May arrived, and the Seishun Award entered the final stage of judging.
This year's panel consisted of more than just Asou Akiya, who had joined to indulge his lover, and Randou, who had been coaxed into participating for fun. There was also Natsume Souseki, who had come after hearing about the competition. With all three of them seated together, the caliber of the Seishun Award rose dramatically. After all, it had originally been nothing more than a small government-sponsored literary contest.
Asou Akiya reviewed the submitted novels alongside the other judges.
Meanwhile, Randou scrutinized every manuscript with a critical eye, trying to determine which one had been written by Shibusawa Tatsuhiko.
Natsume Souseki, on the other hand, had come purely to enjoy the spectacle. He was genuinely looking forward to seeing the works produced by Edogawa Ranpo, Oda Sakunosuke, and Shibusawa Tatsuhiko.
The Japanese literary world had grown desolate.
What kind of masterpieces might emerge if these geniuses turned their talents to writing novels?
Having never read any of Ranpo's previous work, Natsume Souseki's expectations were exceptionally high. As fate would have it, he had successfully avoided all of the Great Detective's earlier, nonsensical attempts at fiction. Anyone who knew about those stories would have found it difficult to believe that Edogawa Ranpo could ever make it to the finals. His previous novels had practically been jokes.
"Oh?"
Asou Akiya smiled as he flipped through one of the printed manuscripts.
"I've found a familiar name."
"Let me see."
As though they shared the same thought, Randou leaned over to look.
Akiya deliberately blocked his view and immersed himself in the manuscript instead.
The novel was titled "Cold Sorrow"*.
*{Note: This is an original title. There's no real life work titled "Cold Sorrow" by Oda Sakunosuke. I checked.}
It told the story of a third-rate assassin who, after losing his job, found himself on the verge of starving to death. The plot was engaging, the details rich, and the countless trivial frustrations the assassin encountered in everyday life were portrayed with remarkable realism.
Without looking up, Akiya absentmindedly said,
"Randou, go read the manuscript in front of you."
Randou immediately grew jealous.
For the sake of a novel, Akiya was actually hiding it from him and deliberately keeping him in suspense!
Could it be...
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's manuscript?!
Randou tossed aside the printed manuscript of a dull, lifeless novel and reached for the next one.
Ten novels had made it into the finals. Almost all of them were short stories. There were ten judges in total, each a renowned editor or respected literary figure, giving everyone more than enough time to read every submission at their own pace.
Then Randou's eyes landed on a short story titled "Three Wives".
His eyelid twitched.
An erotic novel?
The author certainly had some nerve.
He discreetly glanced around to make sure the other judges were all absorbed in their own manuscripts before lowering his head to read. A faint smile slowly curved his lips.
The novel turned out to be...
A love story.
Conveniently enough, Randou loved reading those.
Meanwhile, the third judge, Natsume Souseki, received...
Or rather, was handed...
A thick novel.
He looked around in bewilderment.
Why was everyone else's manuscript so thin while mine is this thick?
Privately, Natsume grumbled about whichever simple-minded fool had submitted such a lengthy work, overwhelming everyone else by sheer volume alone.
He looked at the title.
"Black Magic Notebook."
The moment he read it, an overwhelming aura of darkness, mystery, and adolescent grandiosity washed over him.
He immediately concluded that the author couldn't possibly be very old.
Opening to the prologue, Natsume quietly settled down to read.
It began:
"I wish to reveal here the secrets of magic. Though I call it 'magic,' it bears no relation whatsoever to the vulgar stage tricks performed by entertainers such as Shokyokusai Tenkatsu in years past or the more recent Mr. Kio of the Russian State Circus. Rather, it is something that dates back to humanity's infancy, when mankind dwelled in caves and wisdom had yet to awaken..."
As he continued reading, the calm, measured prose gradually changed his impression.
No wonder it had reached the finals.
This was... surprisingly interesting.
Among the remaining judges, someone suddenly finished a manuscript in one sitting. His eyes brimmed with tears as he exclaimed,
"A mystery novel! A genuinely outstanding mystery novel! Ever since Kudo Yusaku moved to America, Japanese mystery fiction has been left without a worthy successor and has lagged behind overseas works. At last, we've finally found a promising new talent!"
Asou Akiya abruptly looked up.
A mystery novel?
Without changing his expression, Randou calmly closed the manuscript with the eye-catching title and quietly asked Akiya,
"Could it be Ranpo's? I remember he's been writing mystery novels all this time."
"I'm not so sure..." Akiya admitted. "Ranpo's writing is... kind of a mystery in itself."
He had certainly been diligent lately, but whether that diligence had produced a good manuscript was another matter entirely.
Akiya immediately began sorting through the stack of finalists, skipping over the familiar titles until he finally found the one submitted by Edogawa Ranpo—
"The Two-Sen Copper Coin."
The story followed a protagonist who came into possession of a two-sen copper coin. Hidden within a crack in the coin was a tiny slip of paper, which became the clue that allowed him to unravel the mystery behind a theft.
Akiya's excitement surged.
This was Edogawa Ranpo's very first masterpiece from the original world—
The work that had launched his literary career!
Another great author had awakened!
The entire Sunday passed with Asou Akiya and Randou immersed in reading inside the room reserved for the Seishun Award judges.
The soft rustling of turning pages came only at long intervals.
Everyone was reading with complete concentration, savoring every page and revisiting passages over and over, unwilling to overlook the talent displayed by Japan's new generation of young writers.
Natsume Souseki rubbed his tired eyes. After finally finishing Black Magic Notebook, he looked around the room.
The other judges had already finished all the short stories.
Now every one of them had moved on to the longest—and most difficult—novel among the finalists.
"Was there no word limit for the competition?" he asked.
"Everyone else submitted short stories, but this author wrote an entire novel."
"There wasn't," one of the organizers replied. "We only specified a minimum word count. That's why nearly everyone submitted short stories of around ten to twenty thousand words."
"I see."
Natsume flipped back to the title page to see who had written the black magic novel.
The author's pen name made him smile.
—Shikawa Ryuuji.
Appearances could be deceiving.
Who would have thought the White Qilin had once been so obsessed with this sort of thing?
There was no longer any doubt.
The author of the novel was Shibusawa Tatsuhiko.
In order to satisfy Asou Akiya's assignment, he had turned his own embarrassing, cringe-inducing past into a novel. The sheer amount of material he had poured into it was astonishing.
Chuckling to himself, Natsume Souseki moved on to the remaining nine entries, pleasantly surprised by the caliber of this new generation of writers.
The veteran of Japan's literary world already had a rough idea of how the rankings would turn out.
The White Qilin was going to lose...
And he would lose fairly.
The moment Randou saw the pen name "Shikawa Ryuuji", his first reaction was that the fellow had an unbelievable amount of nerve.
Akiya's novel hadn't even been officially published or promoted yet, and this person had already taken the name of its protagonist as his pen name, as if he wanted the whole world to know about his relationship with Asou Akiya.
Anyone who didn't know better might even assume that Asou Akiya had written a novel specifically for Shikawa Ryuuji.
Damn it.
Even though that was actually the truth, outsiders didn't need to know that!
Suppressing the urge to tear the manuscript in half, Randou wore a smile tinged with icy menace.
The chill radiating from him made Asou Akiya shiver.
Completely baffled, Akiya couldn't understand it.
Why did Randou show signs of turning dark every time Shibusawa Tatsuhiko was involved?
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko was only a little over two years older than Ranpo!
"Randou?"
Akiya called out.
With impeccable composure, Randou replied,
"Don't worry. I'll vote fairly."
The first weekend of May came to an end.
On May 8, the Seishun Award officially announced its winners.
First Prize: Mystery Short Story, "The Two-Sen Copper Coin" — Edogawa Ranpo
Second Prize: Realist Short Story, "Cold Sorrow" — Oda Sakunosuke
Third Prize: Absurdist Short Story, "Dr. Wind" — Dark Self
Excellence Award: Romance Short Story, "Three Wives" — Tokutarou
The full-length novel Black Magic Notebook whose content was more than twice the combined length of all those short stories met a crushing defeat.
It didn't even place in the top four.
Because when it comes to sheer entertainment value...
It had lost.
Lost to those short stories.
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko: "..."
In a fit of anger, white mist began to spread, creating the bizarre sight of mist forming indoors.
The servants watched their young master with pounding hearts, acutely aware of the oppressive atmosphere surrounding him. He had stayed up night after night, pouring everything into writing an entire novel...
Only to come away without a single award.
Staring at the list of winners displayed on the television, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko looked as though he were memorizing a list of people he intended to kill.
The White Qilin's death stare.jpg
No matter how furious he was, he slowly closed his eyes, suppressing both his murderous intent and a trace of grievance he hadn't felt in many years.
"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "As long as I can still take first place."
The servant, worried that Young Master Tatsuhiko had been driven mad by the blow, nervously reminded him,
"But... the competition is already over."
"No," Shibusawa Tatsuhiko replied coldly.
The instant he pressed send on a message from his phone, the television broadcast was interrupted by a breaking news update.
"The Seishun Award short story competition has officially concluded. We now present the results of the Seishun Award full-length novel division. First Prize goes to Black Magic Notebook! With its fresh and original subject matter, this novel explores the world of black magic and has been praised as a rare and exceptional work..."
The servant silently watching the unspeakable trickery: "..."
The gloom on Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's face immediately lifted.
Turning away from the television, he gazed out the window at the scenery beyond.
Just because he lost at writing novels, doesn't mean he couldn't make up for it in other ways.
He has money. He has influence. He has power. He has intelligence.
Why should he compete with people like them on the quality of their writing?
His experiences in Yokohama had taught him one undeniable truth:
Never compete with others where their strengths lie!
The Shibusawa family's butler approached with a platter of freshly cut fruit and said with a smile,
"Congratulations, Young Master Tatsuhiko!"
He had written a novel.
He had successfully secured a publishing contract.
And in the end, he had rightfully won first prize in the competition.
Rounding up, that meant—
His second requirement for becoming Akiya's disciple had been fulfilled!
The butler added,
"Happy birthday, Young Master Tatsuhiko."
Today was May 8.
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's eighteenth birthday.
He wanted to win.
The Shibusawa family would spare no effort to ensure that he did, hoping only that he would stop viewing the world with such cold detachment.
For Shibusawa Tatsuhiko is the Qilin whom the Shibusawa family had placed all its hopes on.
Monday arrived.
The adults went to work.
Edogawa Ranpo, meanwhile, was joyfully "on strike" at home, running around the house shouting at the top of his lungs while waving the novel that had won first prize.
"Fukuzawa-ossan! I won! First prize! First prize! Look! Hurry up and read what I wrote!"
Fukuzawa Yukichi had already read it twice.
A broad smile spread across his face, giving Ranpo an immense sense of satisfaction.
Edogawa Ranpo was trembling with excitement.
Akiya and Randou-san were at work.
Chuuya was at school.
The only person he could share his happiness with in person was Fukuzawa-ossan.
Otherwise, he might really have charged straight into the Port Mafia headquarters to find someone.
"No—I can't wait anymore! I'm going to find Chuuya! He doesn't even know yet!"
"Ranpo, Chuuya is in school."
"Then I'll go when classes are over!"
Just then, the television interrupted its regular programming with a special announcement.
Like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, the broadcast announced the winner of the full-length novel division.
Just as Edogawa Ranpo was about to head out the door, he froze.
He turned stiffly toward the television, his emerald-green eyes widening in disbelief.
Having been so well protected all his life, he had never imagined that society could be this... dark.
No.
What he had never imagined was that Shibusawa Tatsuhiko could be so utterly shameless.
He had underestimated the depths to which the man could sink.
"That's impossible!"
The black-haired boy jumped into the air with a shriek.
Not fully aware of the circumstances behind the award, Fukuzawa Yukichi asked,
"Is there something wrong with this prize?"
"The Seishun Award doesn't have separate categories for full-length novels and short stories!" Ranpo exclaimed.
Remaining impartial, Fukuzawa replied,
"It's possible they created a separate category internally to give full-length novels a better chance. We simply weren't informed."
"No! That's not it! That's not it!" Ranpo cried, on the verge of tears. "Akiya and the others are the judges!"
Fukuzawa looked surprised.
"Ranpo, if there had truly been fraud involved, Akiya-san wouldn't have stood by and allowed it. I believe he's a fair and principled man."
Ranpo grabbed Fukuzawa by the arm.
"Then let's go ask the organizers!"
A few hours later...
Fukuzawa Yukichi and Edogawa Ranpo received an official explanation.
In order to encourage more authors to devote themselves to literature, the Seishun Award had added a new category for full-length novels exceeding one hundred thousand words. There were very few submissions that met the requirement, but the first-place winner had earned the prize on merit. Its quality was considered exceptionally high.
Ranpo's hair practically stood on end.
"Cheating! He cheated!"
One of the organizers frowned in displeasure.
"On what grounds do you call it cheating? If you don't believe us, go read Black Magic Notebook yourself. It's already available in bookstores today."
Ranpo immediately rushed to a bookstore, snatched up a copy of the novel, tore off the wrapping, and began reading on the spot.
Fukuzawa quietly paid for the book.
With his astonishing reading speed, Ranpo finished the entire novel in no time at all.
At the same time...
He was forced to acknowledge one undeniable fact.
When it came to knowledge and literary craftsmanship, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko surpassed them all.
Besides, he had been required to write a commissioned novel based on a predetermined theme, which placed enormous restrictions on his subject matter.
Edogawa Ranpo sighed in defeat and looked pitifully at Fukuzawa Yukichi.
"Fukuzawa-ossan... his novel was actually pretty good..."
Fukuzawa Yukichi comforted him.
"Don't be discouraged. Let's go celebrate your victory instead."
Edogawa Ranpo crouched down miserably.
"My chest hurts..."
Fukuzawa Yukichi fell silent for a few seconds.
Then the white-haired "Silver Wolf" swordsman gently placed a hand on Ranpo's head and softly ruffled his hair.
"You won this time, and you won convincingly. Even your opponent has nothing to complain about."
"...!"
Edogawa Ranpo's face flushed bright red.
His spirits were instantly lifted.
That was such an incredibly positive thing to say!
He threw himself at Fukuzawa Yukichi, wrapping his arms around his guardian.
"Fukuzawa-ojisan is the best! Even better than Akiya!"
Fukuzawa Yukichi replied with perfect composure,
"I'll be sure to tell Akiya-san you said that."
Ranpo burst into cheerful laughter.
"Nooo~"
At Port Mafia headquarters, Ozaki Kouyou arrived at Asou Akiya's office, deliberately intending to surprise him.
"Akiya-san, the story I submitted won an award."
Akiya smiled knowingly.
"It was Three Wives, wasn't it?"
Kouyou looked astonished.
"I submitted that short story under a man's pen name. How did you know?"
"Because the writing style is so delicate," Akiya replied. "It feels just like Kouyou-kun."
He had never read the original world's Three Wives. It was an obscure work that likely wasn't widely circulated. But the fact that it had been refined enough to surpass even Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's short story was proof enough of its origins.
Its elegant, exquisitely polished prose, as graceful as a noble young lady herself, could only have come from the debut work of a literary master.
Most importantly—
Resting his chin on one hand, Asou Akiya said,
"Only the Seishun Award results were announced today. Among the winning entries, first place was a mystery novel, second place a realist story, third place an absurdist work, and fourth place a romance. There was also a full-length novel—which you definitely didn't have time to write."
He smiled.
"Based on how well I know you, I figured your submission had to be either the realist story or the romance. Unfortunately, I know the author of Cold Sorrow. I could tell at a glance that it wasn't yours."
Ozaki Kouyou quickly walked over and handed him her phone.
The screen confirmed her result.
"You guessed right. I won the Excellence Award for fourth place."
"Congratulations."
"Akiya-san," Ozaki Kouyou said with a bright smile, "I've discovered how enjoyable writing novels can be. This story was too short. Next time, I'll write an outstanding full-length novel for you to read."
The kimono-clad girl with orange-red hair looked at him confidently, her smile sweet and radiant.
Leaning back in his chair, Akiya replied,
"Then do your best in next year's Seishun Award!"
The future literary giants were still young.
Their potential was immense.
All he had to do was guide that boundless energy toward literature.
Every time he saw another masterpiece come into being, he felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.
That said...
A trace of puzzlement flickered across Asou Akiya's eyes.
Who exactly was the author of the third-place winner, "Dr. Wind"?
The writing style was still somewhat immature, while the story itself was thoroughly absurd. It revolved around five characters: Dr. Wind, his disciple, Dr. Octopus, Dr. Wind's ex-wife, and a seventeen-year-old bride.
Akiya had never read this novel in his previous life, and the author's pen name was equally unfamiliar.
Dark Self (暗吾, Anwu)?
Which literary giant had chosen that as a pen name?
Judging from the pronunciation, it sounded like "Ango."*
*{Note: In chinese, the pronunciation of 暗吾 sounds similar to 安吾 in Sakaguchi Ango's name. I shall translate that to "Anwu" from now on.}
Back in his previous life, he had read the profiles of most of the characters in Bungo Stray Dogs, memorizing both their real names and representative works. If this person hadn't existed, Ozaki Kouyou would have placed third, and Shibusawa Tatsuhiko would have finished fourth. There would have been no need to create a separate prize for full-length novels just so he could receive an award.
Tsk.
It looked like Shibusawa Tatsuhiko could no longer be called an honest man.
He had clearly arranged a backup plan for himself from the very beginning.
Soon afterward, Asou Akiya realized he had let his thoughts wander too far.
So what if the author of Dr. Wind really was Sakaguchi Ango?
So what if Shibusawa Tatsuhiko had lost his first literary competition?
In the future, more and more literary giants would join the ranks of writers, becoming members of Stewed Pigeon Publishing House.
And if anyone dared to go "coo coo coo"...
He'd stew every last one of them!
Looking at the jubilant Ozaki Kouyou before him, Akiya said with a subtle smile,
"Kouyou-kun, use this pen name from now on."
Her pen name Tokutarou—was the name she was born with in the original world. This strange burst of naming "inspiration" came from the way this world seemed to mirror his previous one.
It was fascinating.
It was as if he could see the places where the two worlds overlapped.
A radiance that belonged to him alone.
"All right," Ozaki Kouyou replied.
No one could have guessed that the third-place winner of the Seishun Award was, at that very moment, sleepily rubbing his eyes while sitting through class, completely unaware that he had won.
Inside the government-run Police Academy, Sakaguchi Ango was still preoccupied with the competition.
Ever since he had written that documentary-style report on Asou Akiya and Randou's romance, his passion for literary creation had become impossible to suppress. He was constantly struck by the urge to write stories.
Unfortunately, that urge usually vanished the instant before he actually put pen to paper.
Compared to writing novels, he would rather spend his time learning another foreign language.
The seniors had told him that one of the new recruitment requirements for the Special Division for Unusual Powers was proficiency in multiple foreign languages.
"Japanese, English... and now French too."
Sakaguchi Ango felt like he was going bald just thinking about it.
As he listened to the foreign language lesson, he absentmindedly copied beautiful poems he remembered in French. Immersing himself in literature chased away the tedium of studying.
In the end, inspired by those two, Sakaguchi Ango finally managed to squeeze out a short story titled "Dr. Wind" and secretly submitted it under the pen name "Anwu" .
Literature… It's truly captivating.