It might sound like I'm reminiscing about the past like a nostalgic old-timer, but there was a time when genre literature was dominated by game fantasy.
Ark, Royal Road, Blacksmith Sia ... Riding the wave of that trend, countless novels emerged.
It was literally a wave, a tsunami. At its peak, dozens of new works were released in a single month.
Game fantasy, repeating the cycle of appearing and fading from rental shops...
Perished.
A genre that disappeared from the market.
There are various reasons for this, but in reality, the genre has practically vanished, except for a few works.
Didn't the ancients call it "the flower that does not last ten days"?
Indeed, the success of genres is like waves. To put it positively, it's a trend; to put it negatively, it's a fashion.
It's also a boundary between commercial and pure art.
Commercial works adhere to trends, while pure art rejects fashion.
Commercial works cater to fashion, but pure art leads the trends.
There's no absolute superiority between the two. Both have value. Within genres, there is superiority, but there is no superiority between genres.
Anyway, I've lived half of my life as a genre literature writer, albeit briefly.
A caterpillar must eat pine needles, and a silkworm must eat mulberry leaves. Thus, I had no choice but to be sensitive to trends and research as much as possible.
Though I didn't directly research Peter Perry, in a way, it thoroughly benefited from such trends.
Thus, I couldn't help but consider these aspects for my next work.
So, the question "What do you think about recent trends or fashions?" was always in my mind.
Then, at this very moment, what is the answer? I cannot state it with certainty, but I felt it vaguely.
It's none other than adventure.
The spirit of the frontier is not unique to America. Even in cities that had gradually modernized by the end of the Belle Époque, citizens who adapted to the changing times began to experience 'national pride' by conquering rather than seeking solace in nature.
One of the prime examples is the popularity of Henry Rider Haggard's King Solomon's Mines from ten years ago.
A true classic of the adventure genre.
Of course, in recent years, works about adventure have become ambiguous, overshadowed by Sherlock Holmes and Gothic novels.
Perhaps because of this, Haggard is now working as a weekly serial writer for Tit-Bits, a competitor of Weekly Temple. Even writing strange romance novels.
But I know.
At this point, in the late 1890s, the era of adventure novels is about to return.
A big wave that will develop into Indiana Jones, Uncharted, Tomb Raider, and so forth.
The evidence is this:
—British Empire Expeditionary Force, Jackson-Hemsley, rescues a Norwegian explorer from the Arctic!
It's not a prominently featured article. Even Frederick Jackson, the expedition leader, is not widely known.
But I knew the name of the 'Norwegian explorer' mentioned in the article.
Fridtjof Nansen.
The most famous Arctic explorer and Nobel Peace Prize laureate.
Though the Nobel Prize hadn't been established yet.
In any case, this means that soon, the thrilling Antarctic exploration seasons of Amundsen, Shackleton, and Robert Scott will begin.
A flood of adventure tales and exploration records, each immensely popular.
The famous advertisement.
Wanted: Male Crew - Dangerous Journey, Low Wages, Harsh Conditions, Months of Complete Darkness, Constant Danger, No Guarantee of Safe Return, Glory and Honour Upon Success
Imagine that such a testosterone-fuelled proclamation had a competition ratio of 197 to 1.
Right now, Europe is in the Age of Great Adventures!
So why did the European empires rush to sponsor those perilous Antarctic expeditions that were not expected to yield any profit?
The reason is simple: to fulfill humanity's desire to fill in the empty spaces on maps, and to bask in national pride from achieving that feat.
And the victors of this pride are none other than Norway, America, and Britain.
But wait a minute? I'm in Britain right now?
If you know the trend is coming but don't capitalize on it, you're a fool.
So, Bentley and I were preparing to launch a new work, Dr. Dictor's Bizarre Adventures, to ride the wave of the adventure novel boom. We were in the midst of it when...
"Here you go, author."
"Oh, damn."
In a dazed voice, I saw the protesters appearing on Charing Cross Road.
To be precise, I was stunned by the 'giant Peter Perry Wickerman' they were dragging and surrounding.
What on earth is that... I don't know, it's terrifying. It looks like it could be similar to the Odaiba giant robot.
—Richard Bentley, president of 'Bentley and Son' Publishing, hear this!!
"Hear this! Hear this!!"
The leader of the protesters, dragging the Wickerman, shouted in my ears.
—We are the 'Peter Perry Finale Opposition Alliance' formed to prevent the conclusion of Peter Perry!!
—We cannot tolerate the publisher's conspiracy to end the adventures of our brother, Peter Perry!!
—We demand firmly! Swear to publish the second part of the Peter Perry Series!! Our sole purpose is that!!
—If our demands are not met, we will have to manifest our resolve like this.
With that cry, flames began to erupt from the ankles of the Peter Perry Wickerman. As if proving that heat rises, the Wickerman quickly became a fiery blaze.
The intense heat spread towards us. The smell of burning almost felt like it was scorching my face, but at that moment, it felt like the cold Siberian wind.
I was wrong...
I was arrogant. I'm an idiot. I can't read trends.
No, how do you even read that? Damn it.
"Are you okay, author?"
"I'm fine."
Yes. My characters might have turned into such a gigantic Wickerman and burned more fiercely than the forest of Iryung, but... it's still manageable for now.
The real problem is the readers making those unreasonable demands.
"Hmm."
"What should we do, author..."
Bentley, looking distressed, spoke.
Yes, I too want to cry.
"First, could you get me a coffee?"
"Oh, yes. Understood. Maria!!"
"Here."
Nodding, I took the coffee that the editor called Maria handed to me with trembling hands.
Ah, it's still hot. It was worth insisting on that every time.
After a brief moment of denial... I began to think quickly.
So, what to do about this?
Goodness, it's not like we gave a bad ending like Sherlock Holmes, or a Swordmaster catastrophe ending. It's a 'happily ever after' ending. And yet, they demand a second part?
As far as I know, no web novel has ever received such demands... I was about to think so, but then corrected myself.
Come to think of it, I had tried to pull something similar with the persimmon tree.
Moreover, in the web novel market, as long as the story ends well, authors naturally return, and many excellent works are pouring out.
In other words, readers don't need to cling to a single specific work.
But... this era is a bit different.
There aren't many works being released. Fantasy is even rarer.
And my work, with its various unique elements, is exceptionally unique.
So, a very small number of people, this time, have clung to my side.
"Let's say that this will be the end of Part 1 and the next will be Part 2. If you need more time, you can take a break and promise to come back..."
"No, that won't work."
I shook my head.
Of course, I want to ride that wind too. I want to ride it like crazy. No, I want to make a fortune from the sweet money offered by those readers waving at me to set the place on fire.
But that wind is the Knock Up Stream.
It's the stairway to heaven.
If I manage to get on it and reach the sky island, it will be fine. But if my sails... in other words, if my novel can't handle it? Then the ship itself will fall.
It will be a total disaster.
What did the authors of reapers/ninjas/pirates, who once conquered the Earth, do after completing their stories? There was nothing like that.
They tried to climb the sequel wave with all their might, but when their writing fell short, their sails ripped apart, and their work remained only as a memory, with scathing reviews in the community.
Expectations are like that. If you don't fulfill them, praise quickly turns to scorn. It's the scariest scenario.
At that time... it won't be the Wickerman burning, but this publishing house.
"After all, Peter Perry was stretched to eight volumes just to make it suitable for a short story. We can't do more."
"But, if we don't, it could affect the sales of the next work."
"Don't worry about that. It probably won't."
I sighed deeply and said.
After all, those people are my readers. They're making a fuss now because they're left with lingering feelings, but they'll eventually come back if I do well.
And while I'm not confident about writing Peter Perry 2, I am confident about future works.
Web novelists face issues with setting themes and accumulating stock, but carrying on is not a problem. That's how it has been in my past life. Writers who finish their work immediately start on the next to make a living.
So, what should I do now...
Emptying my coffee cup, I felt Bentley's anxious gaze as I tapped the desk with my fingertips.
In fact, there's only one way to quell this fire.
Time.
If I simply ignore it quietly and focus on writing the new work well, they will naturally move on to the new story.
This isn't arrogance, it's a constant.
After all, my name value seems to be established by default.
Of course, there might be some loss, but I'm not writing in an entirely different genre, like romance.
Vincent Villiers and DawnBringer have already secured a certain readership, so there shouldn't be any major issues.
But... leaving it as it is, feels somewhat wrong.
After all, they are my readers. I need to save as many as I can and transition them to the next work. If I make an extreme choice... I would never forgive myself.
After considering all possible scenarios...
"Well, then... hmm, I didn't want to use this method."
"Author?"
"Mr. Bentley."
I slowly turned to Richard Bentley Jr.
My spokesperson and editor, who had already appeared in the news numerous times as the president and face of Bentley Publishing.
"There are stories from ancient China about generals who are brilliant in strategy but have poor character."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Among them, there are stories about sacrificing sacrificial offerings to perform evasive manoeuvres."
"No, surely not."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Bentley."
I spoke with a heavy heart.
I didn't want to go this far.
"Please do one interview. Then, everything will be neatly resolved."
And the next day.
Starting with the Daily Telegraph, special editions like the following struck all of Britain, beginning with London.
"SHOCK! Hanslow Jin in Critical Condition?!"
"Is it a Reaction to the Incredible Workload?! Will London Lose Its Great Neighbour?!"
"EXCLUSIVE! Anonymous Editor M's tip! 'Hanslow Jin hasn't slept and has been working on the manuscript...' "
So began the sick leave operation.
It was the moment when the Peter Perry Finale Opposition Alliance crumbled.