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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 24: Not at all
- Matsuda, do you even understand what kind of situation we’re in right now…?
Hashida’s head throbbed.
This latest hiatus situation had become tangled in all sorts of complications.
Sure, even if ‘Fullmetal Alchemist’ continues to gain popularity and becomes a full serialization—ultimately pushing out Ishida-sensei in the process—it still wouldn’t be Jung Junhyuk’s fault.
It wasn’t like he acted with malicious intent. On the contrary, the guy stepped in to patch the hole left by Ishida-sensei’s health issues—juggling not one or two, but practically three story arcs by page count alone.
And yet, human emotions rarely line up with cold logic.
From an emotional standpoint, given the circumstances, it would be uncomfortable—no, downright awkward—for Jung and Ishida-sensei right now.
Even running into each other by chance would lead to an awkward moment.
And Matsuda wanted to ‘intentionally’ take Jung to visit Ishida in the hospital?
The man is sick.
- Sigh… Even if Jung-sensei said he wanted to go, you should’ve stopped him. If you haven’t gone in yet, just turn around and come back.
Fortunately, the situation hadn’t yet blown up, so Hashida immediately issued a recall.
- Chief Hashida, I understand that much. Jung knows full well where he stands and how delicate Ishida-sensei’s situation is.
Matsuda continued, his voice calm on the line.
- He may be young, but you know as well as I do he’s just as mature as the rest of us.
“…That’s true.”
Hashida rubbed his forehead and nodded slowly.
Yeah… Jung had pulled some truly outrageous, unthinkable stunts—enough to make people forget that not once had he ever acted out of line or thrown a tantrum.
Maybe it was just that Matsuda had been keeping him in check. But even so, for someone so young, dropped into an unfamiliar environment, the kid carried himself like a pro.
Hashida was just about to respond when—
- WOOHOO~ ULTRA LUCKY! Got the Mikutsu-chan glasses version on the ‘first’ try!”**
Jung Junhyuk’s triumphant shout blasted through the phone.
Followed by—
- You’ve gotta be kidding me…! You damned junk gacha machine! I spun it 10 times and didn’t get her once! THIS IS RIGGED!
Matsuda’s enraged shouting came hot on its heels.
“Matsuda…”
- Unforgivable! Eat this! A 2,000-yen bomb of justice!
And just like that, Hashida’s headache came roaring back.
＊ ＊ ＊
On the way to the hospital, Jung Junhyuk and Matsuda ran into a wild gacha machine—and ended up blowing a total of 3,000 yen on it.
For the record, 2,500 yen of that was Matsuda’s. Jung only spent 500.
The real tragedy? Despite sinking all that cash, Matsuda still didn’t pull the one figure he wanted—the glasses version of Mikku-chan.
“Ugh…! Hrk... sob…”
Matsuda was in tears.
Jung gently patted him on the back and handed over a bottled drink he’d just bought from the vending machine.
“Matsuda-san, I know this probably isn’t the best time to say this… but there actually is a guaranteed method to win at gacha.”
“A guaranteed method…?”
Matsuda’s eyes lit up with desperate hope. Jung, on the other hand, looked off a little wistfully.
He took a long gulp from the bottle, then turned back to Matsuda.
“But... it’s a killer on your wallet. Honestly, I don’t even know if I should be telling you this…”
“I don’t care! If it gets me what I want, I’ll do anything!”
“…If you’re that committed, then I’ll tell you. The foolproof gacha method.”
Jung screwed the cap back on with a soft click.
“It’s simple… you keep spinning until it comes out.”
“…Keep spinning… until it comes out?”
“Yep. Just keep going. If you don’t stop until it drops, what can the machine possibly do to stop you?”
“…You’re right. If I say I’ll keep spinning until I get it…”
Matsuda muttered like he was in a trance, repeating Jung’s words.
“Gacha machine… what the hell ‘can’ you even do…?”
That day, Matsuda’s worldview was reborn.
＊ ＊ ＊
Clink—Cink—
The wind chime hanging by the window rang lightly, carried by the summer breeze drifting in from outside.
The distant hum of cicadas hung low in the air, and tree branches swayed gently, adorned with vibrant green leaves.
“Hm…”
A middle-aged man with an IV drip in his arm rested a book on the hospital bed table and quietly read.
There was a calm, composed air about him—so much so that he didn’t seem like a patient at all.
Knock. Knock.
“Ishida-sensei, um… that writer we talked about earlier just arrived…”
Takahashi, Ishida’s assigned editor, peeked in with an awkward expression, announcing the visitor’s arrival.
Takahashi meant well, always being considerate—but sometimes, like now, he made it seem like his author was some kind of ticking time bomb.
In contrast to Takahashi’s nervous demeanor, Ishida gave a gentle smile and replied—
“It’s rude to keep a guest waiting. Please, show them in.”
“Of course…”
Soon after, two guests stepped into the room under Takahashi’s guidance.
One was an editor, probably in his mid-20s.
The other—the one surrounded by all the rumors—was a very young writer.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Ishida-sensei. I go by the pen name Wakayama Jun, but my real name is Jung Junhyuk.”
He bowed politely, his manners sharp and precise—not like a kid mimicking an adult, but like an adult soul inhabiting a child’s body. (Which, well… is basically accurate.)
After Matsuda, the editor standing beside him, introduced himself as well, Ishida nodded in acknowledgment and offered his own introduction.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Ishida Kousaka. My pen name’s Ishida Kou. I’ve been wanting to meet you ever since I started hearing about you, Wakayama-sensei… or would it be better to call you Jung-sensei?”
“Whichever Is more comfortable for you. I’ve admired your work since I was little, so it’s truly an honor to meet you in person.”
It was hard to believe that this was the same mouth that had just been shouting about a ‘foolproof gacha strategy.’ Matsuda trembled with fear.
“Then I’ll call you Jung-sensei.”
“Yes, Ishida-sensei.”
“Please, have a seat.”
Following Ishida Kousaka’s invitation, Jung Junhyuk, Matsuda, and their editor, Takahashi, took seats in the chairs beside the hospital bed.
“How are you feeling?”
“As you can see, I’m perfectly fine. I could jump back into serialization this very moment.”
At that remark, Takahashi, who had been drinking water behind them, choked and started coughing violently.
“That’s good to hear. As one of your fans, I’ve been eager to see more of your work as soon as possible.”
“Getting praise like this from the young genius himself… Seems I’m still in the game.”
As the two writers spoke and smiled, both Takahashi and Matsuda started sweating nervously.
Maybe the words were genuine, but given the situation and their respective positions, there was more than enough room for alternative interpretations.
“I read your new series. Really enjoyed it. Two titles, and in terms of volume, it’s basically three—releasing all that in one week? That’s impressive.”
“I’ve only been doing my best to help fill the gap left by you and Takada-sensei.”
“And yet, you even broke the survey record. Don’t be so modest, haha.”
“I was just lucky.”
“Lucky, huh…”
Ishida repeated Jung’s final word, a bittersweet smile forming on his lips.
He was now in his late forties—approaching fifty. As he aged, his body no longer did what he told it to. He’d begun to feel increasingly distanced from the world, and from the readers.
‘Veteran author’ sounded nice, but at the end of the day, he was just an old man clinging to the label of ‘mangaka.’
And even that would soon fade. It wouldn’t be long now.
Meanwhile, look at this—this young, brilliant talent sitting before him. Even now, he seemed to be in full bloom, and there was no telling how much more he’d blossom in the future.
Ishida was barely keeping his body together, desperately dragging it along. And yet, this boy…
‘No. This isn’t right. What am I doing, letting my age get the better of me like this? Jealousy toward a child? Really?’
Shaking off the creeping bitterness, Ishida turned his eyes to his editor, Takahashi.
Noticing the glance, Takahashi stood and gestured to Matsuda.
“We didn’t even offer our guests anything to drink. Matsuda and I will run down and grab something.”
With that, the two quietly left, and only Jung and Ishida remained in the hospital room.
The editors, in their own way, had feared that Ishida wouldn’t take kindly to Jung. But that couldn’t have been further from the truth.
If anything, that kind of pity would have been more insulting.
Ishida Kousaka had been in this industry for a long time. He had his own pride.
If this was all it took to bring him down, then even in perfect health, he wouldn’t have lasted much longer anyway.
“…Sorry, Jung-sensei. Did I make you uncomfortable?”
“Not at all. If anything, it’s an honor for a fan like me to have this moment to talk with you one-on-one.”
Jung had clearly noticed they’d been left alone on purpose, and yet without the slightest discomfort, he answered warmly.
Despite his young age, he was sharp. He knew how to read the room—and more importantly, he knew how to speak with kindness.
Looking at Jung Junhyuk, Ishida suddenly felt a wave of curiosity.
A kid this perceptive must already understand the situation. He must know the weight of their respective positions.
So why come here himself, knowing full well how awkward this could be?
What was going through the mind of the boy who had burst into the industry like a comet, now hailed as a genius?
Driven by that curiosity, Ishida asked something he normally never would have. A question born more from impulse than intent.
“Jung-sensei… do you pity me?”
A writer whose talent had run dry.
A man who might never return from this hiatus.
Someone soon to be overshadowed by a rising star.
Is that what you think? That you pity me?
Realizing the weight of his own words, Ishida opened his mouth to take them back—
But Jung answered before he could even try.
“Not at all.”
His voice was calm. Certain.
“I don’t pity you, Ishida-sensei. Not even a little.”
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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