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I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 151
🕑 Added 2025-05-29 16:47:10 +0000 UTCOn release day, most readers who picked up Shroud Line because of Echo Shroud’s promotions expected Initial D to be decent—maybe fresh, possibly entertaining. What they got, though, went far beyond that.
From the opening scene, Initial D pulled readers straight into a tense downhill battle on a mountain pass. It didn’t bother with complicated racing terms—it delivered speed, grit, and immediacy. Readers felt the tires gripping the asphalt, the risk in every corner. Street racing wasn’t a distant fantasy—it was something grounded, almost tangible.
That clarity gave it a rare kind of impact. Racing manga had struggled before, not because of the subject, but because they forgot to tell a good story. Initial D didn’t.
The protagonist—a quiet high schooler helping at his family’s tofu shop, who turns out to be the fastest driver on Mount Akina—felt refreshingly grounded. The tension between daily life and hidden talent, the street racing scenes, and the relationships that started to form around them... it all clicked.
By that afternoon, the buzz online had become impossible to ignore. Word spread fast, and with it, the author’s name—Mizushiro.
“Who knew street racing could be this intense?”
“I opened the chapter just to skim it. Ended up rereading it twice.”
“Wait, Mizushiro wrote this too? How?!”
Haruki’s Fend page was flooded with comments. Tens of thousands of new readers had arrived within hours—some begging for faster updates, others joking that Initial D had completely derailed their day.
“I was here for Natsume, but this??”
“Bro, how can one guy drop two bangers in the same issue?”
“I’ve never even liked racing stuff, but I need chapter . Now.”
Even readers who typically avoided racing manga admitted they were hooked. What started as curiosity turned into genuine anticipation.
Some longtime Natsume fans were caught off guard.
“Not sure how to feel... no one’s talking about Natsume today.”
“Hey, Natsume’s still amazing. But this is... different. It’s fast.”
They might’ve felt conflicted, but they still turned the pages. Most had picked up Shroud Line for Natsume anyway—checking out another series by the same author was only natural. And what they found was just as captivating, if not in a completely different way.
The next morning, Shroud Line released early popularity poll results.
The top three were unchanged:
1st – Dream World by Airi Tanaka
2nd – Ryūkon by Rinseki
3rd – Natsume’s Book of Friends by Mizushiro
Fourth was Taboo Girl, a long-running favorite.
Fifth was Initial D.
For a moment, the editorial floor went still.
A first chapter debuting in the top five? That kind of result just didn’t happen. Even Xtreme Boys, Rindou’s highly anticipated return, had only placed tenth. Which was still respectable—for most series, it took weeks just to break into the top ten.
But Initial D had rocketed out of the gate.
“Fifth place... on chapter one?” someone finally said.
A few editors exchanged glances. The atmosphere wasn’t tense—just a quiet sense of awe.
Two of the top five series, both from Mizushiro.
“If this keeps up,” someone murmured, “he might actually pass Taboo Girl next week.”
“Don’t say that. Haruki’s going to end up cannibalizing his own rankings.”
Someone chuckled, half-serious.
“You think he could challenge Ryūkon? Or even Dream World?”
No one answered immediately. Because the truth was... maybe.
If Initial D continued to gain momentum, if it found its stride and kept pulling readers in—then yes. It wasn’t impossible.
“He’s only nineteen, right?”
“Eighteen, I think.”
“Unreal.”
Before Airi Tanaka, no one under twenty-five had ever hit number one in Shroud Line. Now, there might be two teenagers near the top of the rankings.
Even if Initial D never took the top spot, having both of Mizushiro’s series in the top five was nearly unprecedented. A successful double serialization like this? Almost unheard of.
“I kind of envy Haruka right now,” someone muttered. “Three of her series in the top five. At this rate, she’s probably getting promoted before the year ends.”
The chatter died instantly when Haruka Sato stepped into the office, sharp and composed, bag over her shoulder.
She didn’t say anything—just nodded politely as she passed.
But everyone understood what her calm meant.
She’d seen the rankings.
And she was already thinking about what came next.
