Creating Anime In A Fantasy World

Chapter 265: The Garden of Sinners: Oblivion Recording (Part 2)

Southern Frontier—Television Tavern.

The moment the news broke that The Garden of Sinners: Chapter 6 was finally about to air, the entire city erupted.

No matter who they were—farmers, merchants, soldiers, or nobles—whatever they had been doing a second ago was instantly forgotten. As soon as the words “Episode Six is coming out!” spread, people dropped everything and sprinted toward the nearest television tavern, desperate to grab a good seat before the show began.

And though there were still several long hours left before the broadcast, the tavern was already packed—voices clashing like waves.

“Sure, The Garden of Sinners got delayed by a month,” one man said, nursing a mug of ale, “but honestly? I don’t mind. JoJo has been so good lately that I actually look forward to it more than Garden of Sinners now!”

“What are you talking about?” another man shot back, slamming his glass on the table. “JoJo is great, I’ll give you that—but compared to The Garden of Sinners, it still falls just a little short!”

“Oh yeah? Based on what, exactly?” someone from the next table leaned over. “JoJo has everything—a gripping plot, moments that make your blood boil, scenes that make you cry, and lines that’ll live forever! You can’t get better than that!”

“Tch, everything you just said applies to Garden of Sinners too!” came the sharp reply. “But if you ask me, its story is deeper and more refined. It’s not just cool—it’s profound!”

“JoJo hits harder! ‘The hymn of humanity is the hymn of courage!’ My son keeps shouting that every day!”

“Ha! That’s nothing! ‘As long as it's alive, I'll even kill gods!’ You know that one, right? My kid’s always holed up in his room saying that kind of embarrassing nonsense. Thinks I can’t hear him, but this house’s walls are so thin I can hear everything—even when he’s… let’s just say working with his hands!”

“Oi, can we not—?!” someone groaned. “You people are unbelievable. Anyway, forget JoJo or Garden of Sinners—I’m more hyped for Fate/Zero! They say it’s coming out in March, and I seriously can’t wait!”

“What are you, twelve? Steins;Gate is where it’s at! Compared to the hard sci-fi of Steins;Gate, your fantasy stuff is child’s play!”

“You wanna start something, huh?!”

“Bring it on! Let’s see whose taste reigns supreme!”

“…”

In an instant, chaos erupted throughout the tavern.

Since this world had no internet, there were no online flame wars—no thousand-comment arguments on message boards. Instead, every heated debate inevitably escalated into real-life, face-to-face duels.

That’s why every television tavern was equipped with its own security force—volunteers from the Southern Frontier Garrison.

Soldiers, bound by strict discipline, rarely got the chance to skip duty for a show. So when the army opened up “television guard” positions, competition was fierce. Those who landed the job were elite among elites—strong, stoic, and terrifyingly competent.

With a few of them stepping in, the brawling drunks were subdued in seconds. Faced with these human tanks, even the loudest hotheads tucked their tails between their legs and mumbled quiet apologies.

And so, order returned to the tavern.

The heated arguments cooled into quiet conversations—laughter and the clinking of glasses filling the air once again.

Everyone sat back down, their eyes gleaming with excitement, waiting for the magic hour when the TV would flicker to life.

In a way, that anticipation—the shared thrill that filled the room—was even more captivating than the show itself.

And perhaps that was why, even on nights when nothing new was airing, people still came back here, day after day, drawn not by the screen, but by the atmosphere.

And with that boom in popularity, the business opportunities practically exploded overnight.

Television taverns, once dismissed as a passing fad, had now grown into an industry rivaling even the grandest of movie theaters.

Merchants who once sneered at the “free admission” model were now dumbfounded, their jaws practically hitting the floor. But by the time they realized just how massive this new market had become, it was already far too late—no matter how hard they tried to squeeze in, there simply wasn’t any room left to claim a slice of the pie.

Without question, the rise of the television taverns and cinemas had completely transformed the entertainment landscape of the southern territory.

Traditional industries were collapsing one after another—some scrambling to adapt, others vanishing entirely.

But to Edward, this was nothing more than the pain of progress—the growing aches of a new era.

He believed, deep down, that someday the bright, ideal world he dreamed of would truly take root in this land.

. . . .

At the same time—Imperial Mage Academy.

The mage had heard the news of The Garden of Sinners: Chapter 6 even earlier than the people of the southern territory.

The reason was simple: Student Council President White Watts had accidentally let it slip.

It had happened when Edward was discussing a possible new film project with him—a movie that might be produced in the future. During their talk, Edward casually mentioned that The Garden of Sinners’ next episode was about to air.

That tiny bit of information was all it took.

White, overexcited as always, couldn’t keep it to himself and blurted it out to the rest of the student council. Naturally, the other members couldn’t contain their excitement either, and the rumor spread like wildfire through the academy halls.

Within just a few hours, the entire Imperial Mage Academy was buzzing with the news—“Episode Six is coming!”

Edward could only sigh when he found out. 

It wasn’t like it was classified information—everyone was going to learn about it eventually anyway. So really, there was no harm done.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Reality, however, had other plans.

As anticipation soared, classroom order began to collapse. Students couldn’t focus—half of them staring blankly out the window, clearly lost in thoughts of Garden of Sinners.

And it wasn’t just the students. Even some of the lecturers were so distracted by the upcoming screening that they kept stumbling over their lectures, forgetting spells mid-chant or mixing up alchemical formulas.

The decline in teaching quality was so severe that Headmaster Hohenheim himself came storming into Edward’s office not long after.

“From now on,” the old man said through gritted teeth, “you are forbidden from leaking any film or television information ahead of schedule!”

Edward could only raise both hands in defeat.

He hadn’t meant to cause trouble—and being scolded for something he didn’t even do directly felt incredibly unfair—but he had no choice except to agree.

. . .

After nearly an entire day of chaos, the long-awaited day finally arrived.

The premiere of The Garden of Sinners: Oblivion Recording was here.

Every student, every teacher—even the normally stoic magisters—flooded toward the Alchemy Tower.

In the past, there had been a flood of complaints from students who didn’t know the Eagle Eye Spell and therefore couldn’t see the image projected during screenings. So this time, Ska had been forced to install a brand-new, massive, wall-sized magic screen in the great hall.

It wasn’t quite as advanced as the liquid-crystal display inside the Southern Duke’s manor—but for an alchemical construct powered purely by magic circuits, it was nothing short of a miracle of magitech engineering.

Of course, it was also painfully obvious that Hohenheim had lent more than a little help.

And so, as the lights dimmed and the hum of mana filled the air, every student in the academy sat frozen in their seats—eyes wide, hearts pounding.

On that vast, glowing screen before them, the opening sequence of The Garden of Sinners: Oblivion Recording slowly began to play.