Skycrest Library, Blue Sky Publishing, Fantasy Literature, Sakura Archive, and Crimson Maple Literature.
Those were the names of the five major light novel serialization publishers headquartered in the main city.
Conveniently, all five companies had their main offices clustered in the northern CBD district of the city, so Haruto did not need to crisscross Minamijo all day.
After about an hour on the bus, his first stop was the headquarters of Crimson Maple Literature.
The two-hundred-meter office tower in front of him obviously did not belong entirely to Crimson Maple. Their offices occupied only floors nineteen through twenty-one. Before coming, Haruto had thoroughly researched all five publishers through every channel he could find.
After registering at the front desk, he stepped into the elevator with a hint of nervousness.
It was around ten in the morning, so the building was not especially crowded. He was the only one inside the elevator. He pressed the button for the twentieth floor, and just as the doors were about to close, a pair of slender, pale hands reached in and stopped them.
The doors slid back open.
A girl wearing a baseball cap and a face mask stepped inside, holding a semi-transparent plastic document folder filled with papers, which she hugged to her chest.
She moved to stand a short distance away from Haruto.
She looked to be around 160 centimeters tall, with long black hair reaching her waist. She wore a light red athletic jacket on top and loose beige pants below. With the cap and mask covering her face, it was hard to see her features, but judging from her eyes, her smooth fair skin, and the outline of her face, he could tell she was probably quite pretty.
She pressed the button for the nineteenth floor.
Haruto was not deliberately staring. He was just unconsciously taking in details.
But as his gaze passed over the folder she was holding, he caught sight of something inside.
On the first page, written in colorful marker, were several large characters.
Yesterday's Starlight.
Behind it was a thick stack of printed manuscript pages.
Combined with the fact that she had pressed the nineteenth floor button, a thought surfaced in his mind.
'Ah. She is probably here to submit a manuscript too. Just like me.'
'Yesterday's Starlight? What kind of story is it?'
Various thoughts flickered through his head. Perhaps his gaze lingered a bit too long on the folder, because the girl suddenly shifted her stance, her guard rising.
As the elevator ascended, the atmosphere inside grew awkward.
"Sorry," Haruto said quickly, trying to ease the tension. "I just wanted to let you know that if you are here to submit to Crimson Maple, you should go to the twentieth floor."
"The nineteenth floor is for operations and senior editors. New submissions are handled on the twentieth."
As soon as he spoke, the girl's wariness visibly eased.
"Thank you," she said after a brief pause.
She reached out and turned off the illuminated nineteenth-floor button.
Her voice was clear, her tone slightly cool, but after she responded, the awkwardness in the elevator faded considerably.
"You are welcome," Haruto replied with a polite smile.
After that, neither of them spoke again.
The twentieth floor arrived quickly.
They exited the elevator one after the other and walked down the corridor, which was lined from start to finish with posters.
Every single one was an illustration from Crimson Maple Literature's most celebrated light novels over the years.
These were the publisher's flagship works. Any one of them had sold hundreds of thousands, some even over a million copies in total volume sales.
Haruto owned full sets of quite a few of them.
At the end of the corridor, they finally reached Crimson Maple's main office hall.
The moment he stepped inside, he was struck by how lively it was. This floor was dedicated specifically to new submissions, and in the light novel world, what was the most common thing?
Newcomers.
Even on a cold early February day, there were seven or eight people waiting in the reception area.
In the central office space, stacks of manuscripts mailed in from all over the country or delivered in person were being carefully reviewed by editors.
"You two are here to submit manuscripts, right?"
A receptionist dressed in a professional office skirt, approached them with a practiced smile. She had worked here for years, and she could tell their purpose at a glance.
"Yes."
"That is right."
They spoke almost at the same time.
The girl in the red athletic jacket glanced at Haruto again.
So he was a fellow submitter.
"Please come this way," the receptionist said.
"There are seven people ahead of you, but do not worry. Within twenty minutes, an on-site editor will meet with you."
"Twenty minutes?" the masked girl asked to confirm.
"Yes, twenty minutes," the receptionist replied, then led them to the waiting area and left.
"Twenty minutes, seven people," the girl murmured, looking toward the room across from the waiting area.
Through the frosted glass, she could make out only a single editor inside.
That alone revealed how brutal this industry was.
Crimson Maple published dozens of magazines across various genres, but each magazine only had a dozen or so serialization slots.
Most of the time, new slots only opened up when existing series ended.
And those few precious slots were competed over by countless young men and women across the prefecture, all influenced by anime and light novels, all betting their future careers on becoming light novel authors.
Most submissions were nothing more than cannon fodder. Trash.
Experienced editors needed only a minute or two to skim a few thousand words before deciding a manuscript's fate.
The masked girl tightened her grip on the transparent folder.
As for Haruto, he casually looked around from his seat and even asked the receptionist to pour him a cup of hot coffee.
There was nothing to be nervous about.
If a creator's life work, poured out with blood and sweat, was rejected within a minute, that would be devastating.
But strictly speaking, Haruto was not the true creator of Blue Spring Ride.
Even if it was rejected, it would not hurt too much. If Crimson Maple did not want it, he would simply try the other four publishers.
"Haruto"
The receptionist gestured for him to enter the meeting room.
It had not even been twenty minutes.
After just fifteen, following seven people who walked out with dejected expressions, it was finally his turn.
"Oh, it is my turn," Haruto said, his spirits lifting.
He grabbed the copied manuscript of Blue Spring Ride, pushed open the door, and stepped inside.
_______________________
[You can leave your power stones here.]
Support me at patreon.com/CulturedOne and read 50 Advanced Chapters