Kudou Miyoko had been navigating the workplace for years, and her mindset adjusted remarkably quickly.
A few deep breaths, eyes closed and then reopened.
Before long, she had swiftly shifted from her previous position as head of the Neon branch for Touma Youko's office to the role of assistant to Minamoto Senya and the company president's daughter.
Work was work—there was little she couldn't handle.
Following the address the president had sent her, she drove for over half an hour and arrived at the general location.
After parking along the street, she dialed Minamoto Senya's number.
In no time, a strikingly handsome young man came jogging up to her.
Miyoko's eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat.
Almost every woman's fantasy about the opposite sex included some form of a prince charming.
The exact image differed depending on personal preference: a brilliant, elegant scholar; a cheerful, sunshiny neighborly boy; or a roguish yet kind-hearted and commanding young CEO.
As for Miyoko herself—somewhat embarrassingly—she was drawn to men who could give her a sense of security: strong, solidly built, and dependable.
Senya, standing before her, clearly did not match that exact type. He was physically fit, but his casual clothing hung loosely on him. Though his upper body bore faintly defined abs—something that had once made Saeko's eyes sparkle—his proportions were balanced rather than intimidatingly powerful.
Still, even if he wasn't her usual "type," the young man before her managed to captivate her for several seconds.
How could this be? Had he always been this handsome when she first met him?
He radiated the warmth of the sun—gentle, yet distant and unattainable.
And yet, he seemed to change a little every day…
Senya noticed Miyoko staring, but he didn't mind. He had seen this reaction countless times before.
He casually raised his hand in greeting, comfortable and familiar:
"Long time no see, Ms. Kudou. Thank you for coming all this way."
Miyoko snapped back to reality, inwardly scolding herself. How could she feel such things toward someone so much younger than her?
When she was his age, he hadn't even been born yet—or perhaps was just a tiny tadpole in the world.
Still, Miyoko was a seasoned professional, and she quickly recovered. Narrowing her eyes and offering a faint smile, she entered work mode immediately:
"Long time no see, Senya. The president briefed me on the details. I look forward to working with you."
"Not at all. It's I who should be learning from you, Ms. Kudou. Have you had lunch yet?"
"Not yet. The president's instructions were urgent, so I came straight here."
"Perfect timing. I'm having lunch with a friend; why don't you join us?"
"Wouldn't that be a bother? I can just find a small restaurant outside."
"No, no…"
"By the way, congratulations on winning the Ranpo Prize…"
"Thank you…"
Senya guided Miyoko into the restaurant, chatting casually along the way.
Inside, Miyoko was taken aback once again.
A large table full of girls!
And each of them was a striking beauty!
Greeting them, Miyoko suddenly understood why the president had been so insistent on sending her.
The situation was indeed delicate. If she were a decade younger, she probably wouldn't have let such an outstanding young man slip by either.
Compared to that, the president's daughter, Yua, was quiet and lacked initiative—clearly needing some help, otherwise she stood little chance.
While Miyoko observed the other girls, they quietly sized her up in return.
Eriri visibly relaxed upon seeing a mature, professional woman as Senya's assistant.
Kasuminoh, after a brief conversation, concluded from Miyoko's demeanor that she held no unusual interest in Senya and posed no threat.
Saeko, on the other hand, had never been worried. If anything, she regretted not sitting next to Senya, where she could have indulged in subtle physical teasing under the table.
For reasons she couldn't explain, she loved seeing Senya forced to act indifferent in front of others—it excited her.
She privately scolded herself for having such a mischievous personality, but no longer felt the shame she once had.
Senya had fully accepted this side of her.
Time flew as they ate and chatted.
By 1:00 p.m., they left the restaurant.
The lunch had cost over 30,000 yen. Considering the number of people and the quality of the beef, it wasn't unreasonable.
When paying, Miyoko, as the only adult, had initially intended to cover the bill—but Senya wouldn't let her.
"Well, Senya, I'll be heading back."
On the street, the sensible Saeko took the lead in saying goodbye. Others followed.
They had discussed earlier that Senya had urgent business at the publishing company and couldn't drag everyone along—it wasn't a middle-school field trip.
After everyone left, Senya got into Miyoko's car.
A cute Beetle, covered in a sky-blue protective wrap, its year unclear but charming nonetheless.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Senya casually commented:
"Ms. Kudou, the scent in your car is really nice."
Miyoko froze mid-seatbelt.
What a heartbreaker! She hadn't even put perfume in her car.
Perhaps the scent was just… her own lingering body fragrance after all these years?
No, she had to calm down. She was a professional. She needed to adjust—there would be plenty more time with this young man.
"Ah, that's just something I grabbed at a supermarket before. I barely remember it," she said evenly, changing the topic.
Turning to the matter at hand, she asked:
"Senya, what time is your meeting with the publisher?"
"Two o'clock."
"Let me see…" Miyoko pulled out her phone and opened the navigation app.
"We have time, but considering traffic, we should head out now. We can discuss the rest on the way."
"Have you dealt with publishers before, Ms. Kudou?"
"No, but I've worked with TV stations, magazines, and music labels alongside the president. It's pretty similar."
"That's reassuring. I'll leave everything in your hands."
"Now, Senya, tell me all about your tasks. Signing contracts is like doing business; the more we know, the better position we'll have in negotiations."
"I understand…"
Miyoko pressed the accelerator, and the car moved off.
It turned out Touma Youko had not exaggerated: Miyoko was highly competent and trustworthy, perfectly suited for the assistant role.
During their drive, Senya learned that she had graduated from the prestigious Keio University.
She had met Touma Youko by chance during her junior year and had worked steadily for her ever since.
Arriving at the publisher, most of the work no longer required Senya's attention.
The receptionists, having been briefed beforehand, politely led them to the meeting room.
Passing the lobby, elevators, and long hallways, Senya saw the sheer scale of the company—posters, life-sized figures, and merchandise from countless popular works.
[The Shrinking Dwarf][Tomorrow's Joe][Devilman][Kamen Rider][Ghost in the Shell]… the list was endless.
Waiting in the meeting room were five staff members: marketing editors, a publishing manager, and distribution personnel. Upon seeing Senya, they were momentarily stunned.
The reason was simple: no one expected the Ranpo Prize winner to be so young.
After a brief exclamation and polite greetings, the marketing editor handed over the contract:
"Mr. Minamoto, Ms. Kudou, here's the contract for review."
Senya nodded; Miyoko smiled politely and took the document:
"Thank you."
"Take your time. If you have questions, we can discuss them."
It was standard for authors to bring a professional assistant or lawyer, so Senya having Miyoko present was unsurprising.
With her background in commerce, Miyoko quickly reviewed the contract, highlighting key points for Senya.
The basic royalty rate was 8%. That meant if a book sold for 1,000 yen, Senya would earn 80 yen per copy. Though modest, this was standard.
Still, seeing the figure made Senya hesitate.
Miyoko, sensing his thoughts, nodded subtly: she would handle this.
She explained politely:
"We've reviewed the contract. The only concern is the royalty distribution—it seems a bit low."
The publishing manager explained: 8% was industry standard, especially for new authors. Costs like marketing, printing, distribution, and advertising had to be covered.
Miyoko's gentle smile revealed her own plan:
"Senya isn't lacking recognition. Before winning the Ranpo Prize, he was already somewhat famous."
One female staff member recognized him immediately:
"Minamoto Senya… the 'Tiger of the Empire' who won forty-two consecutive matches at last year's Gyokuryuu Flag Tournament?"
Senya's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Miyoko, undaunted, affirmed it:
"Yes, that's correct."
As they recounted his achievements in kendo and piano, the staff gradually realized his remarkable talent.
Miyoko leveraged this to argue for better royalties.
In the end, the publisher made concessions:
The base 8% royalty remained.
Added a tiered system:
First print: 30,000 copies at 8%.
Reprints above 30,000: 12%.
Reprints above 80,000: 15%.
They added a clause about future mystery novels: originally, all future works had to be published through the company. Miyoko negotiated it to:
"Future works should be offered to this publisher first. If they cannot cooperate, Senya may choose another publisher. Both parties must keep this confidential."
What should have taken an hour stretched to over five, with Miyoko negotiating tirelessly.
Walking to the parking lot, Miyoko stretched under the sunset breeze.
Having grown familiar with Senya's easygoing nature, she relaxed:
"The president asked me to take good care of you. Today's task is accomplished. I look forward to working with you, Mr. Minamoto."
"That should be me. I look forward to working with you, Ms. Kudou."
"Mutual guidance. Do you have time now?"
"No other plans."
"Great. Let's stop by the mall to print business cards and set up a new business phone line. I'll manage it separately from your personal number, handle minor tasks, and confirm appointments for tomorrow…"
Miyoko continued chattering as they got into the car. Her professionalism as an assistant was unmistakable.