I ended the call with Rinka, heart still racing.

By the time I made it back to the SUV, Flash and Crow had already unloaded the comics into two carts, which the event organizers had kindly provided. Two hundred volumes in total—two carts, one for each of us. Crow got into the Blue Destiny and drove it down to the underground parking lot.

With chuuni-ish names like Flash and Crow, it felt less like a comic convention and more like I’d wandered into a supernatural fiction novel.

Despite Magical Girl Paradise being Witch's Workshop's first title, it turned out to be surprisingly polished. Alongside the first volume of the manga, each copy came with an extra booklet full of worldbuilding material. The result? A chunky, hefty comic—two hundred of which made for one seriously weighty push. You could feel the inertia every time the cart moved.

We wheeled the loads back to the booth. As we approached, Wu Qinglan was chatting with another member. When he spotted us, he clapped his hands and waved.

“Great job, you two! Pretty heavy, huh?”

I shook my head. “Not too bad with the carts.”

“Then take them backstage, Marika’s handling the storage situation.”

“Wait, wait, wait! The storage room’s full already!” A flustered woman with glasses—clearly older—rushed over from behind the booth, furiously fanning herself. Her face twisted into visible dismay when she saw the mountain of manga.

“How did we end up with this many? I never even heard about this!”

Unbothered, Qinglan casually took her fan and started fanning himself.

“Don’t be so rigid, Marika. We can just stack the books up and use them as seats. Problem solved.”

“Sit on the books we’re selling?” Marika’s glasses nearly fell off her face.

“Think about it. ‘Mangas sat on by Marika-chan’? That could be a selling point! With some clever marketing, some creep might pay extra!”

“Say one more thing like that and I will report you for sexual harassment.”

So looks like Marika’s the storage manager.

Despite her no-nonsense attitude and minimal makeup, Marika was undeniably attractive. She looked to be around Wū Qinglán’s age—late twenties, maybe. Her hair was dyed a golden brown and curled into a voluminous middle part hairstyle to frame her broad forehead.

She wore a black tank top and fitted jeans—an outfit that accentuated her curves but gave her an oddly utilitarian vibe. With those black-rimmed glasses, she looked more like a female mechanic than an artist.

“This is Marika, the lead illustrator of Magical Girl Paradise,” Flash explained while dabbing sweat off his face. “One of our founding members—a junior in the same college club as the boss. Don’t let the rough edges fool you, she’s absolutely stunning in cosplay.”

He smacked his lips like he was savoring a memory. Kind of gross, honestly.

I glanced at the DSLR still slung over his shoulder. Yeah, no doubt he’s been shooting for most of their projects.

Despite Wū Qinglán’s bad idea, Marika didn’t throw out the chairs. But we still couldn’t leave 200 books blocking the aisle. So she went off to see if neighboring booths had any spare storage space.

“I’ll go check if anyone nearby can lend us some room!”

Wū Qinglán snorted and shrugged. “Not a chance. Even if someone had the space, why would they give it to us?”

“You’ve gotta believe in the goodwill and love of otaku culture!”

Without waiting for a reply, Marika marched off to scout the surrounding booths.

Honestly, I agreed with Qinglan. This was prime convention real estate, and most booths were already drowning in merch. Selling anything meant having it stacked high, with the vendors squished into tiny stools surrounded by their goods.

Meanwhile we were getting the audio system setup… and getting ourselves deafened by some random speaker noises.

And then in about 10 or so minutes…

“We got it! We got the space!”

Marika came striding back in triumph, smirking proudly at Qinglan,

“You two—Flash, Young Man—bring the carts and follow me.”

“You actually found someone?”
Qinglan’s jaw dropped.
“Wait—did you seduce someone?!”

“Seriously? Don’t be disgusting. Their rep’s a woman, thank you very much.”

Marika had arranged a spot just across the aisle, at a large booth nearly twice the size of ours. The setup hadn’t even started yet, so I couldn’t tell whose it was.

“With this size, i’m guessing this is some large corporate’s booth?” Flash asked, pushing beside me.

“Lilim Publishing,” Marika replied. “But they focus on female-oriented titles. Probably not your usual reads.”

Her long brown curls bounced as she walked ahead of us.

“It's the publisher for Dreamlike Fragrance, right?”

The name jogged my memory. Brother Feng Wu had mentioned they were exhibiting at this con. Too bad Xiao Cangyu—the reclusive author—wasn’t attending due to her social anxiety.

“Whoa!” someone squealed beside me, latching onto my arm. I jumped.

She was small, dark-eyed, and looked up at me like a baby deer begging for food. She had that kind of face—wide-eyed and pleading.

≧∀≦

“You know Dreamlike Fragrance? That’s pretty rare for a guy! Come on, tell me what you thought of it!”

Must be someone from Lilim. And yeah, Dreamlike Fragrance was a hit, but personally the book wasn’t to my tastes, the heroine always struck me as a bit of a… b*tch.

But with Marika still needing their favor, I couldn’t speak freely. Gotta butter up the clients when business is on the line, right?

And besides, this was Xiao Cangyu's breakout work—even Rinka and Yan Liuzhuan had spoken highly of it. If someone like Yan Liuzhuan, who’s practically a walking critique engine, was even considering illustrating it, there had to be something in the story I hadn’t appreciated.

“Uh… I thought the character writing was… really solid?”

She grinned. “Oh, right! I should introduce myself. I’m the editor for Dreamlike Fragrance, and Lilim’s rep for this event. Just call me Sayocho.”

“Thank you so much for letting us stash our books here.”

Hearing that, Marika finally turned around.

“Ah! Sayocho-sensei! I was wondering where you’d gone.”

“I literally watched you walk right past me!”

“You’re too short, Sayocho-sensei.”

Sayocho barely hit 150 cm. Her shoulder-length black hair framed her tiny figure, and a single ahoge stuck up from the top of her head like a proud antenna.

She wore a sleek black office outfit, complete with silver-rimmed glasses and bright lipstick—clearly trying to lean into a mature vibe. But despite her best efforts, her petite height and baby face made her look more like a middle-schooler playing dress-up.

“One more height joke and I’m kicking you out!”

“Okay, okay, sorry—but you are adorable!”

Sayocho let out a snort, somewhere between annoyance and self-deprecating humor.

“Adorable? Really? You think a nearly-thirty working woman is still craving compliments like that?”

Lilim’s storage space was already stacked with novels, Dreamlike Fragrance among them. Since Cangyu wasn’t here to sign, there weren’t many copies—kind of a shame.

After we stashed our manga in one corner, I was already feeling sore from the lifting.

“You two know each other?” Flash asked.

“Yup. Marika-sensei has done illustration work for our publishing house,” Sayocho explained. “Her work’s got incredible movement and energy. Among adventure genre novel readers, she’s pretty famous—sometimes even more than the authors!”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate! I only draw for fun,” Marika said, blushing and flustered.

That explained why she’d so easily borrowed space from a publisher—she wasn’t just a staffer, she was a recognized illustrator.

“Speaking of which… I’ve got a friend who’s really hoping to illustrate for Miyanaga Kohime-sensei, especially for Dreamlike Fragrance.”

“Published works don’t usually switch illustrators,” Sayocho replied, shaking her head. “But if he’s really serious, have him bring his portfolio. Miyanaga-sensei won’t stop writing only with this series, after all.”

It was basically what Brother Feng Wu had told me already—Yan Liuzhuan’s chances of illustrating Dreamlike Fragrance were dead in the water.

Just then, another Lilim staffe sprinted over, looking like she’d run straight out of a crisis.

“Sayocho-sensei, bad news!” she said, waving her phone. “Since Miyanaga-sensei refused to attend the signing event, our social media’s blowing up. People are questioning whether she’s even a real debuting teen girl author! The boss is furious—he wants you to bring Miyanaga-sensei here tomorrow no matter what!”

Sayocho looked at the screen, went pale…

And died standing.