Parallel world Manga Artist-Chapter 206: Ideas and Proposals

Once Rei saw that Misaki’s attention was fully focused, he didn’t dally and quickly laid out all his thoughts.

A few minutes later, the expressions on the sisters’ faces, Miyu and Misaki, changed completely.

"You want to cooperate with the Hoshimori Group for manga serialization and distribution, while retaining all copyrights to your works?" Misaki frowned.

"Mmm... that’s right," Rei replied.

"In fact, whether it’s Arcane or One-Punch Man, I could have cooperated with the Hoshimori Group this way as well. I use the Group’s global distribution channels to sell the manga, and the Group takes a share of the profits. It’s just that I previously judged they would most likely reject this idea, so I never brought it up."

"Then why bring it up now?" Misaki asked, fixing her gaze on him.

"Because..." Rei smiled faintly.

"The work I’m about to create will most likely be the most commercially valuable project of my career so far. Whether as an anime or a manga, its popularity will almost certainly set a new personal record. On the premise that I have the capital and capability to produce the anime independently, there’s no chance I’d share its copyrights with the Hoshimori Group. But at the same time, I don’t want to give up the profits from the manga side either."

"So, sharing copyrights is off the table," Rei continued calmly,"but cooperating on tankōbon sales and splitting those profits is fine. And besides..."

"Didn’t you say before that the Group wouldn’t agree if Hunter ended?" he added lightly.

"My new work can be serialized as both manga and anime simultaneously. I’m confident that by the midpoint of serialization, its contribution to Dream Comic will be no less than, if not greater than, Hunter."

Miyu watched Rei speak so casually with her sister and subconsciously swallowed.

He wasn’t avoiding her at all while discussing these matters, clearly, he trusted her deeply.

But Miyu knew that if even half a sentence of this leaked out, it would trigger an earthquake in Japan’s animation and manga industries.

Shirogane’s new work. No intention of sharing copyright profits with the manga group. Only tankōbon profit-sharing. Simultaneous anime and manga serialization.

If any other manga artist dared to propose something like this, there would be only one outcome.

Death.

In this industry, how could a beast of burden make demands of its master?

Asking for better treatment was one thing, but Rei’s proposal outright treated the manga group as a tool.

In essence, he was saying: ’The success is guaranteed. I’m willing to cooperate, but ownership is non-negotiable. Take the margins I allow, or take nothing at all.’

And yet.

In the entirety of Japan’s current animation industry, Rei truly did have the qualifications to make such demands.

In terms of capital, he was far from lacking. The profits from several global hits meant he had hundreds of millions in liquid assets, enough to independently produce ten full anime projects. And that didn’t even account for the future IP value of Arcane, One-Punch Man, and Hunter. Both Arcane and One-Punch Man had games already in development; no one could predict how much more revenue they would generate after release.

Rei could earn hundreds of millions a year without lifting a finger.

If it weren’t for the non-compete clause in his early contract with the Hoshimori Group, restricting him from cooperating with other manga publishers.

He wouldn’t need to negotiate so carefully at all.

Any of the other five major manga groups would agree to whatever terms he proposed.

After all, the greatest value in recruiting Rei wasn’t gaining Shirogane.

It was making Hoshimori Group lose Shirogane.

If Miyu could see this, Misaki naturally could as well.

She understood that Rei’s proposal was insane, but also restrained.

From his standpoint, the demands were entirely reasonable.

However...

"The chances of this proposal being approved by the Group’s senior management aren’t high," Misaki sighed softly.

From Rei’s perspective, the terms were fair. From the executives’ perspective, they were outrageous.

In fact, the higher-ups had already been deeply dissatisfied when Rei personally handled the animation production for One-Punch Man and Arcane. After witnessing their global success, the executives were filled with envy, jealousy, and resentment.

Even Editor-in-Chief Han had been criticized repeatedly in meetings, questioned about why he hadn’t locked Shirogane into stricter contracts back when 5 Centimeters per Second was first serialized.

Misaki herself had also been held accountable.

But had Han truly not considered it?

The truth was that every time the Hoshimori Group dangled higher royalty percentages in front of Rei, percentages tied to creative restrictions and non-compete clauses lasting ten years or more, Rei had refused without hesitation.

Even now, despite his status, Rei’s revenue-sharing ratio at Hoshimori Group was still only on par with Miyu’s.

But that stubbornness had bought him something far more valuable.

Freedom.

"What if the Group refuses?" Misaki asked quietly.

"That’d be troublesome," Rei chuckled.

"I probably wouldn’t give up the manga profits either. At worst, I’d find a publisher myself. It would be difficult at the beginning, though..."

After all, the non-compete clause only restricted Rei from cooperating with other manga groups. It didn’t forbid him from finding a printing factory on his own, or working directly with merchandise and distribution channels. Even if he chose not to serialize at all and instead released tankōbon volumes directly, the contract couldn’t restrain him that far.

"You... you really don’t leave yourself any room for losses," Misaki said, sighing in resignation.

But she wasn’t angry. To her, being a manga editor was more of a passion than a career, she enjoyed the sense of accomplishment that came from discovering successful works. The interests of the manga group itself had little to do with her.

She sighed simply because she could already imagine being called into yet another meeting and questioned by several senior executives, which was exhausting.

Those higher-ups would never dare confront Rei directly, but they would certainly vent their frustration on her, his assigned editor.

"I’ll report this to the Editor-in-Chief first. After that, it’ll go up to senior management. In the end, you’ll probably be asked to meet a few executives face-to-face," Misaki said after a moment’s thought. "But I can’t promise any outcome."

"I understand. I’m just testing the waters," Rei replied calmly.

"Thank you for your trouble, Editor Misaki. You haven’t eaten yet, right? I’ll treat you both to dinner this afternoon."

"Huh?" Miyu stared at him in disbelief. "Such a serious issue, and you’re just... done with it?"

"I remember Mom argued with Dream Comic for over half a year just to end her manga. In the end, she had to serialize for another full year until the popularity dropped before they finally agreed."

"If you ever reach Rei’s level," Misaki cut in, glancing at her sister, "you’ll be able to make demands like his too."

March came and went quietly.

But in the final week of the month, Rei began taking concrete action.

Animation production couldn’t be rushed. Even with Arcane Season 2 airing in April and the Hunter x Hunter ant arc underway, if he didn’t move now, the Demon Slayer anime wouldn’t premiere until at least the year after next.

Judging by how Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba rose to prominence in his previous life, driven entirely by its extraordinary animation quality, it would have to be produced to an even higher standard in this world.

By coincidence, with Arcane’s production complete, Illumination Production Company’s staff were temporarily idle.

And in his previous life, Demon Slayer had launched simultaneously as both a TV anime and a theatrical film.

With a proven blueprint already available, Rei saw no reason to reinvent the wheel.

If he committed to this project, it would mean launching multiple productions at once: the TV anime, the Mugen Train theatrical film, and later the Infinity Castle arc films.

The entire production cycle would take well over a year.

Producing several anime seasons and theatrical films simultaneously demanded not only massive funding, but also top-tier technical capacity.

Just listening to Rei’s plan made Himari, chairwoman of Illumination Animation, feel her scalp prickle.

She had thought the company’s one or two hundred employees were more than sufficient.

Turns out, they weren’t.

Who starts producing three or four theatrical films before the TV anime has even aired?

"Shouldn’t we release the first TV season first, gauge market response, and only then decide on the films?" she asked carefully.

Rei answered with a single sentence.

"Doing it that way would drag the project out for more than ten years. How many ten-year spans does a person have to waste? Creativity is endless, but human life isn’t. We’ve already won annual TV ratings championships. Haven’t you ever thought about winning Japan’s annual box-office crown too?"

That single line reignited Himari’s passion.

Rei had always spoken like this, bold, absolute, almost arrogant.

Those lines had long since become infamous within Japan’s animation industry.

Nearly every professional had heard of his audacious declarations.

But the problem was... history had proven him right.

He didn’t just talk.

He delivered.

"Fine," Himari said through clenched teeth. "You’re the one with the money. If you’re not afraid of losses, neither are we."

Rei moved quickly.

More than a week passed after Misaki reported the proposal to the Hoshimori Group, with no response. They were clearly debating countermeasures.

Rei didn’t care.

If cooperation was possible, he would accept it. If not, he wouldn’t force it.

Either way, Demon Slayer’s anime would be produced.

And so, time quietly moved on.

April arrived.