6-10

Chapter 6: The Night in Akihabara 

“So, I was wondering if we could start work a day later.” 

Asking for time off on the first day of work would get you chewed out anywhere, right? Especially at the start of a project. But the shop manager helped me when I was in a bind, and I can’t just walk away selfishly. 

Torn and anxious, Sayoko Kawai was surprised to find a flicker of… anticipation rising within her. Will he punish me like before? Will I have to do a dogeza? 

Her throat tightened, and she kept her head lowered, fingers clenching slightly on her fair knees. She avoided Fuyukawa Tetsu’s gaze, looking every bit like a guilty schoolgirl—except this schoolgirl had a strikingly curvaceous figure. 

Tetsu, unaware of her thoughts, only noticed the green numbers flashing above her head. What’s this woman thinking? He didn’t dwell on it. “Fine, but just one day.” 

+100. 

+300. 

Huh? 

Tetsu blinked at the shifting text—red, then green. Disappointment, then joy? He could understand her being happy about his leniency, but what was the disappointment about? It didn’t make sense, but it didn’t matter much either. Her overall favorability was rising, so he was on the right track. 

With business settled, Tetsu didn’t leave right away. He ordered two more juices, and they chatted, mostly about Fate. Sayoko was clearly passionate about the project, her words flowing freely as she shared her ideas for artwork. Tetsu, drawing on memories from his previous life, offered pointers—like Saber’s iconic ahoge, Gilgamesh’s haughty demeanor, or Sakura’s design. 

Sayoko, ever the professional, pulled out her tablet and smart glasses from her bag. She adjusted the glasses with her index finger, looking like a reporter as she jotted down notes, occasionally glancing up to ask questions. 

She cautiously probed about how Tetsu came up with the Fate script. He was ready for that. While he wasn’t the original creator and couldn’t know Kinoko Nasu’s mindset when crafting Fate, he didn’t have some lofty “I’m promoting a masterpiece from another world” attitude. As someone who loved games, movies, and music—and had worked in the gaming industry in his past life—Tetsu didn’t treat the Fate dataset as just a product to copy and cash in on. 

He was genuinely curious about how a work as soulful as Fate was created. If possible, he wanted to make something just as iconic someday. He’d meticulously studied the entire dataset—notes, drafts, meeting logs, everything labeled as “miscellaneous.” While he couldn’t fully recreate the original author’s mindset, he had a deep desire to discuss Fate’s core, its brilliance, its story. To his surprise, Sayoko shared that passion. 

When discussing business, she was cautious and refined, but when it came to the plot and characters’ fates, she relaxed completely. Her eyes sparkled with admiration, giving her a youthful charm that contrasted with her mature, curvaceous figure. 

Sipping juice and sharing a fruit platter, they hit it off, their conversation flowing from business to story, from story to character designs, and then to the issue of rating. 

Yes, the rating. 

Fate was a global juggernaut, but in Japan, the original game carried a Z rating—essentially 18+. It included “mana transfer” scenes and domestic moments not found in the anime. Z-rated works couldn’t be sold to anyone under 18, and violations came with hefty fines. They briefly discussed whether to tone down the gore, violence, or intimate scenes to aim for a C rating (15+), but the topic fizzled quickly. Neither Tetsu nor Sayoko wanted to compromise the game’s integrity for market appeal. 

As their conversation deepened, Tetsu noticed a new kind of smile on Sayoko’s face—one that went beyond “subordinate to boss,” beyond “needing a favor,” beyond even attraction. It was genuine and warm. 

But happy moments are fleeting. As the night outside grew darker, Sayoko’s phone buzzed. She was mid-laugh, twirling her straw, when she glanced at the screen. Her expression shifted. “Seven forty-three?! I’ve got to get to my part-time job!” 

She reached for her bag but froze halfway, realizing how rude it might seem to bolt in front of her boss. Meeting Tetsu’s amused gaze, she settled back, head lowered, and asked softly, “Tetsu-kun, is it okay if I go?” 

What an interesting woman. 

Initially, Tetsu had seen their relationship as purely professional. Even when she showed hints of flirtation, his thoughts leaned toward desire or control. But now, looking at this woman who shared his passion and carried a touch of endearing obedience, he felt something shift. Grabbing his car keys, he smiled. “Go ahead. You seem in a rush—need a ride?” 

+1000! 

Sayoko’s face lit up, her eyes brimming with something like fulfillment. But as she looked at Tetsu’s youthful face, her bright gaze dimmed slightly, and the corner of her mouth—marked by that beauty mole—curved into a strained smile. “No need to trouble you, Tetsu-kun. The subway’s quick enough.” 

“Alright then. Waiter, the bill.” 

The upscale wagyu restaurant wasn’t cheap, and since Tetsu could convert expenses into points, he’d ordered generously. The bill came to over 30,000 yen, making Sayoko’s eyes widen. That’s half a month’s rent! She thought, What a spendthrift! 

She shot a playful eye-roll at Tetsu’s straight-backed figure, pouting slightly, but no red numbers signaling a drop in favorability appeared above her head. Emotions, it seemed, didn’t always follow logic. 

Oblivious to her shift in mood, Tetsu paid and stepped outside, immediately hit by the vibrant energy of Akihabara at 8 p.m. Neon signs lit up the streets, cars and crowds bustling. Young women in maid outfits handed out flyers, street performers sang energetically, and people in mascot costumes playfully waved signs. 

“This world doesn’t have Genshin Impact,” Tetsu mused, recalling the cosplayers and fan events from his old life. A pang of loneliness flickered in his eyes as he scanned the lively street. 

He didn’t notice Sayoko, trailing a few steps behind, pursing her lips. It wasn’t just the atmosphere—it was the maids and “kami-machi” girls (those waiting for patrons to “feed” them) swarming the streets. Tetsu cut a striking figure: tall, handsome, and polished from years at NTsoft. Combined with a lingering air of detachment from this world, he stood out like a beacon. Maids practically shoved flyers into his chest, and bolder kami-machi girls trailed him, fishing for his contact info. 

So annoying, Sayoko thought, her eyes narrowing. She quickened her pace to walk closer to him but hesitated when she saw the youthful, eager faces around them. Her steps slowed, a tremor of self-doubt running through her. Then Tetsu stopped, waiting for her to catch up. 

“Want some bubble tea?” he asked, standing under the neon glow of a shop. 

Sayoko’s eyes trembled, her lips—marked by that beauty mole—faltering before curling into a shaky smile. “...Sure! Thanks, Tetsu-kun.” 

“No problem. What’ll you have?” 

“Boba milk tea, three-quarters sugar.” 

“...Suits you.” 

“!” 

Chapter 7: Skill Imprinting 

The sky is a tapestry of stars, the night curtain hanging low. 

In a quiet alley lit only by moonlight and punctuated by the occasional bark of a dog, a clock ticks past 8:30 p.m. 

A black Volkswagen pulls into the parking lot of a house marked with the nameplate “Fuyukawa Family.” Fuyukawa Tetsu steps out, greeted by a two-story red-roofed house, modest yet charming, occupying about 80 square meters with a small yard adding another 40. This is the ancestral home of the Fuyukawa family, a classic Japanese ikkodate—a standalone house on privately owned land. 

In Japan, owning land means freedom to build as you please, within safety regulations, and pass it down through generations. Most importantly, there’s no shared building area to worry about. No common spaces eating into your square footage. So, even at just 80 square meters, when Tetsu opens the door, the house feels surprisingly spacious. 

But it’s also… lonely. 

Click. 

The lights flicker on, revealing neatly arranged furniture in an otherwise sparse room. Empty beer cans are stacked in a corner, a silent testament to solitude. 

Tetsu doesn’t like this vibe. 

He flips on every light in the house, settles into the living room with its kotatsu table, and turns on the TV. The cheerful voice of a news anchor fills the space, chasing away some of the gloom. As he sheds his clothes and steps into the bathroom, he sinks into the bathtub. 

Splish-splash. 

Warm water pours from two faucets, cascading over his shoulders. Tetsu lies back, the day’s confident and commanding demeanor gone from his eyes. They’re empty now, staring blankly at the ceiling as water pools at the bottom of the tub, creeping up his thighs. 

“You’re here now, so make peace with it. Stop overthinking.” 

It’s only when the water reaches his chest, pressing against him with its warmth, that he lets out a long breath and slides deeper, relaxing. 

Truth be told, the first two days after transmigrating were more thrilling than terrifying. Crossing into a new world, equipped with a system? It felt like the start of a journey to the peak of life. 

But after those initial days, feelings of loneliness and confusion began to creep in, eroding his excitement. 

A foreign country, an unfamiliar city, no one to care about, and no one who cares about him. The experiences of his past life have vanished like a fleeting dream. 

Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly? Or a butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi? 

Or maybe just a nap on a summer afternoon? 

He hasn’t slept well for two days. Last night, it took alcohol to knock him out. 

It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one Tetsu doesn’t like. But he’s resilient. His past life, far from perfect, sharpened him into someone who can heal himself. He’s confident he can overcome this. 

He thought it’d take time to adjust, but— 

The memory of Sayako Kawai’s parting smile as she stepped onto the subway platform flickers in his mind. Tetsu’s expression grows complicated. He slides further into the tub, water lapping just below his nose. 

After a moment, he sits up, grabs a towel to dry his hands, and picks up the tablet from the nearby ledge. Opening the “Fate” folder, he summons the system interface. 

[Skill Imprinting Scroll Used: Target - Sayako Kawai] 

[Imprinted Skill: Intermediate Scene Illustration Lv5] 

Before seeing Sayako off at the subway, he used the [Skill Imprinting Scroll] the system gave him. Sayako has three skills: Intermediate Character Illustration Lv9, Intermediate Scene Illustration Lv5, and Advanced Cooking. Cooking was an instant no-go, and since Sayako specializes in character CGs, he chose to imprint [Intermediate Scene Illustration]. 

“Sayako’s character illustration is at Intermediate Lv9, which is solid, but for a galgame, the two most critical elements are characters and story.” 

Normally, Sayako’s skills wouldn’t be enough to carry a project like Fate, especially with just the two of them on the team. During their earlier chat, she’d admitted to feeling “not confident enough.” But— 

“She’s been working as an illustrator since graduating university, over a decade now. I’ve seen her art—her fundamentals are rock-solid, even comparable to some top artists. The main reason she hasn’t broken through? Her emotions don’t pop.” 

Tetsu sighs softly. 

To him, art is art because it strikes the soul. It’s a conversation between spirits. But Sayako’s personality is too… restrained. She’s like someone bundled up in a thick down jacket, hiding herself. 

Sure, she lights up when talking about Fate, but otherwise, she’s guarded. 

“She has potential but doesn’t dare let it loose.” 

“Now that she’s warming up to me, if I play my cards right, I can guide her forward.” 

Play my cards right. 

With that thought, Tetsu’s gaze lands on the [Skill Upgrade Scroll]. After a moment’s consideration, he drags the scroll onto [Intermediate Scene Illustration] in the system interface. 

[Skill Upgrade Successful] 

[Intermediate Scene Illustration → Advanced Scene Illustration] 

[Note: Skills provide theoretical knowledge and intuition. Practical skills require hands-on practice to fully master; theoretical skills benefit from deep understanding and application.] 

The moment the notification appears, a blinding light floods Tetsu’s vision. His mind buzzes as countless books materialize before him, pages flipping in an invisible breeze. Words and lines leap from the pages, pouring into his wide, dark eyes. 

Siphon! 

It’s like his soul is siphoning an ocean of text and lines, flooding into his gaze. After what feels like an eternity, the last of the characters and lines are absorbed. Tetsu’s tense muscles finally relax. 

“Even with the system, this kind of info-dump is rough,” he mutters, rubbing his aching temples. But seeing [Advanced Scene Illustration] on the system interface, a smile creeps into his eyes. “Worth it.” 

For a small-scale galgame, one artist typically handles everything—scene illustration, character designs, UI—to ensure a cohesive aesthetic. But Sayako’s current work, while technically proficient, lacks a distinct style or emotional punch. 

To put it simply: in the manga world, some art is polished, with gorgeous characters and great proportions, but it lacks vibe or impact. Especially in key scenes, overly realistic art can fail to evoke that “I’m freaking hyped!” feeling. 

Her fundamentals are strong, but she’s too by-the-book, unable to stir the viewer’s emotions. 

In simpler terms, she lacks stream-of-consciousness—or rather, she’s afraid to pour her emotions into her work or let her instincts guide her brush. 

It’s a fatal flaw. 

Take Togashi-sensei, for example. In Hunter x Hunter’s Chimera Ant arc, the scenes of the Ant King playing chess with Komugi are just dialogue. Black panels, no narration, only words. 

It’s an unconventional approach, yet when the scene finally brightens, revealing the Ant King dying in Komugi’s arms, the impact hits like a meteor, lingering endlessly. 

That’s the power of stream-of-consciousness. 

Togashi pulls readers into his mind. Tetsu’s goal is to pull Sayako into his—to guide the timid Sayako into following his emotional lead. 

His tools? Backgrounds, story, and music. 

He’ll craft the entire setting, weave in the narrative, and layer it with music. Build the stage, set the mood, and let Sayako forget herself, fully immersing in the world of Fate that he’s created. 

“‘Lose your shame, and in front of me, you can bare everything.’ Why does this plot feel so familiar?” 

Flashes of certain steamy films cross his mind, and Tetsu scratches his cheek awkwardly. 

Chapter 8: A Morning Encounter 

Sayoko Kawai is someone who needs guidance, but to lead others, you first have to be strong yourself. 

Tapping his cheek, Fuyukawa Tetsu, who had just acquired [Advanced Scene Illustration], didn’t dwell on it. With his arms resting on the sides of the bathtub, he grabbed his Pencil and started sketching on his tablet. 

[Advanced Scene Illustration] was a practical skill. Even with all the theoretical knowledge and instincts downloaded into him, he still needed plenty of practice to get the hang of it. 

It wasn’t hard. 

It felt like picking up a game he’d aced years ago. At first, the updated versions might throw him off, but the core mechanics were already ingrained in his body and mind. His muscle memory was there, and he picked up new information fast. 

Soaking in the tub, he sketched away. 

Scene Illustration Experience: +1, +3, +2, +1, +5, +10, +12 

Arm Strength: +0.00001, +0.00002 

Notifications floated across his system panel, but Tetsu, completely absorbed in his drawing, didn’t notice. He just kept sketching, kept thinking. 

Time slipped by. The bathroom, the room, the entire Fuyukawa household was filled only with the faint tapping of the stylus on the screen. 

The neighbor’s little white dog yawned and shuffled back to its kennel. The TV in the living room switched from a female anchor to late-night anime. The steam in the bathroom dissipated, and wrinkles appeared on Tetsu’s skin. Only then did he set the tablet down, rubbing his sore arm. 

“Midnight? I soaked for three hours?” 

Swiping to close the app, Tetsu realized it was 11:58 PM. 

Time flew, but so did his skill progress. 

[Intermediate Scene Illustration Lv9, 73% EXP] 

“With a foundation, progress is fast. Still a bit mentally draining, though. I’m about 20% away from Advanced Scene Illustration. I’ll slack off a bit at work tomorrow morning and get there.” 

It was late. 

Splash. 

His heavy body rose from the water. 

Living alone was lonely, sure, but it also meant total freedom. 

It was the height of summer, and with no one else home, Tetsu didn’t bother with pajamas. He dried off with a towel, slung it over his shoulder, and sauntered back to his bedroom. 

“Good morning, Section Chief Fuyukawa.” 

“Morning, Miss Hatano.” 

The next morning, Tetsu strode into NTsoft’s office building, sharp in his black suit, greeted by the receptionist’s cheerful voice. 

Technically, Tetsu was the team leader of Light Bird Studio, but within the company, his official title was Section Chief. It was the lowest rung of management, so other teams and departments just called him “Section Chief.” It’s like how no one calls a deputy manager “Deputy Manager” to their face—they just say “Manager.” 

Within his team, though, people like Sayoko called him “Team Leader.” 

Smiling and nodding to the receptionist, Tetsu stepped into the elevator to head upstairs. Just then, the rapid clack-clack-clack of high heels echoed outside. 

“Team Leader Fuyukawa, please hold the door!” 

A familiar voice hit his ears. Tetsu pressed the “open” button, and two seconds later, two bouncing white grapefruits caught his eye first. 

“Thank you, Team Leader!”  

Sayoko Kawai, dressed in a black-and-white OL uniform, hurried into the elevator. 

She’d done her makeup delicately today, her skin looking soft and radiant without being greasy. Her hair was pinned up, revealing a charming, fox-like face that felt refreshingly polished.  

Clutching her handbag, she patted her ample chest, catching her breath. 

Tetsu released the elevator button and chuckled. “There’s still time before work starts. No need to rush.” 

As the doors slid shut, Sayoko glanced outside cautiously. Seeing no one else coming, she let out a long breath and turned to Tetsu, sticking out her tongue. “It’s not that. I saw Minister Miyano getting out of her car when I came in. No way I’m riding the elevator with her.” 

Minister Miyano? 

Miyano Mitei? 

An image flashed in Tetsu’s mind: a sultry, glamorous woman with a cold, bewitching aura, exuding the terrifying presence of a venomous snake. 

“Minister Miyano’s vibe is intense, no doubt,” Tetsu nodded. 

Sayoko tucked her handbag under her arm. “Right? Super scary. Oh, by the way, Team Leader, did you rest well last night?” 

“Decent. You?” 

“Ugh, I was up late with a side gig. Oh, good morning, Section Chief Hase!” 

After yesterday’s talk, Sayoko was getting chattier. But just as she was about to say more, the elevator reached the second floor, and an older woman stepped in. 

Tension. 

Sayoko clammed up, gave a respectful bow to Section Chief Hase, and turned to face the elevator doors obediently. 

Honestly, an elevator with just two familiar people isn’t awkward. The awkwardness comes when a stranger—especially a senior leader—joins. 

Sayoko didn’t dare speak anymore, clutching her handbag in front of her. But soon, she noticed something even more uncomfortable. 

She was standing near the elevator buttons, facing the doors, with Tetsu right behind her. 

Is he watching me? 

A hot gaze seemed to roll down her back, giving her goosebumps. Her eyes misted with nervous energy, and she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. But, almost instinctively, she arched her back slightly, accentuating her curves. 

+50, +50, +50 

What’s this woman doing? 

Truthfully, Tetsu hadn’t noticed her subtle movements. He was still mulling over [Advanced Scene Illustration] knowledge. But the green numbers popping up above Sayoko’s head definitely caught his attention. 

Glancing at her curvaceous silhouette, the overwhelming presence of her peaches, and her slightly flushed ears adorned with crystal earrings, Tetsu’s expression turned odd. Before he could think too much, the elevator hit the third floor, and a crowd of employees poured in. 

“Good morning, Section Chief Hase, Section Chief Fuyukawa.” 

“Ugh, why does our department have a meeting first thing in the morning?” 

“Seriously, and it’s on the seventh floor. I was planning to hit the bathroom first.” 

The elevator filled with chatter. A few veteran employees didn’t care about decorum, grumbling about the early meeting. 

Tetsu didn’t care about other departments’ schedules, but he felt a warm, soft presence against him and instinctively leaned back slightly. 

“Sorry, Team Leader, I’m crowding you.” 

Pushed by the crowd, Sayoko’s back pressed fully against Tetsu. Her face flushed red, and she clutched her handbag, whispering an apology against his chest. 

Her voice was soft as a mosquito’s hum, her face shy and embarrassed. Yet, the green emotion value numbers kept rising above her head. Her body was tense, muscles tight, but she made no move to pull away. 

Coincidentally, Tetsu didn’t mind. 

“It’s fine. We’re almost there,” he whispered back, his breath grazing her ear. 

She shivered slightly at the warmth. 

Chapter 9: A Little Thirsty 

“Ahh—” 

A warm breath grazed her ear, sending a shiver through Kawauchi Sayoko’s body. A pink flush shimmered in her eyes as her slender hands instinctively tightened around the handbag clutched to her chest. 

“Too fast.” 

+200. 

A massive number floated above her head. At that moment, the elevator doors slid open. 

Like she was escaping, she squeezed out of the elevator. But instead of hurrying into the office, she stood there, hands gripping her handbag, and turned to look at Fuyukawa Tetsu, who was stepping out behind her. 

The elevator had felt a little charged, the air thick with something unspoken. 

Breathing in the fresh air and watching Fuyukawa Tetsu shake out his suit jacket, a shy smile crept onto her flushed face. “S-sorry, Team Leader. It was… a bit crowded in there.” 

“No worries. Let’s get to work.” 

Fuyukawa Tetsu casually ruffled her hair, oblivious to the flicker of satisfaction in her smile. He adjusted his tie and strode toward the office door marked Hikari Bird Studio. 

Hikari Bird Studio was technically a game development team under NTsoft, but it was a small one. Including Kawauchi Sayoko and Fuyukawa Tetsu, there were only five members. 

This was largely because Hikari Bird Studio focused on interactive narrative games. 

This genre was incredibly niche, with almost no breakout hits to its name. Naturally, the budget and resources allocated to it were modest. That’s why someone like Fuyukawa Tetsu, with just four or five years of work experience, could become team leader. Most managers at his level preferred staying as deputies on bigger projects rather than “exiling” themselves to a small studio like this. To lead a studio, you’d typically need to be in upper management. 

NTsoft had created Hikari Bird Studio because the Galgame market was showing signs of a revival. 

The company had noticed the emotional needs of male players but lacked experience in making Galgames. Competing with established companies in that space was tough, so they decided to try carving out a niche with interactive narrative games. 

It was a low-stakes experiment. The development budget was small, and the team—aside from Fuyukawa Tetsu, a young elite sent to cut his teeth—was mostly made up of “scraps” like Kawauchi Sayoko, employees with little upward mobility. 

Fuyukawa Tetsu knew full well that the company had assigned Sayoko, an older employee who hadn’t “progressed” in years, to this team partly to justify transferring her out of headquarters later. 

It was brutal, but that’s how companies worked. 

“Good morning, Team Leader Fuyukawa.” 

“Morning, boss.” 

As Fuyukawa Tetsu pushed open the door, the few employees inside stood up, greeting him respectfully with ingratiating smiles. 

It was obvious they knew their positions were precarious—one wrong move, and they could lose their jobs. 

“Morning, everyone.” 

With a casual wave, Fuyukawa Tetsu opened the door to his small office cubicle. 

“Team Leader Fuyukawa’s as sharp as ever. Tsk tsk, becoming a section chief at a big company at just 25? His future’s limitless,” said a chubby middle-aged man near the water cooler, his eyes gleaming with admiration. 

Next to him, a plainly dressed woman in her forties nodded. “Yeah, normally it takes at least ten years to climb to section chief, but he did it in less than five. The higher-ups really value talent like him. But…” 

She trailed off, her face clouding with worry. “I wonder if the boss has decided what kind of game we’re making. If we keep dragging this out, the next meeting’s gonna be rough. Oh, Sayoko-san, you’re here.” 

Kawauchi Sayoko, who’d just set her handbag on her desk, was tying her hair back with a hairband while looking in a mirror. She mumbled through the hairband, “Nogi-san, Kawaguchi-san, you guys got here early.” 

“Got lucky this morning and caught the subway on time,” the chubby Nogi replied. 

Glancing at Sayoko’s slightly flushed face and then at the closed blinds of Fuyukawa’s cubicle, Nogi sipped her hot water. “Sayoko-san, did you just come up in the elevator with the boss?” 

“Y-yeah, why?” 

Did someone notice what happened in the elevator? 

Her heart skipped a beat. Like a thief caught in the act, Sayoko tied her hair back, puffing out her chest defensively as she eyed Nogi warily. But the chubby woman leaned in conspiratorially, whispering, “Did you hear any rumors?” 

“Huh?” 

“Oh, come on, dummy. Like what game our team’s gonna make! This is a big deal for our future.” 

Nogi’s face was etched with worry, and Sayoko blinked in realization. 

Oh! We talked so much about Fate last night that I totally forgot about work stuff. 

But with Tetsu-kun’s skills, making a story-driven game like this should be a breeze, right? 

Sayoko smiled. “Don’t worry, Team Leader Fuyukawa will figure it out.” 

“I hope so, or we’re in trouble. Oh, by the way, Dogen Department Store’s holding a huge clearance sale this weekend. Wanna go?” 

“Clearance sale?! Which one…” 

The mention of a mall discount lit Sayoko up. She applied sweet-smelling hand cream, eagerly diving into the conversation. 

The office atmosphere wasn’t exactly serious, and Fuyukawa Tetsu noticed but didn’t mind. 

The team had been formed, but since he hadn’t submitted a project proposal yet, Hikari Bird Studio was still in the pre-production phase with a light workload. 

With so little to do, he saw no need to act like some brain-dead manager forcing his team to fake “hard work.” Still… 

“I really need to get that proposal submitted soon.” 

Fuyukawa Tetsu typed away at his computer, lines of text reflected in his eyes. The document’s title page boldly read: Love Is All Around! 

Last night’s dinner with Sayoko cost him 30,000 yen, leaving him about 200,000 short of the 500,000 consumption points needed. That amount was just right for a top-spec iPad Pro. 

His current tablet was three or four years old, so he didn’t hesitate to place the order. 

The app showed the iPad Pro was still in transit, but Love Is All Around had already been redeemed. 

“In my previous world, the production cost for this game was around 5 million RMB, roughly 100 million yen.” 

“That’s more than what I discussed with the department head, but the biggest expense for this game is the actors’ salaries.” 

His fingers danced across the keyboard as his mind churned. 

Interactive narrative games like this weren’t heavy on gameplay—just a few UI interfaces. The bulk was in filming. But the game’s success hinged on whether the actresses they cast were captivating enough. 

Some casual players claimed the game only blew up because of marketing, but a game with a 5-million-RMB budget couldn’t afford a big marketing push. 

A 5-million-RMB budget barely qualified as mid-tier in the gaming world. 

With such a modest investment, the backers clearly weren’t banking on the game initially, so they wouldn’t have poured money into marketing. 

It’s simple logic: would you pair a 4,000-yen graphics card with a 10,000- or 20,000-yen power supply? 

Love Is All Around broke through because of “Hao Hao’s Mom,” a character who carried the game’s early hype. Players organically spread memes like “I just want to give Hao Hao a home” or “If you don’t nerf Hao Hao’s Mom, how can anyone play the other routes?” 

Memes have incredible viral power. As the player base grew and the game’s popularity spiked, investors caught wind and pumped in more money, amplifying the breakout effect. 

It was a clear cause-and-effect chain, but the foundation was this: the game needed a female character compelling enough to spark player discussion. 

“Based on our market research, Tokyo’s male players from 2000 to 2005 are generally more drawn to tags like ‘married women,’ ‘widows,’ and ‘mature women’—which perfectly align with Hao Hao’s Mom’s traits.” 

“Hmm, we need to launch with Hao Hao’s Mom as the centerpiece. The actress for this role has to be perfect, and we can’t skimp on the budget. But who to pick?” 

Fuyukawa Tetsu opened another program on his screen. 

Instantly, a flood of actress photos filled his view—current stars, retired ones, even amateurs. 

All sorts of beautiful women bombarded his eyes, each with their agency and contact info listed below. 

Without much hesitation, he typed “mature women” into the tag filter. Just then, a knock came at the door. 

“Come in.” 

“Team Leader Fuyukawa, I brewed you some barley tea.” 

Click-clack. 

Dressed in an OL uniform and high heels, Kawauchi Sayoko swayed in with a teapot in hand. 

“Alright, set it here.” 

His right middle finger scrolled the mouse, fully engrossed in browsing actresses. Fuyukawa Tetsu didn’t notice her approach, his eyes glued to the parade of women on his screen. 

For the studio’s future, Tetsu-kun’s working so hard. 

Carrying the teapot to his desk, Sayoko’s heart swelled with admiration as she watched his focused expression. But as she deliberately leaned forward to place the teapot, her unbuttoned blouse revealing a hint of depth, her eyes caught a glimpse of the “mature women” images on his screen. Her eyes widened in shock. 

This is…?! 

Tetsu-kun’s looking at this stuff during work hours?! 

Oh my gosh, this is… this is… 

-100. 

+300! 

Like she’d been electrocuted, Sayoko, fearing she’d be scolded for peeking at her boss’s secrets, quickly straightened up. After the initial shock, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quickened, and her glossy eyes flicked to Fuyukawa Tetsu’s tailored suit pants. 

Is he really that thirsty? 

Chapter 10: Choosing Actresses 

“Anything else?” 

Tetsu’s eyes flicked across a series of photos of mature women, occasionally clicking to check their measurements, resumes, and casual snapshots. Feeling a bit parched, he reached for the barley tea on his desk, only then noticing that Sayoko Kawai, who had brought the tea, hadn’t left.  

His gaze lifted, passing over her pronounced curves as he shifted fully into work mode, a puzzled expression crossing his face. 

“Oh! No, no, I just wanted to thank you again for treating me to dinner last night and giving me this opportunity,” Sayoko said, bowing respectfully. Through the dip of her black blazer, the lace trim of her white blouse peeked out. 

The curve was enticing, but Tetsu was too focused on work to entertain thoughts of flirting with his subordinate. Rolling his neck, he adjusted the rimless glasses perched on his nose and scrolled the mouse wheel, not looking up. “No need to repeat yourself. We’re on the same team.” 

“Right, right! Sayoko understands,” she replied quickly. 

A hardworking, considerate guy… Wait a second!  

Her eyes, bright as autumn water, curved into crescents as she looked at Tetsu, who exuded an air of polished professionalism. But then, recalling the photos of mature women he’d been reviewing, her expression froze, almost comically, like a chibi character turning to stone. 

Tetsu-kun’s in his twenties, single, and after what happened in the elevator, it’s normal for him to have… urges, right? she thought. And it seems he’s into older women? So maybe I— 

-100. 

+2000. 

Her emotions were all over the place! Sayoko’s face flushed so deeply it seemed steam might pour from her ears. At that moment, Tetsu pointed at the screen. “Since you’re here, help me take a look at this woman.” 

This woman?! He’s asking me to look at her with him?! In the office?! 

Red steam practically billowed from her head, as if she’d unlocked some forbidden power. Her cute yet alluring face burned crimson, her mind racing to strange places. 

+1000, -1000, +1000, -1000. 

What’s up with her? 

Tetsu raised an eyebrow at the wild numbers flashing above her head. “You okay?” 

“N-No, I’m fine! I’ll come take a look,” she stammered, her flushed face dipping as she shuffled to his side. 

“This is Yukino Ooyuki, 31 years old, a graduate of an arts university. She debuted as an idol and starred in the thriller The Terrifying Wife. She’s 173 cm tall, measurements 87-61-84. Her specialties are dancing—she’s quite flexible—and she’s a decent singer. What’s your first impression of her?” 

“Huh?” 

Oh, he’s picking actresses. 

Listening to Tetsu ramble and seeing the undeniably sexy but modestly dressed woman on the screen, Sayoko froze. Her wide, embarrassed eyes brimmed with guilt as her flushed cheeks betrayed her earlier misunderstanding. 

+1000. 

Tetsu sighed. “Huh? Are you even listening?” 

“Sorry! So sorry!” Sayoko bowed repeatedly, her face still red as she leaned closer to the monitor. After a moment, she said softly, “She’s very pretty, with an amazing figure. Her vibe is a bit cool, like a refined, aloof older sister. She’d fit the ‘sexy housewife’ or ‘older woman, younger man’ roles from the brief perfectly.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” Tetsu nodded. “But I’ve got a few others I think are solid too.” He stood, leaning over to click red checkmarks on several other women’s profiles. “Contact their agents and put together a spreadsheet with their fees and schedules.” 

“Got it! Just give me a moment to grab my laptop—” 

“No need, just use my computer.” 

“Oh, okay. Leave it to me!”  

Caught off guard by his arrangement, Sayoko hesitated but quickly slipped into professional mode. She’d been in the workforce for over a decade, after all. She settled into Tetsu’s chair, her hips shifting in the tight skirt and black stockings. The seat was still warm. 

A faint heat seeped through her clothes, making her cheeks flush again. 

+200. 

Green numbers floated above her head as Tetsu added, “Focus, alright? I’ve got a meeting with the department head this afternoon, and you’re coming with me. We might need the actress info.” 

“The department head?!” Sayoko’s eyes widened, her heart racing from the lingering warmth of the chair and now this. 

-100. 

+1000! 

Her gaze shifted from shock to a soft warmth as she looked at Tetsu. At NTsoft, she was a marginal figure, on the brink of being laid off. But as a veteran employee, getting face time with someone as high up as the department head could be a game-changer for her career, even if it wasn’t a guaranteed save. 

“I understand, Tetsu-kun! Leave it to me! Thank you, really, thank you!” Sayoko shot up, bowing a full ninety degrees, her face brimming with gratitude. 

“No need to overdo it,” Tetsu said with a smile. “And drop the formal ‘you.’ I like it when you call me Tetsu-kun.” 

“Yes! Got it! I won’t let you—er, Tetsu-kun—down!”  

This guy… 

Watching her excitement mixed with a hint of shyness, Tetsu chuckled, shaking his head. He gave her bowed head a gentle pat before settling onto the nearby sofa with his tablet, turning his focus to his own tasks. 

“The script and other details for LoveTrap: Surrounded by Beauties are nearly ready. Once we lock in the actresses’ pay range, we can submit the proposal to the company,” he mused. “Sayoko can handle that, so I’ll focus on leveling up my scene illustration skills to advanced.” 

Sipping his barley tea, Tetsu crossed his legs and began sketching on his tablet, his suit crisp and composed. 

The small office fell quiet, save for the ticking of the clock, the clack of Sayoko’s keyboard, and the soft taps of Tetsu’s stylus. When he hit a tricky spot, he’d take a big gulp of tea. For the toughest parts, when his brain was in overdrive, he’d light a cigarette. 

Smoking in the office was a bit much, and the smell was strong, but Sayoko didn’t complain. Noticing Tetsu’s furrowed brow, she quietly cracked the windows, refilled the teapot, and returned to her spreadsheet. For agents she couldn’t reach via LINE, she made phone calls. 

They each focused on their tasks, occasionally making small sounds, but the atmosphere was surprisingly comfortable—like a school lunch break where some kids nap, others whisper, and the hum of activity feels cozy. 

In this environment, Tetsu’s focus sharpened. By noon, as the clock ticked on, a notification appeared before him: 

[Intermediate Scene Illustration → Advanced Scene Illustration Lv1] 

“Just organizing knowledge and getting my muscles used to the motions—this leveling speed is insane,” he said, leaning back on the sofa. At that moment, Sayoko approached with a printed document. 

“Tetsu-kun, I’ve compiled the data on the actresses you selected. But…” 

“But?” Tetsu raised an eyebrow. 

Sayoko’s tone turned indignant. “Most of the agents quoted higher fees for our live-action interactive movie game than they did for other companies.” 

“Higher fees?” Tetsu sipped his tea, his expression turning odd. 

With a limited budget, he’d chosen lesser-known actresses. Harsh as it sounded, these were people who should be grateful for any role, let alone a chance to shine. And they were asking for more money? 

It made sense, though. In his original world, LoveTrap took a year and a half from start to release, including filming and editing. Tetsu was working from a finished product, adapting dialogue and characters for localization, but he estimated three months of intense shooting. That meant the actresses for LoveTrap couldn’t take other gigs during that time. 

In this world, live-action interactive movies hadn’t produced a breakout hit—or even a moderately successful one. “The agents probably think this job is better than nothing, but they’re worried it’ll lock their clients out of other opportunities,” Tetsu reasoned. “The ones asking for more are the ones with some experience. They’ve got better acting chops and small fanbases, but the cost…” 

“We’ll need to bring in some amateurs for auditions, but the budget shouldn’t fluctuate too much,” he concluded, flipping through the document. After a moment, he closed it and stood. “Got it. That’s enough for now. Time for lunch.” 

“Okay,” Sayoko said with a slight bow. But as Tetsu reached for the door, she clasped her hands in front of her, fingers twisting nervously, her face flushed. “Um, Tetsu-kun, I made an extra bento this morning. If you don’t mind…”