Chapter 97 A Miracle Worthy of Being Recorded in History

After receiving Kitahara Iwa's personal promise, Kadokawa Haruki stood up from the sofa with great agility. He first casually dusted off non-existent dust from his bespoke suit, and then buttoned it up.

For a tycoon of his stature, a verbal promise from Kitahara Iwa is more solid than any written letter of intent.

"Well then, Brother Kitahara, it's a pleasure doing business with you."

Kadokawa Haruki nodded slightly to Kitahara Iwao, his tone revealing the composure of having achieved his goal: "I will have the legal department send over the film licensing contract this afternoon."

"As for the preliminary preparation plan for the theater chain, I will personally put it on your desk by next week at the latest."

After saying that, he turned and walked to the entrance, bent down and put on expensive Italian custom-made leather shoes.

As he opened the apartment door, Kadokawa Haruki turned around, looked at Sato Kenichi sitting on the sofa, and said politely, "Editor-in-Chief Sato, I'll leave the layout and printing of the collected volumes to Shinchosha."

"Please make sure it's as beautiful as possible, because when our big movie is released at the end of the year, the physical book displays in the bookstore will need to be coordinated with the movie screen for offline promotion."

Before he finished speaking, Haruki Kadokawa strode out the door.

As the heavy, soundproof door slammed shut, the crisp sound of leather shoes in the corridor vanished completely.

After Kadokawa Haruki had completely left, Sato Kenichi closed his eyes and then let out a very slow, long sigh.

It was just a hollow verbal promise.

But this piece of the theatrical film market, which is destined to be worth billions or even tens of billions of yen in the future, has already been forcibly taken away by Haruki Kadokawa.

But Kenichi Sato felt he hadn't lost.

For a century-old literary publishing house, and for an old-school editor, this is the true soul and lifeblood of a work.

Movies will eventually be taken off the screens, and the clamor of billions in box office revenue will eventually fade away with the passage of time.

But a physical book that is printed in lead type and retains its original sharpness can lie quietly on countless bookshelves for fifty or a hundred years, becoming truly immortal.

Thinking of this, Kenichi Sato opened his eyes, letting his erratic heartbeat gradually calm down.

"Since President Kadokawa has left..."

Just then, Kitahara Iwa's voice came from across the hall, breaking the silence in the living room.

"Editor-in-Chief Sato, shouldn't we discuss the specifics of the collected volume?"

Upon hearing Kitahara Iwa's words, Sato Kenichi suddenly realized what was happening, then reached into his briefcase and took out the S-level contract that he had spent the entire night drafting.

On the black and white paper, the royalty column originally read 18%.

This was the highest limit he could negotiate for Kitahara Iwa within the existing rules and regulations of the Shinchosha, after staying up all night last night.

But at this moment, faced with Kadokawa Haruki's recent investment of 20%, this figure, which once represented the highest sincerity of a century-old shrine, suddenly seems somewhat inadequate.

Kenichi Sato knew very well that the bond between Shinchosha and Kitahara Iwa was forged through shared hardships.

However, if we back down on this most crucial royalty figure, then this sentiment will seem extremely weak in the face of absolute capital, and it will even seem like we are using a favor to ask the author to lower the price.

Therefore, Kenichi Sato looked at the contract and remained silent for two seconds.

Then, Kenichi Sato took a deep breath and said, "Teacher Kitahara."

Kenichi Sato placed his palm flat on the contract, looked directly at Iwao Kitahara opposite him, and slowly said, "I drafted this agreement last night."

"The royalty rate is 18%, which is the highest record for an S-class contract in Shinchosha's 100-year history."

He paused, his tone revealing not a hint of guilt, but rather a resolute determination: "But I cannot give it to you now."

Upon hearing this, Kitahara Iwa paused slightly, holding his teacup, and looked at Sato Kenichi with a puzzled expression.

"Shinchosha does not have the multi-billion dollar theatrical distribution network that Kadokawa Shoten has."

Kenichi Sato's gaze was extremely clear as he spoke slowly and deliberately: "But if even the last two percent of the creator's hard work is overshadowed by capital, then our so-called respect becomes nothing but empty rhetoric."

The next second, under Kitahara Iwa's gaze, Sato Kenichi suddenly stood up and bowed slightly to Kitahara Iwa with utmost seriousness: "Could you please use the apartment's phone for ten minutes? I'll go and ask the president for permission right away."

"Shinchosha must also receive 20% of the royalties from the collected volumes of 'The Cry'."

Faced with the old-fashioned editor's extremely tough stance, Kitahara Iwa was immediately stunned.

He was well aware that by finalizing this figure last night without even meeting Haruki Kadokawa, Editor-in-Chief Sato had already broken all conventions for himself.

Kitahara Iwao was well aware of the enormous price he would have to pay to challenge the president and board of directors over a mere two-point difference in royalties, given the extremely rigid, even inflexible, hierarchical system within Japanese companies.

At that moment, a hint of respect flashed in Kitahara Iwa's eyes.

Then Kenichi Sato picked up the landline next to the coffee table and dialed the direct line to the president's office of Shinchosha.

The dial tone only rang twice before the call was answered immediately.

"It's me, Sato."

"How is the situation?"

On the other end of the phone, the voice of Shinchosha president Taro Murata was calm but revealed a hint of barely concealed anxiety.

Kenichi Sato didn't waste any words and gave a very concise report on everything that had just happened in the living room.

Haruki Kadokawa's sudden hijacking, the transfer of film and television rights, and Kitahara Iwao's final decision to leave the publication rights of the collected volumes to Shinchosha.

After listening to Editor-in-Chief Sato's report, President Murata on the other end of the phone let out a long sigh of relief and said, "Well done, Sato."

"As long as the lifeline of the collected volumes remains with Shinchosha, this battle will be a complete victory for us."

"But president, there's one more thing."

Kenichi Sato gripped the receiver tightly and continued, "Haruki Kadokawa just offered a price of two million copies for the first print run, plus a 20% royalty."

As soon as Sato finished speaking, the receiver fell into dead silence.

A good four or five seconds passed before President Murata's incredulous voice finally came through: "Two million copies printed in the first print run? Does that madman Kadokawa want to use books to fill the sea?"

"Yoshimoto Banana, who dominated all of Japan last year, only managed to sell 1.6 million copies of her novel 'Tsugumi' even after a whole year, with bookstores across the country covering the entire country!"

"How dare Haruki Kadokawa spend two million yen on his first printing?"

"What gives him the audacity to utter such arrogant words?"

Rather than mere anger, President Murata's tone conveyed more of a sense of horror at the rampant capitalism of Kadokawa.

Instead of echoing the president's sentiments, Kenichi Sato continued, "President, it's an objective fact that we can't compete with Kadokawa Shoten's theatrical distribution and promotion in terms of initial print runs."

"But the royalty percentage represents Shinchosha's absolute valuation of the masterpiece 'The Cry'."

Kenichi Sato took a deep breath and said with a weighing tone, "Therefore, I strongly suggest that you also raise the royalties for Shinchosha's collected volumes to 20%."

"President, please think about it."

Sato gripped the receiver tightly, lowering his voice slightly, and said, "If we back down on these two points today, how will that madman Haruki Kadokawa laugh at Shincho-sha's poverty after he walks out this door?"

On the other end of the phone, President Murata nodded in agreement.

"Even more deadly is..."

Kenichi Sato glanced at Iwata Kitahara sitting opposite him and continued, "Teacher Kitahara is an extremely clear-headed and loyal person."

Even if he reluctantly signs the 18% contract today out of consideration for our relationship.

"But the two points we save will definitely become a rift between our Shincho-sha and Kitahara-sensei in the future."

"To ask a genius writer destined to dominate the next decade to lower his prices by using personal connections is tantamount to killing the goose that lays the golden eggs."

"Therefore, we cannot risk losing Kitahara-sensei's heart forever just to win profits from the collected volumes!"

The moment those words landed, the receiver fell into a suffocating silence once again.

Kenichi Sato could clearly sense that President Murata on the other end of the phone was currently contemplating the ultimate battle concerning the financial red lines and long-term future of this century-old company.

Twenty percent.

Even if we calculate based on an initial print run of only 300,000 copies, this royalty rate means that Shinchosha would have to give up nearly half of its net profit on every single volume sold.

If it were six months ago, when the Japanese economy was booming, perhaps this would have been something we could have gritted our teeth and agreed to.

But in this harsh winter of bursting bubbles and impending economic downturn, this huge sum of money is almost equivalent to taking a large chunk of flesh from Shinchosha's already meager winter provisions.

The silence lasted for nearly ten seconds.

Then, a very heavy sigh came from President Murata over the phone.

"You're right, Sato."

"Shinchosha's century-old reputation must not be looked down upon by Kadokawa, that businessman. And we must not let Kitahara-sensei be wronged."

President Murata's voice carried an unwavering resolve as he said, "Twenty percent."

"No need to wait for the process. Just change the numbers yourself, and we'll sign it this morning."

"Understood."

After receiving a reply from the president, Kenichi Sato put down the receiver with a sigh of relief.

Then he turned his head and looked at Kitahara Iwa, who was sitting on a single sofa, and nodded very solemnly.

"Teacher Kitahara, the president has approved it. We at Shincho-sha will absolutely not let you suffer any loss in the 20% royalty."

"Now that the royalties have been settled..."

"But before this contract is officially signed, I need to confirm one thing with you."

Kenichi Sato set aside the revised S-level contract and took out a thick planning book from the bottom of his briefcase.

As he turned to the pages of the publication, which were already covered with dense annotations, Editor-in-Chief Sato's demeanor instantly and naturally shifted from the resolute tone he had displayed during the negotiations back to a meticulous and pragmatic work ethic.

"First printing: 500,000 copies."

Kenichi Sato tapped the numbers on the paper with his pen and explained, "This is the maximum amount of space that Shinchosha can clear out for you without affecting the normal distribution of other books, given its existing distribution channels and warehousing capacity."

For a social realist novel that has just finished its run, having an initial print run of over 100,000 copies is already an extremely rare and prestigious achievement.

Five hundred thousand copies meant that Shinchosha's printing plant would have to shut down almost half of its production line and operate at full capacity solely for "The Cry".

"While it can't compare to Kadokawa Shoten's extravagant two million copies, given the current market demand across Japan, my conservative estimate is that once these 500,000 copies are distributed, the entire market will be in a state of emergency within a week at most."

Looking at the schedule on the proposal, Kenichi Sato continued, "So yesterday I went over my authority and had the printing plant prepare the paper ahead of schedule."

"Once the stock at the retail level is depleted, the second printing of 300,000 copies can be produced in as little as three days, seamlessly filling the gap in shelf availability."

Listening to Sato Kenichi's detailed report, Kitahara Iwao's gaze slowly swept over the distribution plan, which even specified the logistics turnaround time down to the hour, before finally landing on the publishing contract next to it, which forcibly crossed out 18% and handwritten down 20%.

Kitahara Iwa held his teacup, remained silent for a few seconds, and without saying any unnecessary pleasantries, simply placed the cup back on the coffee table. Then, with utmost solemnity, he extended both hands to accept the S-level contract that Sato Kenichi had crossed out and revised.

Then, Kitahara Iwa pulled out the pen next to him and signed his name very neatly at the signature line.

"The layout and promotion of the individual volumes will all follow the pace of Chief Editor Sato."

As the pen left the paper, this contract, representing the highest level of sincerity in Shinchosha's 100-year history, was finally finalized.

The official business is now concluded.

As the S-level contract was carefully put into his briefcase, the business atmosphere in the living room completely dissipated, but Kenichi Sato did not rush to get up and leave.

He then took off his glasses, gently wiped the lenses with a handkerchief, and put them back on.

When he looked up again, Kitahara Iwa noticed that the caution that belonged to a copyright negotiation expert in the eyes of this middle-aged editor-in-chief had completely faded.

Instead, there is a profound and passionate quality that belongs to a pure literary editor, stripped of all commercial calculations.

"Teacher Kitahara, the business part is finished."

At this moment, Kenichi Sato's voice carried a hint of excitement as he said, "As your editor, there's something I must tell you right now."

"The selection process for the Naoki Prize and the Akutagawa Prize, the highest honors in the Japanese literary world in the second half of the year, is about to officially begin."

Kenichi Sato leaned forward slightly, crossed his hands on his knees, and said with an extremely restrained passion, "The Naoki Prize represents the highest masterpiece of popular literature, while the Akutagawa Prize is the highest hall of fame in the field of pure literature."

"These two awards are like the two pinnacles of the Japanese literary world."

"Teacher Kitahara, the exquisitely delicate emotional texture in your 'Love Letter,' as well as the pure depiction of life, death, and missed opportunities, are absolutely worthy of knocking on the door of the Akutagawa Prize when judged by the standards of pure literature."

At that moment, Kenichi Sato's eyes shone brightly: "And now, you have written 'The Last Cry'."

"A pinnacle of social realism that perfectly stitches together the grand tragedy of the era with the ultimate narrative trickery."

"In the realm of popular literature judging, this is undoubtedly the most powerful contender for this year's Naoki Prize."

Kenichi Sato slowly said, "This means that within the same selection cycle, you have two masterpieces with completely different styles, simultaneously challenging the two highest peaks of the Japanese literary world."

Kenichi Sato gazed at Iwamichi Kitahara before him: "Although in the history of Japanese literature, there are writers who have been shortlisted for both of these awards at the same time."

"But someone like you, starting as a newcomer, has achieved such absolute dominance in both areas with this level of quality within the same year..."

"If you could win both the Naoki Prize and the Akutagawa Prize at the same time..."

At this point, Sato Ken paused, then said in an extremely solemn tone, "This is absolutely an unprecedented miracle in the entire Japanese publishing industry, one that will go down in history."