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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 43
🕑 Added 2025-04-18 15:15:16 +0000 UTCIn the quiet hours of the early morning, Haruki stirred awake, his head feeling hazy.
He glanced at the clock—just past four.
Groggy and parched, he got out of bed to get a glass of water. As he passed the hallway, his eyes briefly landed on the closed door to the guest room. Right... Kotone and Sora were likely still resting.
Haruki figured Sora had probably passed out not long after he did—Kotone had definitely outdrunk both of them. While she didn’t usually get drunk, tonight had clearly been an exception. She wouldn’t have come home otherwise.
He cracked open the window in the kitchen. A cool draft rolled in, helping to clear the fog in his mind. The fresh air did its job—he was waking up now.
And as the breeze brushed across his face, something resurfaced from earlier in the evening.
“One B-level lottery draw available.”
That’s right… the system had notified him during the summit.
Without hesitation, Haruki let his consciousness drift—slipping back into the system’s ethereal space.
Just like before, countless manga titles floated in suspended animation around him. Only The Garden of Words and Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance were currently unlocked and available for review.
But this time… something was different.
Hovering in the center of the space was a small, glowing silver key.
He reached out with his system-simulated hand, brushing the surface of the key.
The moment his fingers touched it, a rush of information surged into his mind—details, instructions, restrictions, all flooding in like a sudden downpour.
“…So that’s how it works.”
Haruki pulled his hand back, exhaling softly.
The B-level lottery draw wasn’t just some vague system perk—it was a targeted random pull, selecting one work from the system’s collection of B-ranked manga.
Unlike a full-spectrum lottery, this draw was limited in scope—but that also meant the chances of pulling something truly worthwhile were much higher.
The system had already categorized its archived works based on a blend of quality, cultural impact, and overall popularity.
Haruki had browsed through the system space many times before and knew most of the entries were rated E—manga that barely made a ripple in the industry, with poor reception and forgettable narratives.
D-rank included series with some name recognition but generally middling quality. C-rank pushed higher: works with solid storytelling and moderate popularity, enough to hold a place in the manga scene.
Then came B-rank—series of excellent quality and widespread acclaim, but not quite at the absolute pinnacle.
Above that were A and S-rank—the domain of genre-defining, era-shaping masterpieces.
For instance, Rurouni Kenshin was firmly in A-rank. The Prince of Tennis, despite its massive popularity, only reached B-rank in the system’s eyes. It had a strong fanbase, yes, but when weighed for narrative depth and legacy, Kenshin outclassed it by a mile.
Especially considering The Prince of Tennis's second arc had become absurdly over-the-top—Haruki mentally dubbed it Murder Tennis for how far it strayed from realism.
Similarly, Slam Dunk held S-rank status, a testament to its grounded storytelling and iconic legacy. Meanwhile, Kuroko’s Basketball, entertaining though it was, topped out in the B tier. Haruki couldn’t help but smirk—no high school team, no matter how cool, could realistically outplay five versions of Jordan himself.
As for The Garden of Words, the system rated it as a solid C-rank. It wasn’t a knock on the story’s beauty or craftsmanship—it just didn’t have the scale or longevity that the higher-tier series carried. Its emotional depth was clear, but its reach was limited.
Now that Haruki understood how the system categorized and priced its works, a long-standing question suddenly made sense.
Why was it so hard to turn a profit in world points?
For example, unlocking The Garden of Words had cost him two million points. After nearly a month of serialization, it had only earned him back around 200,000.
In terms of revenue from actual publication, the series had earned him a respectable amount of cash—but in world points?
He was in the red.
The efficiency was low—if he wanted to break even in world points, he’d need to serialize high-value series in the top magazines of the country. Only then could he recoup the millions of points he spent acquiring them.
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That’s why Haruki had always been so cautious, constantly thinking about how to plan for his future as a manga artist.
If he stayed tied to a mid-tier platform like Kurokawa publishing, the math simply didn’t work. A series that cost ten million world points to acquire would only earn back around one million through serialization. Even a smaller project worth one million would barely return a tenth of that. Without creating original stories of his own, the system made it clear—he’d burn through points and flame out fast.
But this new B-level lottery reward had completely shaken his assumptions.
Up until now, he thought the only way to obtain manga through the system was to spend world points—either by targeting a specific series or using all available points on a general draw. But now, he’d seen a third option.
Achievement-based rewards.
The system had been quietly tracking his progress as a manga artist. By reaching certain milestones in the real world, it granted him chances to draw works at a specific tier level.
Haruki realized something else too—when he topped the Inkbolt Series, the experimental magazine under Kurokawa, he didn’t receive any reward from the system. But when he hit number one in Sora, the flagship magazine? That’s when the B-level lottery was triggered.
That difference was telling.
Inkbolt may have been a recognized label, but Sora represented the heart of Kurokawa publishing. Reaching the top there meant something. It wasn’t just a ranking—it was a statement.
He’d become number one in the entire publishing house.
Now he understood the system’s logic more clearly: if a platform couldn’t offer a strong enough return on serialization alone, the system compensated by recognizing reputation and impact. If he climbed high enough in the industry—proved his ability on a grander stage—the rewards would follow.
It wasn’t just about staying afloat anymore.
So what if he moved to a more competitive platform like Hoshikawa or even Tatsuryu? What if he topped those rankings too?
Would the system reward him again?
What if he won first place in the Aurora Manga Awards—the very contest he was currently participating in?
And down the road… if he made his way to the highly competitive scene in the capital and managed to rise to the top of the elite-level publishing platforms there…
Would the system unlock even more powerful draws?
Some of the series archived in the system came with absolutely absurd price tags. Haruki had glanced at titles that cost more world points than he could earn in a year—even a decade.
Titles like Dragon ball, Hunter x hunter, or even Jojo...—well, that one was just ridiculous.
But what if he didn’t need to buy them?
What if he could earn them?
A glimpse. Just once. That was all he wanted—to see what made them so legendary.
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