Time flew by.
Only twenty-four hours remained until the official launch of A Certain Magical Index.
The entire light novel industry had been whipped into a frenzy over the Wagering Agreement.
The hype had reached its peak.
So had the controversy.
The night before the storm was always the loudest.
And in those final hours, voices slandering Seiji Fujiwara burst forth like mushrooms after rain.
――――
Kadokawa Bunko, Editorial Department.
A veteran Editor-in-Chief, well-respected in the industry for his cautious and steady style, was being interviewed by a leading trade magazine.
The reporter leaned forward respectfully. "Editor-in-Chief, what's your opinion on the recent Wagering Agreement between Fushikawa Bunko and the rookie 'Prince Warukawa'?"
The old editor adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his smile carrying hidden meaning.
"Heh. It's good for young people to be bold. And Aida-kun from Fushikawa has always enjoyed walking the unconventional path."
"But at Kadokawa Bunko, our philosophy has always been to respect the market, and more importantly, to respect the natural rhythm of an author's creative process."
"A great work needs careful polishing. It shouldn't be forced out by gimmicks and gambling."
"We'd rather provide newcomers with a stable, secure environment to create in, instead of shoving them under crushing spotlights for a gamble with uncertain odds."
Every word was watertight.
He made Kadokawa look virtuous and humane, while subtly painting Fushikawa Bunko and Seiji Fujiwara's actions as shortsighted, profit-driven, and disrespectful toward literature.
The interview spread quickly, reprinted across the industry, dripping with the smug tone of bystanders enjoying the spectacle.
"Well said! That's the class of a true major publisher."
"Translation: we don't need gimmicks—we win with pure strength."
"Hah, just wait for Aida and that rookie to crash and burn. I want to see how they crawl off stage."
――――
Meanwhile, the famous literary critic Haruhiko Okouchi published an article in his personal column titled:
"The Lament of Literature: When Hype Overwhelms Content."
The prose dripped with scorn and disdain.
"…It pains me to see the light novel market so corroded by this shallow, money-worshipping trend."
"A work not yet tested by the market has been thrown onto a pedestal simply because of a minor past success, hyped with an absurd Wagering Agreement. This is nothing less than blasphemy against literature itself!"
"That young man writing under the name 'Prince Warukawa' may have a knack for dabbling in dark themes, but that in no way proves he can handle the sweeping narrative and depth required of a true long-form novel."
"Blinded by capital and vanity, he's chosen the most dangerous path. And we, unfortunately, are about to witness the fall of a so-called 'genius.' This is not only his personal tragedy, but a tragedy of our entire era."
As a battle-hardened veteran of literary criticism, Okouchi had a loyal fanbase.
His piece instantly became the intellectual and moral high ground for the anti-Fujiwara camp.
Countless "refined" readers seized upon his words as gospel, branding Seiji Fujiwara as nothing more than an opportunist corrupted by commerce.
――――
On Amazon's preorder page for A Certain Magical Index, the review section had already turned into a battlefield.
Thanks to the Wagering Agreement hype, waves of trolls and haters flooded in, burying the page in negative comments.
[ILoveBlackStraightHair]: I used to really like the style of 6 Days, 6 People, 6 Guns, but now you're writing some random school fantasy? What a disappointment! And this kind of publicity stunt? You're not the Prince Warukawa I once admired.
[Where'sTheSnowGirl?]: 350,000 copies? Hahaha, I've already popped the champagne! Can't wait to see Prince Warukawa crying as he settles for that pathetic 10% royalty!
[LikeTheWind]: Never read this author before, but this marketing scheme is disgusting. The book must be trash if it needs tricks like this. Blocked—never buying.
[LittleHoshino]: Sigh. I was looking forward to this, but now it just feels gross. Changing genres is fine, but why be so high-profile about it? He's basically throwing himself onto the fire. Too reckless.
Scrolling through the page, it was a wasteland of negativity.
Supportive voices were nearly impossible to find.
All of it swirled together into a storm of public opinion so fierce it looked ready to devour A Certain Magical Index before it even hit the shelves.
Inside Fushikawa Bunko's editing department, the mood was suffocating.
The publicity team sat grim-faced, sweat beading on their foreheads.
They pushed promotions as hard as they could, but rival publishers—none of whom wanted to see a genius rise outside their walls—were actively fanning the flames.
Fushikawa's efforts were like a drop in the ocean.
Sonoko Machida was the most frantic of all, pacing around her desk like an ant on a hot pan.
"What do we do? The whole narrative's out of control…" she muttered, face twisted with worry.
The crushing pressure was about to break her.
Finally, she snatched up her phone and dialed a number.
The call connected almost immediately.
"Hello."
Seiji Fujiwara's calm, unshaken voice drifted through the receiver.
"Sensei!" Sonoko's voice trembled with a sob. "Have you seen the internet? I'm so sorry! I'm really, really sorry! All those reviews, those articles… it's our fault, we screwed everything up."
She babbled apologies, bracing herself for him to lash out.
But instead, a soft chuckle came through.
"Machida, relax."
"B-but—"
"Let me ask you something," Seiji cut her off. "Do all those people flaming me know what my new book is called?"
"…They… they do. A Certain Magical Index…"
"And do they know it comes out tomorrow?"
"…Yes."
"And do they know that Fushikawa Bunko and I are tied to a 350,000-copy wager?"
"…The whole country knows that."
"Then that's all that matters." His tone was light, as if they were discussing the weather. "In this era, being cursed at isn't scary. What's scary is being ignored."
"They're not my enemies. They're my best marketing team."
His voice carried a lazy smile, as though watching a farce from the sidelines.
"The louder they scream, the harsher they curse, the more fuel they throw on our fire."
"Volume doesn't equal truth. Real readers are usually the silent majority."
"And when that silent majority sees all this noise, they won't be able to resist asking themselves: just what kind of book could cause this much chaos?"
"That's enough."
Sonoko stood frozen, his words clearing the storm of panic in her head like a hand untangling a knot.
Yes… that was it.
Fear, anger, haters, trolls—every one of those negative emotions would eventually condense into the same thing—
Curiosity.
And curiosity was the engine of sales.
"Sensei, you're really not worried at all?" she asked quietly.
"Why should I be?" Seiji replied. His voice was cool, indifferent. "The stage is set. Every audience member is already seated. All that's left—"
"—is for the curtain to rise tomorrow."
"Enjoy the show, Machida."
He hung up.
Sonoko stood in the break room, phone still in her hand, unable to move.
She could hardly believe the steadiness in Seiji Fujiwara's voice, or the calm with which he faced this storm.
Taking a deep breath, she straightened her back and returned to the editing floor.
Her colleagues looked up, anxious, waiting.
Sonoko flashed them a bright smile.
"Come on, everyone! Cheer up! Go get the champagne ready!"
"Tomorrow—we'll be witnessing a miracle."