On the other end of the line—
Ryuji Aida's excited "Fine!" thundered through Seiji Fujiwara's apartment like a crack of lightning.
Sonoko Machida clapped a hand over her mouth, barely stopping herself from crying out.
Her wide eyes locked onto the boy lounging casually on the sofa, and for a moment she felt as though she were witnessing history itself.
The Editor-in-Chief… had actually agreed to this insane gamble!
Beside them, Utaha Kasumigaoka—still playing the part of the silent maid—kept her hands hidden beneath her apron. Her fists had clenched so tightly that her nails dug into the tender flesh of her palms, and she hadn't even noticed.
Her worldview had been shattered.
So this was what true talent meant—that even rules themselves would bend before it.
"Warukawa-sensei, your confidence and boldness command my respect!"
On the other end, Aida's voice carried open admiration. "If this Wagering Agreement remains a private contract, it would be far too dull! Why don't we announce it publicly—fire it off like a celebratory cannon shot before A Certain Magical Index even launches!"
Seiji raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. "Go public, huh?"
"Exactly! Public!" Aida's tone was sharp and resolute. "I want the entire industry to see the sheer audacity of both Fushikawa Bunko and Prince Warukawa!"
It was a marketing strategy so daring it bordered on reckless.
To take a business contract and turn it into a national spectacle—a wager for all to see.
If they won, both author and publisher would be enshrined in glory.
If they lost, they'd be branded as arrogant fools, mocked as overhyped, forever carrying the stain of failure.
"I'm in." Seiji agreed without a shred of hesitation.
When it came to confidence, no one in the world had more faith in Index than he did.
After discussing a few more details, Seiji ended the call. He looked at the still-stunned Sonoko Machida and chuckled.
"Machida, get the contract ready. I'll head to Fushikawa tomorrow to sign it."
"Ah—yes! Yes, of course!" Sonoko jolted back to reality, bowed quickly, and excused herself.
――――
The next afternoon.
After Seiji signed, Fushikawa Bunko dropped a bombshell on both their official website and Twitter account.
The headline blazed in bold blood-red letters, overflowing with provocation and swagger:
[Fushikawa Bunko and genius newcomer "Prince Warukawa" sign an unprecedented Wagering Agreement for 350,000 copies!]
The contents were as blunt as a hammer, revealing the very heart of the contract to the public:
"Our company has signed a publishing agreement with 'Prince Warukawa-sensei' for his newest long-form masterpiece, A Certain Magical Index."
"By mutual consent, the following 'Wagering Terms' have been established: Should Volume 1 fail to reach 350,000 copies in sales, royalties will be settled at 10%. Should sales surpass 350,000, royalties will be paid at 15%—the highest rate in the industry—for all copies sold."
"We believe in Sensei's talent, and we believe in the market's choice! A Certain Magical Index releases in one month—please look forward to it!"
The announcement hit the publishing world like a meteor, sending shockwaves everywhere.
The first explosion came from the private forums where authors and editors mingled.
[Thread: Holy crap! Has Fushikawa lost its mind?! Did I read that right—350k wager?!]
[1st post: No joke, I just checked the official site. It's there, front and center! Did Ryuji Aida get hexed or something?!]
[2nd post: Do you even get what 350k means? Last year's #8 bestseller barely hit that! And this is a rookie, on his first long novel? That's insane!]
[3rd post: Fifteen percent royalties… I've been writing for ten years and only just crawled to 10%. My worldview's officially broken.]
[4th post: Hahahaha! Year's best drama incoming! Mark my words—if this actually works, I'll livestream myself eating a keyboard upside down! Total marketing stunt. Just wait for Prince Warukawa to go crying back to his edgy short stories!]
[5th post: Rational take—this is high-level play. If they lose, Fushikawa only pays 10% and still earns sympathy for "supporting a rookie." If they win, they cash in big. Either way, they profit.]
From there, the storm swept across social media and reader communities.
Average readers might not understand royalties, but the number "350,000" and the word "wager" lit a fire under their gossip-loving hearts.
"Who's Prince Warukawa again? Oh—the guy who wrote 6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns? Damn, he's got guts!"
"Switching to a full-length novel is risky enough, but making a bet like this? Respect."
"Not gonna lie, this is kinda hype. Doesn't matter how the book is, I admire the guts!"
"Wake up, people! This is just publisher marketing. They're setting an impossible bar so that even if he 'fails' at 100k+, people will say 'wow, impressive anyway.' Total spin."
In no time, the internet was ablaze—mockery, excitement, admiration, skepticism.
All eyes had turned toward Prince Warukawa and his upcoming A Certain Magical Index.
――――
Meanwhile, inside Seiji Fujiwara's apartment.
Utaha Kasumigaoka sat frozen at her desk, staring at her phone. The screen displayed the very announcement that had detonated across the web.
Her finger swiped absently, until she found herself on the calculator app.
Almost unconsciously, she punched in numbers.
Most light novel volumes in Japan sold for about 700 yen.
700 yen × 350,000 × 0.15 = ?
The result popped up. Utaha's breath caught.
36,750,000 yen.
Thirty-six million, seven hundred fifty thousand yen.
Off a single volume. If he won this bet, that was the payout.
Money.
So much money—just for writing a novel.
Her heart skipped.
With that kind of money, she could pay for her mother's treatment without selling herself.
With that kind of money, she could wipe out her family's debt in one stroke.
With that kind of money, she wouldn't have to endure Seiji Fujiwara's whims and torment anymore.
"…Why don't I try writing too?" The thought burst out before she could stop it.
If that bastard Fujiwara could do it, why couldn't she?
Her grades had always been top of the class. Back in middle school, she'd had short stories published in magazines and newspapers.
With her skills, writing light novels—a field with notoriously low entry barriers—would be child's play.
That's right. I can write light novels too.
Slamming her phone shut, Utaha's eyes blazed with newfound fire.
She pulled out her laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as she typed out the title she'd been holding in her heart for years—
Love Metronome!
If Seiji Fujiwara could do it, then Utaha Kasumigaoka sure as hell could too.
――――
But while some rejoiced, others despaired—and for one man, the end had already arrived.
In a dingy apartment, author Ken Saki sat staring blankly at Fushikawa's official announcement.
The ramen bowl in his hand slipped with a loud crash, spilling broth all over the floor.
They… they actually went through with it?!
And made the wager public for the whole world to see?!
Cold sweat drenched his back.
His mind flashed to the sarcastic "leak post" he'd made on the forums just days ago. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the floor.
I'm done. I'm finished.
This wasn't just badmouthing behind someone's back anymore.
Now that the project had been elevated to a strategic centerpiece of the company, his little "exposé" was tantamount to sabotaging a flagship product launch.
He had challenged the very bottom line of capital.
Riiiing!
The shrill sound of his phone made him jump.
The caller ID: his editor.
Hands shaking, he picked up.
But instead of the usual gentle voice, what came through was ice-cold.
"Ken Saki. Are you out of your mind?"
"You actually used an alt account to slander Prince Warukawa-sensei?!"
"This agreement was confidential until today. Only a handful of people knew. Tracing the leak won't be hard at all."
"N-no, I—" Ken stammered, desperate to plead.
But the editor cut him off, merciless.
"Tomorrow. 9 a.m. Come to the office. The legal department will discuss early termination of your contract and compensation for damaging the company's reputation."
"Fushikawa doesn't tolerate backstabbers. And neither does this industry."
"You're finished, Ken Saki."
Click.
The line went dead.
Beeeeep… beeeeep…
Ken sat there pale as a ghost, listening to the busy tone.
His career was over. Every publisher in the industry would blacklist him.
He was done as a writer.
――――
At the same time—
Seiji Fujiwara received a call from Sonoko Machida.
"Sensei, I sincerely apologize! It was due to our poor internal management that such scum caused you trouble." Her voice shook with regret and fear as she relayed how Fushikawa had handled it.
Seiji didn't sound angry. He just chuckled. "Good job. Just be more careful next time."
"Yes, yes, of course!" Sonoko replied quickly. "To show our apologies, the Editor-in-Chief has authorized a special payment—three million yen will be transferred to your account tomorrow, as compensation for the damage to your reputation."
"Well, that's awfully generous."
A small smile tugged at Seiji's lips.
Fushikawa's response had been more than satisfactory.
He was pleased.