Although on hold, the most troublesome issue of the composer was somehow resolved.
However, we had countless other matters to discuss.
The adaptation team, stage management, minor role auditions, and so on.
Of course, compared to what just happened, these were relatively smooth sailing.
Indeed, with more investment, even the finer details were well addressed, and this was quite satisfactory.
For example, new costumes were being made, and though imitation, newly forged prop weapons were on display.
Everything was going smoothly.
"So the next step is after the main composition is complete."
"Yes, please also take care of the minor role auditions."
With that, they shook hands and parted. And watching them was Richard D'Oyly Carte.
"Surprising, isn't it? No pointy ears. Although I was a bit surprised that he's Asian."
His son and assistant, Rupert D'Oyly Carte, joked lazily. Richard glanced at his son and said,
"Are you still on about those conspiracy theories?"
"No, but you can't help it, can you? Who would've thought the author of such a work would be Asian."
Though he was Asian, he was quite different from the other Asians Rupert knew.
Tall, relatively pale skin.
Compared to the Chinese labourers at the docks, he had an almost mystical air. Perhaps that's Orientalism?
Rupert still watched the direction he had disappeared with an intrigued look.
Despite what he said, Rupert was still focused on unnecessary things.
When will he finally get serious about running the theater...? Richard could only click his tongue and shake his head. Yet, there was a small part of him that was pleased.
Normally, his son would be fooling around with fellow actors or hiding in a corner, but at least he was here working now.
'Well, at least he's out here.'
Compared to his usual lackadaisical self, he seemed much better.
If the author kept visiting and his son kept showing up like this, it would be perfect.
'I must make this a success for his sake!'
Peter Perry is a deep and long work. This time, we're only covering a small part of it, with much more left.
If done well, his son might keep coming out.
Besides that, this play's success would be significant.
Hanslow Jin's works aren't limited to Peter Perry. Vincent Villiers and DawnBringer are also hugely popular.
If we can contract all his works, we'll be set for decades.
His conviction grew even stronger after meeting Hanslow Jin in person.
'He's an extraordinary person.'
He kept humbling himself, but that wasn't the case.
In verifying various details, he was extremely meticulous and thorough.
And it wasn't just about pushing his vision without regard for anything else.
He respected the scene, understanding the scope clearly and negotiating within that.
Talking about music was a prime example. Though he casually hummed, what he was following was clearly Wagner's established leitmotif.
Without a deep understanding of modern music, it was impossible to know this.
Of course, he merely referred to common theme songs and OSTs, and since much modern music is rooted in Wagner, it was a misunderstanding. But Carte couldn't know that.
'My son's wild theories might not be entirely baseless.'
Having worked in this industry for a long time and seen countless talents, D'Oyly Carte knew well.
What geniuses are like.
They either drown in excessive ideals, unable to reconcile with reality, or they shatter reality while pushing themselves forward.
But Hanslow Jin didn't fit either category.
He pursued ideals while grounding them in reality, realizing those ideals.
As if he lived in a future where those ideals were already reality.
'No way.'
How could that be?
Carte shook his head.
For now, there was only one thing to do. Create a work that would satisfy him, no matter what!
He smacked his son's head, who had reverted to his lazy mode, and shouted.
"We have a mountain of work, and you're still loitering here! Go and help the PR team with audition ads!"
"Ouch, Dad!"
Anyway, under Hanslow Jin's auspices, the Savoy Theatre continued to sail smoothly.
***
The next day. Bentley Publishing.
"Strauss... will he be alright? I heard he failed miserably in Germany."
Just how badly did he fail for such a reputation?
I couldn't help but tilt my head at Bentley's words.
A man who left behind such famous compositions failed so spectacularly? Is it a different Strauss than the one I know?
After pondering for a moment, I shook my head.
"Judging by his piano skills, he's the real deal. He'll be a great asset."
"Well, in that case, I have nothing more to say..."
"But are my books selling that well in Germany?"
For someone like Strauss to come all the way to London, they must be selling quite well.
Bentley nodded as he responded.
"Not just in Germany. Denmark, Austria, France, Oranje (South Africa), and recently we've expanded to India as well."
"Wow, already?"
I thought they struggled to reconnect old sales routes, but they've already secured these international publishing routes?
Seeing my amazement, Bentley laughed awkwardly and glanced at me nervously.
"Heh, heh. So, please don't abandon us, Mr. Author..."
"Come on, I wouldn't dream of abandoning you, Bentley."
So he's worried about DawnBringer.
Well, the Peter Perry series is already on its 6th volume. It will conclude around the 7th or 8th volume, and then I'll need to think about the next work.
The Strand Magazine is nice, but it has its distinct style, so it will mostly focus on those kinds of works.
Whether he knew my thoughts or not, Bentley was still fretting alone.
I smiled wryly at the sight.
"Don't worry, I'll serialize the next work in Weekly Temple too."
"Thank you! Mr. Author!"
"By the way, how's the educational book series coming along?"
"Oh, yes! Mr. Lewis Carroll has sent the second part of Arthur and the Knight of Mathematics. Would you like to check it?"
"Of course."
I grinned as I looked at the manuscript Bentley showed me.
As expected of Lewis Carroll. He had already grasped the concept and was progressing well with the story.
Maintaining his unique poetic rhythm while packing in the content, it was clear I didn't need to worry much.
"This looks good. I'll work on it and send over the manuscript."
"Yes. Ah, and Mark Twain has sent a telegram. He mentioned he successfully persuaded that scientist 'Nick' you spoke of, and he'll start writing the educational books on physics and chemistry."
"Oh..."
Though I expected it to go well, life has its uncertainties.
I couldn't help but feel delighted by this good news.
"The content, as mentioned before, will be about mischievous kids like Tom Sawyer using various scientific principles to fend off villains invading a town without adults."
It sounded like a novel version of Home Alone.
As expected of Mark Twain. Considering the American culture where even shotguns are legal against trespassers, it suited the American sensibility perfectly.
I could already envision the promotional lines.
"A book that teaches your children to defend their home alone!" or "A scientific and safe way to protect your home!"
When we talked about this idea before, Twain laughed with a boyish delight, reminiscing about setting traps near his childhood log cabin.
Given that he writes best when there's an autobiographical element, it was a perfect fit.
So, the educational novels are taking shape nicely?
"Just as you suggested, we'll proceed with creating a label for it."
"Alright, I'll leave that to you. Lastly... here's the manuscript for the latest Peter Perry. Would you mind checking it?"
"Of course. I'll read it right away."
Everything was going smoothly. Almost too perfectly.
As I relaxed and prepared to wrap up the conversation,
"Oh, and this is a fan letter for you. Would you like to read it while I check the manuscript?"
"Sure."
Fan letters... Honestly, it still felt a bit surreal.
Back in my days as a webnovel author, fan letters were a thing of the past.
If anything, I'd receive unpleasant 5,700-character emails.
So, opening a fan letter was always a heart-pounding experience.
I opened the smallest letter on top first.
With a clean cut from the paper knife, the letter revealed tiny, childlike handwriting.
The content was pure and sweet, addressed not to me, but to 'Peter Perry.' It even had cute drawings of Peter and Winky at the bottom, warming my heart.
I continued opening the letters.
Of course, there were not only Peter Perry letters. Some were about Vincent Villiers and The Knight of Mathematics.
There were messages like ' I felt relieved reading this after being mistreated by nobles' or 'My kids started studying math because of this!'
Some letters were from children at the 'Alice and Peter' foundation's daycare center.
This is why I do charity work.
As I opened each one,
"Hm, this is..."
One letter, plastered with foreign stamps and customs clearance marks, caught my eye.
Where did this come from? The sender's name was... Oh, how can I read this? The handwriting was too messy.
I decided to check the contents.
I began reading the letter carefully.
And then.
"What the..."
I unconsciously turned my head to look around. I couldn't help it.
Because inside that letter was...
The final chapter of Peter Perry, Peter Perry and Radiant Ray.
The plot, which was only outlined, was written in full detail.