Buzz—

From the rectangular box came the sound of gears interlocking and turning, accompanied by a beam of light, as everyone at Somerset’s workshop gathered around to watch in awe.

Eventually, the image of a small dog hopping appeared on the screen mounted on the wall, and murmurs of admiration flowed from the onlookers.

“So this is what animation is!”

The artisans, who had been laboring on the projection technology under Rupert's guidance, suddenly had a light in their eyes.

Until now, despite numerous explanations, they hadn’t fully grasped what kind of machine they were making.

They had thought, "If it’s like a video playback stone, then why not just use a video playback stone?" But now they realized their mistake.

“This is nothing like photos or videos! It’s something completely different.” “How can a drawing move so smoothly like that? It feels as if the drawing itself is alive.” “Now I understand why the young master insisted on creating this machine.”

The artisans immediately recognized the greatest advantage animation had over regular video.

At this moment, it was just an image of a dog, but what if that image was a dragon?

Photos and videos are restricted by time and space, but animation can break those boundaries and show exactly what the artist imagines.

For example, Rupert’s storybooks or manga depicted purely fantastical worlds, making it difficult to recreate them using traditional filming methods.

How could they bring to life the moving wooden puppet from Pinocchio, or the fictional alchemy and chimeras from The Alchemist of Steel?

But with the projector they had created, it was all possible.

Pop!

But the moment of awe was short-lived. With a small pop, the projector sparked, and smoke began to rise from the machine as it abruptly stopped working.

“No!”

Cries of despair erupted as the artisans watched the prototype they had spent two months developing finally meet its end.

“Is the problem with the film?”

“It looks like the surface of the film wasn’t uniform, causing it to jam inside the machine.”

In the midst of the panic, only Rupert and Kroon remained calm, opening the machine to inspect the damage.

Examining the charred surface of the film, they discussed the situation calmly. They had never expected the prototype to work perfectly from the start, so their reaction was measured.

Both Rupert and Kroon understood that this projector was a new invention in this world, and they expected to encounter numerous setbacks.

Had they not had assistance from the Magic Tower and the Alchemy Guild, the progress they had made in a few months might have taken them years on their own.

“Do you think we can get it to run for at least 10 minutes within a month?”

“Ten minutes… that’s both a short and long time.”

Rupert had intended to debut this projector at the closing ceremony of the Empire Academy.

Since the academy attracted talent from all over the empire, unveiling animation there would have an incredible promotional effect.

However, Kroon warned that the task would be more challenging than it appeared.

The prototype had only managed to run for 30 seconds before breaking down. Extending that to 10 minutes would require significant adjustments.

“And to top it all off, I’ve got to deal with creating a new type of book format this time.”

Kroon grumbled about the endless tasks piling up on him.

But Rupert wasn’t worried. Despite his complaints, Kroon was the type to throw himself into creating new inventions with unmatched enthusiasm, and he was already organizing the disheartened artisans to head back to the workshop and continue working.

‘We need to completely replace the equipment to make the new magazine format from scratch.’

Every time they transitioned from storybooks to manga, or from manga to magazines, the necessary tools and materials changed, causing additional challenges.

While the consistent production of storybooks and manga meant the investments weren’t entirely wasteful, the growing expenses remained a substantial concern even for Rupert.

If this animation project failed, it could potentially put a strain on his finances.

‘Still, just the idea of introducing animation to this world makes it worth it.’

This wasn’t a venture Rupert had undertaken for profit. It was more of a luxury project, one he had allowed himself after his finances had stabilized.

Rupert fondly recalled how, during his childhood, he would spend school breaks glued to the TV, watching anime on various channels.

The countless hours of anime he had watched were some of his most cherished memories, and now he wanted to leave similar memories for the children of this world.

‘I’ll leave the projector and film improvements to the team and focus on the academy and the new magazine format.’

Since the technical side wasn’t his area of expertise, Rupert resolved to concentrate on what he could manage.

 

Adrian Belmont had worked diligently since the day he entered the academy to avoid drawing suspicion.

Internally, he wished he could disregard all the empire’s nobles, but he had endured and remained cordial with them, focusing on improving his reputation.

A foreign prince—courteous and cultured. That was Adrian's current reputation, and his efforts hadn’t been in vain.

However, despite his best attempts to get closer to the Third Prince, their relationship had made little progress.

He had attended etiquette lectures and joined clubs to follow the prince, but he still had not found a chance to engage in meaningful conversation or build rapport.

In fact,

‘Adrian, are you truly giving it your best effort?’

The Third Prince, Edric Bel, had once expressed dissatisfaction with Adrian.

In the manga club, Adrian had been assigned the role of writing the script.

Since they only needed to produce a 10-minute animation, crafting a simple story hadn’t been particularly difficult.

He had adapted a scene from one of the many heroic and knightly tales he had read, and the other club members had been satisfied with his work.

All except for one—Third Prince Edric Bel.

‘Is there something you’re unhappy with?’ Adrian had asked.

‘No, your script was quite excellent, Adrian. There wasn’t a single flaw to point out,’ Edric had replied.

Adrian had barely managed to suppress his urge to ask why the prince had made such a remark then.

Edric, who was arguably the most unhelpful member of the club, had found fault with him, leaving Adrian bewildered.

‘I can’t draw, so I’m not as useful as the other members,’ Edric had said. ‘But while I enjoy practicing drawing, Adrian, you didn’t seem to be having much fun.’

Adrian had been slightly taken aback by Edric’s words.

The prince had been right. Adrian wasn’t passionate about the manga club—he had only joined it to maintain appearances, and had written the script just to meet expectations.

‘Don’t the other members seem to enjoy the work? I’d like to see you write a script that makes you happy too, Adrian.’

Since then, Edric’s words had echoed in Adrian’s mind.

What kind of story would make him happy?

Even if he could think of one, wouldn’t it just cause trouble for the other members now that work had already begun?

‘But… just this once.’

Adrian told himself he was merely writing for fun, or using his spare time to experiment, and began to craft a new story.

Music. Animation, as they were creating it, was not just about visuals—sound was also an important element.

It occurred to Adrian that a short story centered on music would suit the project well, and the ideas quickly flowed from his mind onto the page.

He hadn’t noticed, but as he wrote, his face had begun to soften into a smile.

 

"Hello, my name is Ismael!"

"Nice to meet you, I'm Lee... no, Rin."

The main branch of Yuren Trading Company in the capital city of Caldea.

Normally, the place was off-limits to outsiders, as it primarily sold limited editions of manga.

However, today, three outsiders sat in the reception room, drinking tea and chatting.

They were the winners of the “Strongest in the Universe” manga contest, invited to the ceremony that day, yet they couldn’t have been more different from one another.

One was a boy who still had the look of youth about him, and the only woman among them was a refined lady with black hair, clearly raised with noble care.

Then, there was a middle-aged man sitting at a distance from the others, wearing a dark expression.

It was an odd group, and it was hard to believe they were the winners of such a competitive contest.

"Can I call you 'sister'?" the boy asked.

"Of course, feel free to," the woman replied warmly.

The boy, clearly outgoing, continued to strike up conversation with her.

In fact, he had also tried to engage the middle-aged man in conversation earlier, but the man had offered little in return.

Meanwhile, Esteban, the head of Yuren Trading Company, watched the scene with mounting frustration.

‘I’m going to go crazy! Please, kid, just keep quiet!!!’

Esteban wanted nothing more than to sew the boy's mouth shut at that moment.

When he had heard that the contest winners had arrived for the award ceremony, he had gone out to greet them, only to be left shocked, nearly fainting.

The reason was the exceptionally beautiful woman among the winners, but it wasn’t her appearance that was the issue—it was her status.

‘Why on earth did the princess participate in the contest? And why did the young master pick her work?!’

Upon realizing that the creator of The Puppet Theater, the grand prize-winning work Rupert had so highly praised, was none other than Princess Iolin, Esteban had wanted to flee the country.

Although he was mentally berating Rupert for choosing her work, even Esteban had thought it was an obvious winner when he first saw it.

Still, no one could have expected that the brilliant creator of the piece would be the princess.

“Master, young master Rupert has arrived.”

“Quick, bring him inside!”

Esteban, who had felt like he was walking on thin ice, responded eagerly to the employee who informed him of Rupert’s arrival.

‘I’m leaving this all to you now, young master.’

Esteban decided to let Rupert handle the situation from here.

He had always felt Rupert had a strange knack for surviving these kinds of predicaments, so he was confident that Rupert would find a way out this time as well.

 

"Second prize, The Avenger. Congratulations, Dumas."

"...Thank you."

The man, who had been in a foul mood ever since entering the reception room, managed a brief smile for the first time as he received his award.

"Now, shall we have a discussion about serialization with the winners?"

“Yes.”

All three winners responded positively, but Rupert’s attention was fixed on one person alone.

‘How am I going to handle this?’

Watching Iolin, who was now carefully examining her trophy, clearly pleased with her victory, Rupert felt his head beginning to ache.

—I have an important transaction today, so I’m leaving the rest to you.

The moment Rupert had arrived at the trading company, the head of the branch had passed the baton to him and slipped away, leaving Rupert with a sinking feeling.

And sure enough, when he entered the reception room and spotted Princess Iolin sitting there demurely, he had nearly screamed.

When she smiled at him, it was like looking at the Grim Reaper.

But at this point, there was no way he could disqualify her, so he had pressed on with the award ceremony, hiding his nerves.

Now it was time to discuss serialization with the winners, so they had moved back to the reception room to continue their conversation.

“We at Yuren Trading are planning to release a new type of manga.”

“A new type?” one of the winners asked.

“Yes, we’ll be publishing manga in a magazine format.”

Rupert briefly explained how the serialization would work.

It would be unlike anything before, with multiple series published in each issue. At first, the winners didn’t fully grasp the concept, but Dumas, the former merchant, quickly saw the potential.

“That’s definitely something that will capture people’s interest. It addresses the disappointment readers have with current manga formats.”

“That’s correct, but of course, it’s not without its drawbacks.”

Rupert went on to explain that six works, including the winners’ and his own, would be serialized every two weeks.

While there were advantages to this method, there were also clear challenges.

‘It’s doable now with a biweekly schedule, but weekly serialization is a nightmare.’

To the readers, a week might feel like a long time to wait, but for the creators, a week was an impossibly short time to complete a full chapter.

It often took up to five days to create a chapter from storyboard to completion for weekly releases.

This left very little time for planning or developing the story, which often resulted in lower-quality work.

Moreover, with no breaks between chapters, artists frequently suffered from deteriorating health, and the quality of their work would eventually decline.

Rupert knew this all too well from his own experience serializing webtoons weekly back in Korea.

‘I’ll need to spend the next month working closely with them to build up enough chapters to check if they can handle the schedule.’

Especially since these winners were new to serialization.

If Rupert determined they couldn’t keep up with the biweekly schedule, he was prepared to cut his losses and move on, no matter how much he had invested in them.

“Ismael, Dumas, you’ll be staying at my workshop for the next month to work on your manga.”

Both Ismael and Dumas lived far from the Somerset workshop, and they readily agreed when Rupert asked if they could stay there during this time.

“And… Lady Rin, since it might be difficult for you to stay, could you send your work to us weekly?”

Rupert asked Princess Iolin carefully, unsure if it would even be possible for her to serialize her work while keeping her identity hidden.

Of course, if she declined, that would be a relief, but if she agreed, he would have to figure out a plan.

“That won’t be a problem. However…”

“However?”

“I would like to hear your opinion on my work.”

It was the same Princess Iolin who had once mercilessly criticized Rupert’s fairy tales.

Now, she was asking for his evaluation of her work.