These were the five major light novel publishers based in Minami, the capital of the southern province.
Basically, the headquarters of these five companies were located in the central area of the southern part of the city, so Ren wouldn't need to travel all over the district.
After an hour's bus ride, he arrived at the headquarters of Red Violet Literary.
The skyscraper looming above him was at least two hundred meters tall, but, of course, Red Violet didn't occupy the entire building. Its offices were limited to the nineteenth through twenty-first floors.
Before arriving, Ren had researched everything he could about the five publishers: submission rules, reputation, editorial departments, and success rates.
Now, after registering at reception, he entered the elevator with a mixture of excitement and nervousness that churned his stomach.
It was 10 a.m. and the building wasn't particularly busy, so Ren had the elevator to himself, nervously pressing the button for the 20th floor. Just before the elevator doors closed, a pair of thin, pale hands entered and locked them.
The doors opened again.
A girl wearing a baseball cap and a mask entered, carrying a stack of semi-transparent plastic folders full of documents against her chest. She moved to the opposite side of the elevator, keeping a respectful distance.
Ren estimated she was about 1.60 meters tall, with waist-length black hair, a light pink sports jacket, and loose beige trousers. He couldn't see her face, but from her eyes and the soft, fair skin around them, he realized she was probably very pretty.
She pressed the button for the 19th floor. Ren wasn't trying to peek, but his gaze, in a fleeting glance, caught some documents in the semi-transparent folder the girl was carrying.
On the first page, written in colored pen, were bold letters: "Yesterday's Starlight!", followed by a thick stack of printed manuscript pages.
Considering the floor she chose, it was easy to guess.
"Ah."
"She must also be here to deliver a manuscript."
Ren briefly wondered what kind of novel "Yesterday's Starlight" would be.
A few thoughts crossed his mind. Perhaps his glance at the girl's folder had been a little indiscreet, because she became more alert and subtly adjusted her posture. As the elevator ascended, a strange and inexplicable atmosphere filled the room.
"Um… sorry," Ren said first, determined to ease the tension. "I just wanted to let you know… If you're here to submit a manuscript to Red Violet Literary, the 20th floor is ideal. The 19th floor is for the operations team and senior editors. Submissions from new authors are accepted on the 20th floor."
After all, it was a little impolite of him to keep staring at the folder she was holding against her chest. His words had actually put her at ease.
"Thank you." After a few seconds of silence, the girl raised her hand and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor, turning off the elevator.
Her voice was soft and clear, with a slight hint of coldness. But the awkward atmosphere dissipated almost instantly.
"No problem," Ren replied politely.
Then, silence.
They quickly arrived at the twentieth floor. The two exited the elevator one after the other, walking down a corridor filled from beginning to end with posters - illustrations from Red Violet's most successful light novel series. Many of them had sold hundreds of thousands or even over a million copies.
Ren owned complete collections of several of them.
After walking down the corridor, they finally arrived at the lobby of the Red Violet Literature office.
Upon entering, the place was bustling with activity. Light novels attract more newcomers than any other creative field, so even in the cold of early February, seven or eight people were already in line with manuscripts in hand.
In the central editorial area, stacks of manuscripts mailed from all over the country, or delivered personally by the authors, were being carefully reviewed by the editors.
"Are you two here to submit a paper?"
The receptionist, a long-legged woman wearing black stockings and a professional business skirt, greeted them with a smile.
"Yes," replied the masked girl.
"Yes," Ren repeated half a second later.
Only then did the girl finally look at him a second time. So he was there to hand in his paper too.
"Please follow me." The receptionist led them to the waiting room.
"There are seven people ahead of you, but don't worry, our local review editor will meet with you in twenty minutes."
"Twenty minutes?" the girl repeated.
"That's right! Twenty minutes." After the confirmation, the receptionist led the two to the waiting room and left.
"Seven people… twenty minutes."
The girl's gaze drifted to the frosted glass door on the other side of the room.
The shadows reflected in the frosted glass showed that there was only one review editor inside. This simple piece of information revealed the cruelty of this industry.
Each Red Violet magazine publishes only a few dozen periodicals of various types, and each periodical has only about a dozen slots for serialized novels.
Most of the time, a new serialized novel only becomes available when the previous one ends.
These limited slots for serial publication were fiercely contested by a large group of imaginative young people from the Southern Province, influenced by various forms of anime and manga, who wanted to risk their lives and careers to become light novel writers.
Most manuscripts were doomed to failure from the moment they were submitted.
Experienced editors needed only a minute or two to glance at a few thousand words and decide the fate of a submitted novel.
The masked girl gripped the plastic folder tighter.
Meanwhile, Ren sat comfortably, looking around with interest. He even asked the receptionist for a cup of hot coffee.
There was no reason to be nervous. If a masterpiece, created with care and dedication, were rejected in a minute, it would be a huge blow to the creator, of course.
But "Ao Haru Ride" wasn't really his creation.
So, if Red Violet wouldn't accept it, he would simply try the other four publishers.
"Mr. Yamamoto?"
The receptionist beckoned him to the meeting room.
Less than twenty minutes had passed; only fifteen minutes. After the seven people before her left the meeting room dejectedly, it was finally her turn.
"Ah, my turn," Ren murmured, straightening up.
He picked up his carefully copied manuscript of Ao Haru Ride, pushed the door open, and entered.
End of Chapter 3
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