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Chapter 39: A New Laurier Swar Book
Orario was a city that thrived on rumors, but lately, nothing had gripped its underground gossip circles quite like the infamous "Best Female Adventurer for Rabbit Foot" Ranking. It was a fiercely contested popularity poll, debated in whispered tones across tavern tables and shadowy alleyways alike.
Standing at the absolute pinnacle of this illustrious list was the model for the absurdly popular, overwhelmingly sweet romance book featuring Bell Cranel. That reigning champion was none other than Laurier Swar—the Thirsty Elf who had boldly ambushed the author in person to demand her own fantasy be brought to life.
Despite her undisputed reign, however, a strange, creeping unease had been gnawing at her chest over the past few weeks.
The reason was simple: her magnificent throne at the number one spot was violently shaking, threatened by a terrifyingly specific group of women who had recently taken the underground market by storm.
Specifically, her fiercest rival was Ryuu Lion. The former Gale had skyrocketed to unprecedented fame through the explosive popularity of the Humiliating Wedding and Reverse Bunny concepts. Close behind her was the Sword Princess herself, Ais Wallenstein, who was now completely, irrevocably synonymous with the tantalizingly absurd Dangerous Minotaur series.
There were certainly other prominent women waiting in the wings to snatch the crown, but as it stood, Ryuu and Ais were fiercely battling it out for second place, chewing through the polls with monstrous momentum. If things continued at this pace, they wouldn't just steal Laurier's top ranking—they might ride that wave of cultural dominance to steal her precious Bell-kun in reality, too!
Driven by sheer, unadulterated panic, Laurier's feet carried her right back to a very familiar doorstep.
"Please, Sensei!! You have to make another book about me and Bell-kun!!!"
"Good grief. Are you playing Nobita-kun to my Doraemon?"
The door had practically been ripped off its hinges. Laurier burst into the author's dimly lit sanctum with teary eyes, dropping into a near-prostration on the ink-stained floor as she begged. Pressing a hand to my throbbing temples, I let out a deep, heavy sigh that carried the weight of a thousand unmet deadlines.
"Calm down first. Here, have some tea."
Accepting the ceramic teacup without a second thought, Laurier didn't even pause to savor the aroma. As if unwilling to waste a single precious second of negotiation time, she chugged the scalding tea in one massive gulp. Slamming the still-steaming cup onto the cluttered desk with a resounding clatter, she practically threw her head back down in a frantic, desperate bow.
"I'm begging you! Please draw another super-fluffy, lovey-dovey story about me and Bell-kun, just like the last one!! I need it to assert dominance!"
"Even if you say that, I'm completely out of material…" I groaned, leaning back in my creaking chair. "The Deep Floors Arc with the Juggernaut only worked so well because it organically featured Ryuu-san. The tension and life-or-death stakes made the romance pop. And the fallout with the Freya Familia after that… it's a bit too much of a stretch to force you into that narrative~. Ottar would probably cleave you in half before you even got within twenty paces of Bell-kun."
Laurier desperately clung to my sleeves, refusing to let go of the genius author currently wracking her brain. But no matter how much she begged or whimpered, I couldn't write a cohesive book without a solid plot.
If it were just a cheap, run-of-the-mill smut book, I could chain myself to the desk, ignore the lore, and squeeze out some generic, mindless scenario. But what this elf was demanding was an epic romantic masterpiece on par with our previous work. That previous bestseller had only been possible because I used the canonical storyline as a dramatic foundation. Building a narrative of that immense caliber from absolute scratch was a monumental task.
I tried to explain the delicate intricacies of narrative pacing and canon compliance to her, but Laurier refused to give up, passionately pleading for her delusional dream to become reality.
Her earnest desperation managed to tug at my heartstrings—just a tiny bit. Reluctantly, I picked up my favorite dip pen, tapping it against my chin as I began drafting concepts for a new work.
"If we're doing this, I'll need to pull from a completely different storyline. Were there any good events in DanMemo or DanChro…?"
Racking my brain, I sifted through the hazy memories of anniversary campaigns, casino events, and seasonal beach episodes from the gacha games of my past life, trying to wring out any usable material that could seamlessly fit a random elf.
Beside me, utterly useless when it came to actual storytelling, Laurier hovered over my shoulder and cheered me on. "You can do it! Do your best, Sensei~!"
She was undoubtedly trying her hardest to be supportive, but to the ears of a sleep-deprived smut author burdened with worldly desires and looming deadlines, it sounded less like genuine encouragement and more like the irritating, high-pitched teasing of a cheeky brat.
"Here, take this and go wait over there for a bit."
"Hyaah!!?"
Irritated by her so-called cheering, I quickly dashed my pen across a fresh sheet of paper. In a matter of minutes, working with the practiced speed of a seasoned professional, I sketched a single, highly detailed illustration: Bell looking down with incredibly gentle eyes, his fingers delicately lifting Laurier's chin as he leaned in to steal a sweet, tender kiss.
Tossing it to her like bait to a starving hound, I ordered her to wait in the corner of the room.
Upon seeing the finished drawing, Laurier gasped. She flushed beet-red like an innocent maiden, slapping both hands over her face as steam practically erupted from her pointed ears. She eagerly scrambled after the casually discarded drawing, snatching it off the floor and clutching it tightly against her chest. Just as instructed, she retreated to the far side of the room, completely absorbed in her newly acquired treasure and utterly pacified.
Finally, some peace and quiet. Settling back into my chair, I focused entirely on brainstorming. But no matter what scenario I came up with, none of them felt interesting enough. Forcefully inserting Laurier—a character who fundamentally shouldn't exist in those major, world-shaking plots—just made the narrative feel clunky and contrived.
"Hmm… but if I exclude the canon timelines, the only things left are collaboration events—"
Zap. In that exact instant, an electric current ran through the woman.
My eyes snapped wide open. By the very next second, my posture shifted, and I was frantically scribbling down the brilliant, earth-shattering inspiration that had just sparked in the darkest recesses of my mind.
All traces of my previous writer's block vanished into the ether. With my eyes practically glowing with feverish excitement, my pen tore across the paper—not merely gliding, but furiously carving the revolutionary ideas into the pages.
"Fufufu… that's it! Why should I limit myself strictly to original concepts or the canon DanMachi universe? If I just do a crossover with a completely different franchise and weave its entirely foreign lore and characters into the mix, I'll have an infinite well of material to draw from! It's the ultimate narrative loophole!"
The sudden avalanche of inspiration refused to stop. My brain went into absolute overdrive, plot threads and character interactions flooding my mind like a bursting dam. The creative well that had been bone-dry just moments ago was now overflowing with such violent intensity that my notepad was practically screaming for mercy under the relentless assault of my pen.
And within her mind, a brand-new, spectacularly cohesive storyline had already begun to take shape.
Once the gears of a god-tier author started turning, there was no hitting the brakes. I slammed my hands on the desk and called back Laurier, who jolted from her corner.
Plunging into an all-nighter reminiscent of our previous, legendary endeavor—no, surviving six grueling, coffee-fueled all-nighters this time—the two of us charged headfirst through the untamed wilderness of creation. Navigating through mountains of crumpled drafts and empty ink bottles, we ultimately stepped foot into an entirely new literary frontier.
One week later.
As the gentle, golden rays of the morning sun filtered through the dusty windowpanes of the room, the two of us finally collapsed onto the floor, our physical energy and very souls utterly drained.
Resting on the desk beside our exhausted hands were two freshly bound, completed manuscripts. They were books that, without a single shadow of a doubt, would soon plunge the entirety of Orario into a brand-new, inescapable whirlwind of chaos, jealousy, and gossip.
Amidst the quiet stillness of the room, bathing in the warm morning light, the blue, gelatinous Slime drawn meticulously on the covers of the two books seemed to give off a faint, ethereal glow—as if silently prophesying the gloriously absurd future that was about to unfold.
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