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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 367(2in1)
🕑 Added 2026-01-01 19:19:45 +0000 UTCTokyo, Thursday Afternoon
Sakuragaoka High School – Lunch Break
Nao leaned back in his chair, phone in hand, scrolling through the latest Trigun promotional art.
“Sōta, you coming to buy the new Muzishiro manga after school?”
Sōta looked up from his bento. “Obviously. I’ve been waiting a month for this.”
Itsuki glanced between them. “Wait, is it releasing today?”
Nao stared at him. “How do you not know this? It’s been all over social media.”
“I don’t check social media much,” Itsuki said, unbothered. “I’d rather read an extra manga volume instead of scrolling.”
“You’re missing half your life,” Sōta said.
“I’m reading twice as much as you,” Itsuki replied. “I think I’m fine.”
Nao turned his phone toward them, showing the cover art. “Look at this. The art looks sick.”
Sōta leaned closer. “Is that the main character? He looks like a fashion model.”
“Since JoJo,” Itsuki said, “Muzishiro’s been leaning more into style. I like it.”
Nao set his phone down. “Oh, are you guys getting Code Geass too? The manga adaptation.”
Itsuki blinked. “That was announced a month ago. We’re already buying it.”
Sōta shook his head. “What do you even do in your free time? How are you this behind on everything?”
“I read manga,” Itsuki said simply. “That’s the whole point.”
The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
After School
Nao practically bolted out of class the moment the teacher dismissed them.
He was already halfway down the hall when Itsuki and Sōta caught up.
“Can you guys walk faster?” Nao called back, grinning.
“You’ve waited a month already,” Itsuki said. “You can wait five more minutes.”
“Every second counts.”
Sōta laughed. “You’re way too hyped for this.”
“It’s Muzishiro,” Nao said, as if that explained everything.
They walked through the shopping district, past convenience stores and vending machines, until they reached the manga shop they’d been visiting since middle school. The bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside.
The store wasn’t crowded, but it had a steady flow of customers. A few people browsed the shelves near the front. The familiar smell of new paper and ink filled the air.
Nao headed straight for the magazine rack.
“It’s been forever since I bought a Chain Veil magazine,” Sōta said, scanning the shelves.
“Same,” Nao said. “Two years, maybe? What about you, Itsuki?”
“I come here every week.”
Sōta turned. “Of course you do. But is there anything else worth reading in Chain Veil right now?”
Itsuki shrugged. “A few series are having good arcs. But you won’t care about them.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re formulaic,” Itsuki said. “But I like them.”
Nao frowned. “How can you read the same type of story over and over without getting bored?”
“It’s comfort,” Itsuki replied. “I know what to expect. I don’t have to think too hard. After reading something like Fullmetal or JoJo, it’s nice to relax with something predictable. Balance.”
“That sounds boring,” Sōta said.
“How many times have you reread your favorite manga?” Itsuki asked.
Sōta paused. “…Fair point.”
Nao pulled a magazine from the rack. The cover showed a blond man in a long red coat, wearing round goggles. He held a large silver revolver casually in one gloved hand, his expression relaxed but sharp.
“This has such an aura,” Nao said.
Sōta took one for himself. “I was thinking the same thing.”
Itsuki picked up a copy, studying the cover. “It has a nice old-school Western vibe. Classic.”
“I’m buying the poster too,” Nao said.
They walked toward the register.
The cashier looked up and immediately shook his head. “Sorry. We sold out this morning.”
Nao froze. “What?”
“Yeah, we’re out. A lot of nearby stores ran out too. We put in an order, but it might not arrive until Saturday. Maybe Monday.”
Nao groaned. “We should’ve come during lunch break.”
“It’s fine,” Sōta said. “Let’s just go to the café and read it there.”
Moriya Café
They claimed their usual corner table near the window. Nao ordered a latte, Sōta got iced tea, and Itsuki asked for black coffee.
Once the drinks arrived, all three opened the magazine and went straight to Trigun.
The first page showed a wanted poster.
VASH THE STAMPEDE — $60,000,000,000 REWARD
The text below listed him as a Class-G ability user capable of mass destruction. Rebel. Potential murderer.
And at the bottom, in smaller print:
“He is also a staunch pacifist.”
Nao smirked. “Sixty billion dollars and a pacifist. Is this a joke?”
The next page showed four armed men. Dusty town. Saloon-style buildings.
The scene shifted to a small diner. Vash sat at the counter, casually eating.
The four men burst through the door, guns drawn.
They opened fire.
Vash dodged—barely. Bullets tore through the diner, shattering glass, splintering wood. Tables flipped. Chairs exploded into splinters.
When the dust settled, Vash lay on the floor in a pool of blood.
One of the men approached cautiously, gun raised, aiming for a final shot.
Vash’s hand shot up. He jammed his finger into the barrel of the gun.
The man froze.
The other three stood near the counter, already daydreaming about the reward money.
“Hey, miss,” one of them said to the terrified waitress. “Don’t worry. We’ll pay for the damages.”
Vash stood slowly, dusting himself off. He placed a hand on one of the gunmen’s shoulders.
Another panicked and raised his weapon.
Vash drew his revolver and fired.
Nao admired the panel. “The scene looks cool.”
The panel revealed the result: a harmless toy dart stuck to the man’s forehead.
Vash sighed.
“What are you?” one of the men demanded.
Vash struck a ridiculous pose, one hand on his chest.
“I am merely a man, a hunter of peace, chasing the ephemeral dream called love. Do you understand?”
The men stared at him.
Then they started shooting again.
Vash tried to calm them down. “Wait, wait! Try to understand love! Don’t shoot—”
Click. Click. Click.
They were out of ammo.
All except one.
Vash moved. In a blur of motion, he disarmed them and sent them away naked, keeping their clothes as payment for the damages. He handed a young boy back his toy gun.
One customer looked up. "With all those bullets… how are you still alive? Why didn't you shoot back?"
Vash sat back down. Resumed eating.
“Well,” he said casually, “for the price of one bullet, I can get four slices of pizza toast.”
The man stared.
Vash’s expression softened. “But even joking aside… how can anyone forgive causing harm? Casualties are best avoided, don’t you think?”
The scene shifted.
Two women were tracking Vash’s movements, trying to locate him before more destruction occurred.
Back in the village, townspeople whispered and pointed.
A young woman in a maid outfit stepped forward, holding a gun.
She aimed it directly at Vash.
“If the rumors are true, Mr. Vash… half the bounty would cover our town’s expenses. The other half we’d split among ourselves.” She hesitated. “I’m sorry.”
End of Chapter 1
Itsuki put his magazine down. “The art’s great. But Vash feels like every classic shounen protagonist ever.”
“Fullmetal has the Elric brothers,” Nao said. “They’re pretty standard shounen protagonists too. But the story made them work.”
“Sure,” Sōta said. “But if Muzishiro’s just doing the same thing again, I don’t know how to feel about it.”
Itsuki took a sip of his coffee. “Read Chapter Two before deciding. This is only the first chapter.”
“We’re just thinking out loud,” Nao said. “We’re not judging yet.”
Itsuki muttered under his breath, “Short attention spans…”
Nao ignored him and turned the page to Chapter Two.
Chapter 2
Vash running through the streets, pursued by villagers.
The two women arrived in town, following Vash’s trail, and tried to stop the townspeople from attacking the S-level criminal. But the townspeople wouldn’t listen and failed to capture Vash.
The town hired outside help—the Nebraska Family, a father-and-son criminal duo.
Vash found himself cornered in a bar. Four bartenders surrounded him, guns raised. They didn’t want to do this, but they needed the money.
Vash drew his revolver and aimed.
In one fluid motion, he knocked the guns out of all four bartenders’ hands.
He pressed a hand to his face, his voice strained.
“Until I find this person… no matter what happens, I won’t rest. I can’t kill. So please, don’t make me shoot.”
The standoff held for a tense moment.
Then the Nebraska Family arrived.
The son—a massive man in powered armor—smashed through the wall like it was paper.
The entire building collapsed.
Vash grabbed the nearest bartender and jumped, pulling them to safety as debris rained down.
When the dust settled, three of the bartenders were buried under the rubble.
Dead.
End of Chapter 2
Itsuki set the Chain Veil magazine aside. “Now what do you think?”
Nao leaned back. “Okay. Now I’m interested. There’s something going on with his character.”
Sōta nodded slowly. “I’ll wait a few more chapters before I decide. What do you think, Itsuki?”
Itsuki adjusted his glasses. “I think the classic shounen style is a mask. Muzishiro’s done this before. He sets up something familiar, then flips it. Based on his track record, there’s something different underneath.”
“You trust him that much?” Sōta asked.
“Three years of following his work,” Itsuki said. “Yeah. I do.”
Online
The reactions mirrored the trio’s uncertainty.
“Did the Chain Veil curse start affecting Muzishiro? Is he writing shounen slop now?”
“I don’t know what to think yet. This is the most standard shounen opening he’s ever written.”
“Even if Muzishiro writes typical shounen, it’ll be worth reading. I think it’s time he wrote a proper shounen series.”
“I hate this no-kill rule. It’s such moral high-ground nonsense while everyone else suffers. I hope Muzishiro doesn’t lean too hard into it.”
“Fullmetal had the same vibe at first, but the story made up for it. Give it time.”
“I’ve been following Muzishiro for three years. I trust he wouldn’t write generic shounen. There’s something else here.”
The online reactions were mixed. After only two chapters, people weren’t analyzing too deeply yet.
But they were reading.
