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The King of Tokyo Freeloaders [125]
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 13:03:52 +0000 UTC"Hah?!"
Shiroi Shiori made a sound of sheer disbelief, eyes widening, frozen stiff on the spot.
She’d understood everything Kuroba Akira had said so far, even felt intense resonance with his thoughts. But this moment—this exact moment—she suddenly couldn’t understand.
Just what on earth is this person saying?
Yet Akira hadn’t finished. He continued to escalate his offer.
First, he raised one finger, then extended another, wearing an expression as if making an immense sacrifice:
"All right, I know—giving you just the pen name is a bit stingy… so how about ten percent—no! Twenty percent!"
Akira flashed her a victory sign and continued cheerfully:
"I'll share twenty percent of my royalties with you!"
Just like when he'd recruited Tashiro Benika as Shion’s manager, Akira decided to offer up twenty percent of the reward. But he kept a careful loophole—not twenty percent of the total royalties, only twenty percent of his share.
After all, if Benika-san truly became Shion’s manager, she'd have to abandon her current career entirely. Compensating her generously was understandable. But paying a ghostwriter? There was absolutely no need to bleed himself dry for that.
Shiori’s mind, however, was completely jumbled.
Why don’t I understand at all...?
No—that wasn’t quite right. She understood perfectly well, but couldn’t comprehend the reason behind his actions.
Why would he do this?
Seeing Shiori remain motionless, Akira folded his arms, tilted his head, and raised an eyebrow skeptically:
"What, still not satisfied with twenty percent? Listen, twenty percent is already a lot, you know. After all, I already promised Aizono-san I'd split the royalties fifty-fifty with her, so the share I'll get isn’t that large to begin with."
Miserly Kuroba Akira, unwilling to budge any further, immediately began calculating aloud for her:
"Just so you have a clearer idea, let me break it down for you. The total royalty for this novel—author plus illustrator combined—is thirteen percent. Splitting evenly with Aizono-san leaves me with 6.5 percent. If I then share twenty percent of my portion with you, that's about 1.3 percent..."
Pretending his heart was aching, Akira let out a dramatic sigh and relented slightly:
"Ugh… fine! I'll be generous and round it up to 1.5 percent! That should be enough, right?"
In truth, Akira had already made his calculations. To rope in a ghostwriter of Shiori’s caliber for just 1.5 percent was an absolute steal. He'd still have five percent remaining!
Besides, the first volume had been painstakingly written by himself. From now on, all he'd need to do was draft the outlines, then have Shiori expand them into full chapters under the pretense of "training." All he’d have left was a bit of final editing.
Doing this would reduce his workload by about eighty percent, while he’d only lose twenty percent of the profits… Even Akira trembled at his own dark-hearted genius.
Earning five percent royalties this effortlessly… I really am a villain.
Afraid she might refuse, Akira pressed on earnestly.
"Don’t worry, I’m not irresponsibly dumping this project on you. I'll still provide the outlines, and the story itself will remain entirely in my control. Your job is simply to polish and enrich the novel. It shouldn’t be that much work, right?"
Bombarded by Akira’s relentless barrage of incentives, Shiori was completely lost, rubbing her throbbing forehead and struggling to keep up.
"Wait a minute… royalties, suddenly… You mean, you’re even willing to share your royalties with me?"
Akira replied matter-of-factly.
"Of course. Work should be paid—I can't ask you to work for free. You know how mangaka have to pay their assistants, right?"
He makes so much sense, I can’t even refute him…
Indeed, if it meant becoming his assistant, she’d be more than willing—actually, she’d eagerly welcome it.
But Shiori still had one burning question left unanswered.
"Okay, fine. Let’s set aside royalties for now…"
"Really?! You're agreeing?!"
Akira’s face lit up, nearly rushing over to grab her hands and shake them up and down excitedly.
"Ah—um, let's hold off on agreeing or not. But you just mentioned authorship credit… Akira-kun, are you saying you’re even giving up your pen name?"
Even his authorship… Does he care so little about his own work?
Akira shrugged casually.
"It doesn’t matter to me. As long as the things I write are liked by readers, and I get paid, that’s enough."
"Hiss…!"
Shiroi Shiori sharply sucked in a breath of cold air, staring at Akira as if she’d just witnessed a saint descending upon earth.
This was the single most shocking moment of her day—no, possibly the most shocking moment of her entire life!
To an author, nothing—absolutely nothing—mattered more than their pen name.
Kuroba Akira was an author himself. He couldn’t possibly be unaware of how precious a pen name was. It was an author's very life!
Only by stamping a work with one's pen name could they prove authorship and be remembered by readers, passing down their legacy for generations… All right, even if not becoming a timeless classic, at the very least one could boast to acquaintances.
Not even the pursuit of money could justify discarding something this crucial!
Yet, Akira was able to casually toss aside his pen name, all for the sake of perfecting the novel!
Just… what level of dedication is this…?!
"...Akira-kun, when I said earlier you lacked the resolve to become a professional author, please let me formally take those words back."
"Oh?"
Shiori looked at him with newfound respect, voice trembling slightly from sheer admiration:
"You are, without question, the purest author I have ever met. No exceptions."
"Uh…"
Akira awkwardly scratched his head. Apparently, giving up authorship had backfired—it raised Shiori’s impression of him far too much.
But now, his bet with Class Rep was once again in jeopardy…
Panicking slightly, Akira tried to patch things up:
"But let me remind you clearly—when you polish my novel, don’t arbitrarily add your own twists and turns. I won’t accept any changes to the core story."
Shiori replied firmly, without hesitation.
"You don't have to worry about that, Akira-kun. I'd absolutely never do something that would ruin your original story."
All right… that didn’t work at all.
Had her feelings toward him flipped completely? How had it become so easy for her goodwill to skyrocket?
Akira suddenly found himself missing the rebellious attitude she’d originally had.
"Anyway," he sighed, "the pen name is yours."
"But Akira-kun, haven't you already decided on one? I remember seeing it beneath the title earlier…"
Shiori flipped the manuscript to the first page, finding the name printed under the title.
"Shirako… is this your pen name?"
"Kind of. It’s actually a nickname I had at home."
"Does this nickname have any special meaning?"
It had come from his name in his past life—but Akira had no intention of revealing such a secret to Shiori, so he casually brushed it off:
"Not really. I just happen to prefer 'white,' that’s all."
Actually, it was a play on words—Akira had subtly implied he preferred "himself," which wasn't exactly a lie.
"..."
But to Shiori, the words resonated differently.
Her heartbeat inexplicably quickened. Even though she knew he hadn't meant anything deeper, the listener still found meaning where there was none.
He prefers white… just like me.
Actually, the color of Shiori’s underwear made it abundantly clear—white was indeed her favorite. It was the color of paper, the blank canvas beneath every book.
But she loved black equally—the color of ink, the words themselves.
White paper, black ink… Shiroi and Kuroba…
Only together did they form the complete page.
---
This is a fan translation of 东京软饭王 by 夜幕下的鬼 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
