Of course there are geniuses in this world—there's no doubt about that.
But what truly earns people's admiration… is when someone who is a genius still works even harder than everyone else.
In Nanako's eyes, that first draft Lin Yu completed just now was already more than good enough to be submitted, thanks to its compelling plot and narrative flow.
Yet Lin Yu wasn't satisfied. He kept redrawing it, striving for a version that he could truly call perfect.
That kind of focus—of dedication—carried with it a certain quiet charm.
They say people are most attractive when they're serious about something. Turns out, that's a universal truth—no matter what world you're in.
Compared to Nanako's quietly admiring gaze, Kanda Torin's expression nearby was… well, let's just say it was borderline intense. If their roles were reversed, anyone seeing her stare like that would probably call the cops for stalking.
Thankfully, Lin Yu was fully immersed in his drawing and didn't notice a thing.
He spent the entire quiet morning, up until customers started coming in, painstakingly redrawing the same page over and over.
With each attempt, the quality steadily improved. It wasn't drastic yet, and it still didn't meet Lin Yu's standards—but the lines had grown smoother, the pen strokes more refined. It was clear progress compared to his first draft.
Finishing one last stroke, Lin Yu looked at the page in front of him and shook his head slightly. Still not quite there.
But he knew that without any popularity points yet, this was the only way to train his drawing skills—through sheer repetition. Once Inuyasha actually started serialization and he gained popularity, he could finally upgrade his system and save himself this trouble.
Clicking the cap back on his pen, Lin Yu placed it on the desk and leaned back, stretching. After focusing for so long, he was feeling the fatigue settle in.
Just as he relaxed, a slender hand appeared beside him, holding out a cup of warm tea.
"Thanks…" he murmured, instinctively taking it before looking up.
Nanako sat next to him, smiling warmly as she carefully organized the "discarded" drafts he had tossed aside earlier.
It was clear now—she had fully embraced her role as his personal editor.
"Is this the finalized version, Lin-kun?" she asked gently, glancing at the draft in front of him.
"Not yet," Lin Yu replied with a smile, handing her the page. "I still need to tweak a few things. Some small details aren't quite there yet."
Nanako studied the draft in her hands. The fluidity of the lines, the careful composition—it was already a solid piece of work, especially compared to his earlier versions. She hadn't expected Lin Yu to set such a high bar for himself.
Her gaze softened with genuine admiration.
To stand out in a sea of aspiring mangaka, raw talent wasn't enough. This level of dedication was what truly made someone exceptional.
It was hard not to be drawn to someone who worked this earnestly.
"These drafts…" she began.
"If it's not too much trouble, help me get rid of them," Lin Yu said with a chuckle. "They're just practice."
Nanako glanced down at the stack in her hands, then smiled and nodded.
"Leave it to me. I'll take good care of them."
Rolling the pages up, she tied them neatly with the hair tie from her wrist.
Lin Yu didn't say much—just glanced at the time, then got up and headed toward the back kitchen to change.
"It's about time. I'd better get ready for work."
Nanako nodded and carefully placed the drafts in her messenger bag as though they were rare treasures.
Any lingering doubts she'd had were now completely gone. After witnessing Lin Yu's raw drawing speed firsthand, she wasn't worried about deadlines at all.
She'd met plenty of mangaka, but none of them could even come close to Lin Yu's output.
If he weren't so strict with himself, he could probably finish an entire chapter in a single day—maybe even less.
If other manga artists saw this, they'd be crying and begging for a pair of hands like his.
People tend to envy the high earnings of successful manga artists, but when the deadline's looming and the pages aren't done… yeah, breakdowns are real.
Nanako knew. She'd seen her dad, Ohara Shijirou—who acted all high-and-mighty in the editing office—completely fall apart at home, clutching his head in despair over writer's block.
Compared to that…
Tch. It really does prove the old saying true:
"Comparing people just makes you miserable.
Comparing goods makes you throw the old ones out."
No comparison, no heartbreak.
Good thing tentacle culture wasn't a big thing in Japan right now… otherwise, Nanako might've slapped a "tentacle monster" nickname on Lin Yu already.
Now that she was confident in his speed, she stopped worrying about the deadlines. What did concern her, though, was whether Lin Yu's body could handle this kind of workload.
Exhausting his physical energy during the day and his mental energy at night—standing or sitting all day long. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, his current lifestyle wasn't exactly ideal.
As she watched Lin Yu tying on his headscarf in preparation for his sushi shop shift, Nanako fell deep into thought.
Other editors were always chasing after lazy artists, begging them to put in some effort, practically ready to tie them to a chair at knifepoint.
And yet here she was, feeling the urge to tell Lin Yu to slow down and take a break.
Maybe this first genius she'd discovered really was a bit different.
Of course, Lin Yu had no idea his morning performance had stirred up so many thoughts in his editor's heart.
If he could, he would love to live an easier life.
But right now, the conditions just didn't allow it.
Success was still far off—and he had no choice but to keep pushing forward.
The afternoon passed in a blur. Lin Yu continued redrawing the same page multiple times.
His hands felt smoother, his lines more confident.
At this rate, he'd probably have the finalized version of Chapter 2's first page ready by tonight.