Chapter 17

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 17

Chapter Title: First Volume Complete

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From that point on, everything proceeded like clockwork.

Once Ashley took charge of directing the apprentice artists, it was as if well-oiled gears had clicked into place—every task flowed smoothly.

Even Berimore and the other apprentices, who had initially looked full of resentment, were assigned roles that played to their strengths. Before long, they'd forgotten their anger and threw themselves into the work.

People with passion are something else, aren't they?

"Who would've thought Ashley had a knack for dividing up roles like this."

Sir Robid, who had inwardly seen Ashley as a sore thumb, now beamed with delight at her transformation.

"Seeing her persist like this, I couldn't just abandon the girl, could I?"

"I was worried about Sir Robid too, given your low opinion of her, but it was all for naught. Everyone has their own uses, after all."

Sir Brown and Sir Kedric chimed in as well.

And why not? Though Ashley was handling the overall direction, their own apprentices were shining in the artwork—the true heart of the comic.

Knock knock.

I watched the old masters, their wrinkled faces blooming like flowers as they exchanged compliments, a fond smile on my lips. Sensing who the visitor was, I spoke up.

"Come in!"

"Ah, hello."

Ashley stepped in, looking a bit tired but with a much brighter expression. She bowed politely.

"It's a little ahead of schedule, but... here. Safety Rules of the Haunted Duke's Castle, Volume 1, is complete."

With that, Ashley handed me a hefty tome.

The cover, bound in sleek black leather to match the story's vibe, was adorned with elaborate gold embroidery.

It already looked valuable enough to collect.

'Let's take a peek.'

I'd only provided the content outline; I had no idea how they'd adapted it.

With eager anticipation, I opened to the first page.

"Ah."

My mouth fell open in awe.

The opening spread was packed with breathtaking quality.

A chilling night sky heavy with ominous energy, gray mists that evoked gloom, and the faint silhouette of a massive castle in the distance.

And it wasn't just the art—the story hooked you, making you itch to turn the page.

The localization(?) was spot-on too.

I'd worried that ghost stories might feel too alien or tricky for people here... but clearly, that was unnecessary.

Ashley's direction, the artists' stellar skills.

All of it combined into a final product that could stand toe-to-toe with modern webtoons or acclaimed comics—no contest!

"Wh-what do you think?"

Ashley watched me anxiously.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, I spotted a few artists who'd followed her, ears pressed to the wood.

Looks like those all-nighters had forged some serious camaraderie.

I eyed the shadows under Ashley's eyes with pity, then closed the book and stood.

"We should at least have a celebratory feast."

"Pardon? Wh-what does that mean...?"

"Oh, right."

Those irregular company dinners to show they care about their workers... yeah, no way that existed in this world.

Besides, I'd always preferred rotting away at overtime alone over boozy group outings. Lately, though, I'd been working so hard I was losing my sense of self.

Shaking my head, I rephrased.

"I'll give you all a bonus. This is beyond excellent—it's perfect!"

Clap clap clap!

As I jumped up for a standing ovation, Ashley's eyes widened.

Probably because it was the total opposite of my reaction to the Chronicle of Brail last time.

"The Duke will love it. Or at least, he'll find it refreshingly novel."

"R-really?"

I meant it. We'd seen eye-to-eye before, so why not this time too?

Plus, I wanted to show him what a fulfilling job I'd done.

"In that case, I'll deliver it myself."

"...Gasp!"

A shadow strode in before I could react, looming behind me.

Liam snatched the book from my hands and smirked smugly.

How long had he been lurking?

"Did you finish reading?"

"N-not all of it, but... the Duke's the one who made this possible, so he should see it first, right?"

I hung my head dejectedly, and Liam placed the book back in my hands.

"No need."

"...Pardon?"

"The Duke said to bring it once you've read it all."

I'd wanted to savor this fun comic quietly anyway, so I replied gratefully.

"Got it. I'll finish quick and bring it right over! Actually, might as well go now."

My feet were already halfway out the door before the words were out.

"Great job, everyone! Liam, you heard all that, so don't forget the bonus!"

"Miss! I'll grab cake and coffee and head up!"

Bonita, you genius!

Heart fluttering, I headed to my room, then slowed as a thought struck me.

Liam's attitude had rubbed me the wrong way.

...He wasn't trying to keep me in check, was he?

Finally alone in my room with no interruptions, I enjoyed sweet snacks, coffee, and the comic in blissful downtime.

But even in that happy moment, my mind wandered elsewhere.

Flipping through the slim pages, I buried my face in the blanket and wailed.

"Ughhh, the quality's too good... way too good."

Keeping this all to myself? What a waste!

I'm no altruist—just a regular person with zero interest in world peace.

But still!

"Why does it have to be this wasteful?!"

Truth be told, monopolizing it after all the manpower poured into production didn't make sense anyway.

And realizing this world had a wide-open market for comics sparked something like ambition in me.

If mass appeal was the issue, I could start small—like those comic strips in old Korean newspapers.

'Plus, even here, only a tiny fraction of artists make it big.'

Meaning countless skilled ones faded into obscurity without a chance at fame.

It felt like such a shame.

Ashley might've ended up one of them without this opportunity to catch the Duke's eye.

'If I play this right, I could open doors for more artists.'

My excuses were snowballing the whole thing.

Of course, my inner voice screamed to drop it all and crash in bed. But...

I shot to my feet and muttered softly.

"What's the harm? It's not like I'm doing it myself."

They say even a dog in a confucian school recites poetry after three years? I was at beatboxing level now.

Living like a slave had taught me one thing.

Never step forward yourself.

Exposing comics—a total novelty—to people via familiar media was a solid idea.

But I didn't have to be the one to do it.

Because right here, we had...

"How unfortunate. In that case, I'll be your first patron."

"...Pardon?"

"The talented deserve their shot, after all."

...a savior for the gifted!

And I had the perfect excuse: delivering the comic.

"Bonita."

"Yes, Miss!"

"Could you ask if it's okay to visit the Duke now?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

As Bonita dashed off briskly, I didn't bother hiding my sly, scheming grin.