"Hey, how long do you girls plan to stay under the table?" Ryosuke asked, his tone flat and calm.
He nudged the corner of the tablecloth with his toe and sat on the chair, looking down at the girls hiding beneath.
Normally, he wouldn't have cared about their behavior.
But the occasional thump against the tabletop kept scaring off potential customers who came over to peek, which was affecting business. So he had to do something.
"No way! I'm not coming out until Machida leaves this hall," one of them said stubbornly.
"Ryosuke, you wouldn't want to see me socially die at school, would you?"
"Have the police gone yet?"
Each of the three girls under the table gave their reasons for hiding.
Seeing that they had no intention of coming out, Ryosuke rubbed his forehead. Leaving them there forever wasn't a solution either.
He started analyzing the situation, thinking of a strategy.
Yamada, hiding from Machida, didn't want to be dragged back to the small "black room" to meet deadlines—but ultimately, it was because she procrastinated on her work.
She rarely wrote on time, loved playing games, and always tried to perform a miracle on deadline day.
If the miracle failed, the editors would lock her in the "black room."
So every time someone rang her doorbell, she assumed it was someone coming to chase her for work.
Even Ryosuke and Mori had to use a secret signal when visiting her.
Mori's problem was easier to handle.
The police weren't actually there to arrest her—she was just frightened by the scene.
The priority was dealing with those obsessed elementary school classmates, not the police.
As for Eriri, she was afraid her otaku identity would be exposed in front of her classmates, ruining the persona she carefully built at school.
So the key was simply to prevent her from running into other girls from her class.
In her cosplay outfit, Eriri looked very different from usual. Anyone unfamiliar wouldn't immediately connect her to the "princess" of Softleaf Middle School.
Just then, a surprised female voice came from behind.
"Eh, Ryosuke-kun, Eriri, what game are you two playing?"
Ryosuke turned to see Sayuri Sawamura blinking with her moist, curious eyes.
Sayuri was genuinely confused—she had gone to great lengths to help her daughter get this one-on-one opportunity with him, expecting things to go smoothly.
Before leaving that morning, she suggested her daughter ride the train with him.
Thanks to the summer Comic, she had even predicted the crowded train situation in advance.
Physical contact between two people who already liked each other could act as a catalyst. She thought her daughter was cute and shouldn't be disliked by Ryosuke.
She assumed Eriri and this boy would collaborate at the event to grow closer.
But now, why was Eriri hiding under the table with two other adorable girls?
Sayuri gave her daughter a strange look, silently thinking: "No matter what I do, it doesn't work… are you really my daughter?"
"Auntie Sawamura, you're here."
"Mom!"
"Hello, Auntie!" ×2
"Hi there!" Sayuri greeted the girls warmly.
She then turned to Ryosuke with a gentle smile. "Ryosuke-kun, thanks for your help. You two can go enjoy yourselves; I'll watch the booth. Traffic is still bad, and Spencer won't be here anytime soon."
Ryosuke wanted to tell her that all three girls had gone into full ostrich mode and had no plans to come out.
But with Sayuri nearby, he decided to leave Eriri a bit of dignity.
He looked at the three little heads under the table. "Hey, you three don't want to stay down there forever, right?"
The three girls exchanged glances and nodded.
Once a year at Summer Comic, who'd want to hide under a table all day?
There were plenty of merchandise they still wanted to buy.
"That's good. I have a plan. Want to give it a try?"
The girls' eyes lit up simultaneously, nodding eagerly like little chicks pecking at grain.
Ryosuke smiled faintly, confident. "First, Yamada goes out to draw away that group of Chūnibyō kids. Some of them know you from elementary school, but their obsession isn't anywhere near as intense as Mori's."
Inwardly, he considered the risk of Yamada being caught first. But since meeting deadlines was ultimately her responsibility, if she got caught, it would just be bad luck.
Yamada nodded in agreement.
Though Ryosuke's words were blunt, Mori—the creator of the Dark Codex—was the real reason the group idolized Mori.
He then turned to his childhood friend.
"Next, Mori disguises herself as a fellow fan at the event, bumps into the girls from my class, and guides them to buy their items quickly. Once they leave the hall, that's enough. I'll cover any extra expenses."
Mori saluted confidently. "Leave it to me."
Ryosuke then looked at Eriri. "Finally, this is up to you, Lily."
As soon as he spoke, the four women around froze in shock.
Sayuri was the first to recover, glancing at her daughter thoughtfully with an even bigger smile.
So her daughter wasn't entirely hopeless—Ryosuke even used that nickname.
Mori, however, stared wide-eyed at Ryosuke, utterly incredulous.
"Lily? That's Eriri's nickname?"
"You're already that close? Since when?"
Ryosuke… had secrets even Mori didn't know?!
Yamada froze in astonishment. She admired him now—truly impressive.
"You dare use such an intimate nickname in front of Mori, your childhood friend, for another cute girl?"
Eriri's mind had completely crashed. Steam practically rose from her head.
She hadn't expected Ryosuke to call her Lily in front of her mother.
"Idiot! That nickname is only for when you're helping me hide my identity! Not in front of my mom!"
Sensing the unusual reactions, Ryosuke frowned. "What's wrong with you all?"
Sayuri stepped forward, gently patting Eriri's head to bring her back to reality.
Then she turned to Ryosuke. "It's fine. Continue, Ryosuke-kun."
He nodded and addressed Eriri. "The second volume illustrations for Swords are mostly done, right? I don't have new requests for now. You can use the excuse of collaborating with Yamada to draw Machida away. Of course, that's up to you. If you don't want to, I can handle Machida myself."
Eriri pondered carefully.
Her current doujin circle, egoistic-lily, was her father's creation last year, with only their small family as official members.
Even though she had illustrated two of Ryosuke's light novels, she was still a little-known artist.
Her efforts at Summer Comic were aimed at raising her fame because she realized a serious problem.
As an illustrator, her reputation was slowly falling behind Ryosuke's.
At first, readers noticed the beautiful illustrations. But when the novels became popular, the author gained most of the fame.
Unless an illustrator had many works, few people paid attention to the creator—most only thought, "These illustrations are beautiful."
Her personal website had fewer fans than Ryosuke.
If this continued, over time, she would fall further behind, making it seem like she was "riding on his coattails."
Eriri was naturally strong-willed, even bordering on obsessive.
So she considered collaborating with Yamada after finishing the illustrations.
She had been a Yamada fan herself, of similar age and interests, and lived nearby.
Most importantly, she could sense a familiar kind of aura in Yamada.
Eriri looked up, determination blazing in her blue eyes.
"I'll handle drawing Machida away," she declared firmly.
She quickly averted her gaze, whispering with little confidence, "But don't get me wrong. I'm not doing this for you. I… I'm doing it for myself."
Yamada's eyes sparkled with delight. "You mean you'll draw illustrations for me? That's wonderful!"
Then she realized a problem: she was supposed to go out first.
Looking at Ryosuke, she asked with a smile, "Ryosuke, what if I get caught by Machida right away? You must have thought of that, right?"
Ryosuke didn't answer, only smiled faintly.
Yamada's smile faded. She squinted, testing the waters. "You've thought about this, right?"
Ryosuke continued to watch silently, saying nothing.
Suddenly, Yamada's face lost all color, and she slithered back under the table.
Huddled beneath, she whispered, "No! If I get caught… Machida said she'd lock me in the black room again. I just escaped…"
The thought of being trapped in a pitch-dark black room, becoming an emotionless writing machine, filled her with despair.
The future seemed bleak—a complete dead-end.