Two days after his phone call with his father—
"You've already finished two weeks' worth of chapters, Jinguu-sensei?!"
The voice of editor Okuda on the other end of the line was filled with shock.
As an editor at Weekly Shounen JUMP, he knew very well—Jinguu Akira had no assistants. He worked entirely on his own. Seeing the complexity of the backgrounds and the precision of the linework, Okuda was genuinely stunned.
Most mangaka, especially newcomers without a team, spend every waking hour immersed in their craft. Even if a single chapter is only twenty pages, the process of hand-drawing it all and planning out the panel flow is grueling.
"I told you before, didn't I? You might just end up being the most relaxed editor in the entire manga industry. With me, chasing deadlines probably won't ever be a thing."
"Haha! If that's true, then I might actually cry tears of joy!"
Okuda's laughter boomed through the phone.
"You saw the contract details in the email, right? If you've got any questions about the profit-sharing terms or anything else, just ask me. Honestly, they're a bit of a mess."
They'd only met in person twice, but since then they occasionally chatted over the phone or through voice calls about the creative process, and their relationship had grown quite friendly.
"I've gone through the basics. If anything doesn't make sense, I'll be sure to reach out to you."
"Great. Well, I'll let you get back to it. I've just been buried in manuscripts over here—feels like I'm drowning."
Then, almost like an afterthought, Okuda added, "Oh, right—heads-up. We haven't finalized the reader poll or sales stats for this week yet, but from what I'm hearing up top, they might want to schedule an interview with you."
"…An interview?"
Jinguu paused his work and frowned slightly.
"What kind of interview?"
"Don't worry, it's just something internal—one of our affiliated magazines. Nothing intense. Just the usual fare: short questions, basic stuff. You don't need to prepare anything in advance. It's mostly a PR thing, to boost your popularity."
"And the schedule?"
"How's this weekend sound? If you're busy, we can shift it to next week."
"No, this weekend's fine. I've got some free time now, but things might get busy next week."
"Ah, you're a lifesaver, Jinguu-sensei. I'll come pick you up then."
"Alright. Looking forward to it."
After hanging up, Jinguu leaned back, thoughtful. He shrugged.
They were using his interview to increase magazine exposure—and he, in turn, could raise his own public profile. A fair exchange. No one was exploiting anyone here.
So he wasn't opposed to the idea.
"Alright… done!"
He set down his stylus and inspected the CG on his screen with deep satisfaction.
A stunning young girl with short blonde hair stared back at him. Anyone from the pre-reincarnation anime community would have instantly recognized her: Arcueid Brunestud, the Princess of the True Ancestors from Tsukihime.
But this wasn't the outdated, janky CG from the original game. Jinguu had gone all out, rendering a version that could rival the top-tier galgames on the market.
That said, the particular CG he had just finished… was that kind of scene.
The moonlit princess was blushing deeply, her lips parted in an unmistakably compromising act. An exquisitely crafted heroine, with flawless proportions, delicate shading, and a provocative pose—an erotic charge radiated from the image, potent enough to make any viewer's heart race and face flush.
Even he felt the heat rise just looking at it. He half-joked to himself about hiring an escort to cool down.
"The beauty of being in Japan is that I can draw H-scenes with zero shame!"
Grinning, Jinguu's fingers danced across the keyboard, inputting line after line of spicy dialogue into the visual novel's script tool, painting the scene with words just as vividly as with images.
Sex without love is hollow—but love without sex is incomplete.
No matter how polished the story or how vast the worldbuilding, without H-scenes, a galgame always felt like it was missing something crucial—like a meal with no spice, or a dream cut short.
"I'm doing God's work here, same as Aoi Sora, Hotaru Akane, and Ai Uehara! I am the next culturally esteemed, morally perfect Jinguu-sensei!"
In the silence of his home, he declared his wild ambitions aloud, giggling madly as he threw himself back into writing.
His speed rivaled a man possessed.
"…Voice acting though. Hmmm."
He froze mid-keystroke.
The original Tsukihime hadn't had voice acting, but for his perfected version—Tsukihime 1.0—he absolutely wanted to include it.
Of course, even a famous game like Fate/stay night had gone mute for its H-scenes. No agency would let a top-tier seiyuu like Kawasumi Ayako—Saber's voice—record lines moaning her heart out for a hentai scene.
Then again… what about those who weren't famous yet?
His eyes widened. He jumped to his feet and began pacing the room.
His Labrador, uncertain what its master was scheming, stood and followed him, tail wagging.
Taketatsu Ayana… Tomatsu Haruka… Kayano Ai… Hanazawa Kana… Toyama Nao… Yuuki Aoi…
The names of young, future stars flickered through his mind like shooting stars.
They weren't famous now. Many hadn't even debuted yet. But they would become legends. If he caught them early, he could get them to voice his characters—including the lewd parts.
Kousaka Kirino. Asuna. Inori. Tachibana Kanade. Chitoge. Madoka…
Just the thought of those iconic voices whispering sultry lines in his game sent a shiver down his spine.
As for the protagonist's voice?
…Duh. He'd do it himself.
"Sure, gathering all of them would be tough right now. But one or two? Totally possible. At the very least, I already know Taketatsu Ayana."
The more he imagined it, the more plausible it seemed.
Maybe… just maybe… this version of Tsukihime I'm creating… could become a timeless legend.
Just as that thought settled in—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang.
Jinguu Akira stopped in his tracks.