. He only knew that the phone at the ranch wouldn't stop ringing. And it wasn't for him directly—it was for John and Sarah.
"Hey John, is your boy Al drawing that... that comic book?" It was Mr. Miller, their neighbor two miles down the road.
Despite Alex's attempts to keep a low profile, Henderson at the General Store had a big mouth. The secret was out.
"Yeah," John answered gruffly.
"Well, shoot! My grandson reads it every day. Says it's the best thing since sliced bread! Can you get Al to sign a copy for him?"
"He's busy."
"Well, whenever he has a minute..."
"We'll see."
John hung up and looked at Alex. "Miller's grandson wants an autograph."
(To be Continued)
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