I am the Entertainment Tycoon Chapter 992: Ink, Exhaustion, and A Grandfather’s Clarity

Monday, May 24th.

It was just another routine day in Elffire City. Crisp white clouds drifted across the sky, and the gentle spring sun bathed the streets in warmth. Like any bustling metropolis, the city was fueled by everyday citizens living quiet, predictable lives.

They worked as salespeople, cashiers, waiters, and couriers. Although these jobs were modest, the economy of Sakura Abode ensured these workers earned enough to live comfortably and securely.

Yet, a select few yearned for more. Their ambitions refused to be stifled by the rigid boundaries of their daily routines and life circumstances. They needed only a single spark, a solitary opportunity to break free and soar.

Cutting through the urban hum, a small electric bike zipped along the crowded avenues. The rider wore a long-sleeved shirt and trousers, a heavy delivery backpack strapped tightly to his shoulders. Sweat beaded on his forehead beneath his helmet as he repeatedly glanced at the digital clock on his dashboard; his remaining time for the next drop-off was rapidly ticking away.

At twenty-two, Minamoto Ichino was already intimately familiar with hardship. Life had a habit of delivering heavy blows just as he managed to find his footing.

The first tragedy struck at age twelve when his parents died. Taken in by his grandparents, the trauma left him adrift. Throughout his teenage years, he neglected his studies out of quiet rebellion, leading to poor exam scores and no college prospects after high school. But a routine hospital checkup quickly shattered his teenage apathy: his grandfather was diagnosed with early-stage Alzheimer’s disease. The news shook Minamoto to his core. His grandparents had sacrificed everything for him, and now, his grandfather was destined to slowly and painfully forget him. Minamoto refused to let the old man’s final memories of him be those of an ungrateful brat.

He immediately turned his life around. Minamoto took a job as a delivery courier and enrolled in a local community college. Though modest, the school boasted an excellent faculty. Seeing his grandson’s newfound determination brought an unmistakable glow of happiness back to his grandfather’s face. That joy was all Minamoto wanted: to become a grandson worthy of pride before the shadows of illness took over completely.

Four years flew by. Minamoto managed to graduate, and the memory of his grandparents beaming as he held his diploma made every sleepless night worth the effort. For a brief moment, the future looked promising.

Then came the next blow. Shortly after graduation, his grandfather’s condition worsened, requiring constant daytime supervision. Unable to afford a professional nurse, his grandmother had to quit her job to become a full-time caregiver. Suddenly, the entire financial burden of the household fell solely on Minamoto’s shoulders.

To cover mounting medical bills and daily living expenses, he began working seven days a week without a single day off. Yet, despite the exhausting routine and heavy responsibilities, a singular ambition kept him going. Deep down, his ultimate dream still burned brightly: to write and publish his very own manga.

Even with all of his work, he still took one hour of his time before sleep to draw the manga. This has been going on ever since he reawakened his passion for drawing at his community college. That’s why he chose Art as his major.

During these years of relentless hardship, drawing was the only thing that kept him going. Lately, however, the exhaustion had become a heavy weight, and his mind was beginning to fracture under the stress of prolonged working hours. Last night, for the first time in years, his sketchbook remained closed, and he hadn’t drawn a single line.

Minamoto forced himself to focus on the road as the midday heat gave way to the cool air of dusk. His deliveries grew heavier as the hours wore on, but he kept moving. He navigated tight alleys, climbed endless flights of stairs, and ignored the burning ache in his legs. Every drop-off was a battle against the clock and his own failing energy. By the time the city skyline lit up with neon lights, his body was running on pure adrenaline.

The hours blurred together. It was past eleven o’clock when he finally checked in his final delivery at the depot. His hands shook slightly as he turned the key to his electric bike for the final ride home. The streets of Elffire City were mostly empty now, quiet save for the distant hum of night traffic.

When Minamoto finally unlocked the front door of his home, the quiet house smelled faintly of medicine and cheap tea.

His grandmother was waiting up for him in the dimly lit kitchen. As he stepped inside, he saw his grandma waiting awake for him just like she did every day.

"I’m home." He said with a weak smile.

"Welcome home, Ichino-chan." She greeted him with a warm smile, immediately taking his heavy delivery bag from his shoulders. But beneath her welcoming expression, her eyes betrayed a deep, aching helplessness. She looked at his pale face and the dark circles under his eyes, knowing that her grandson was burning away the best years of his youth just to keep their fragile household afloat.

Minamoto took a long, hot shower to wash away the day’s grime before sitting down to the dinner his grandmother had kept warm. Starving from the endless hours on the road, he ate with quiet relish.

They talked softly over the meal. He asked about his grandfather’s condition, and she asked about his day. This brief late-night window was their only chance to connect, as his grueling schedule kept him out of the house from dawn until near midnight.

His grandmother watched him with heavy, sorrowful eyes. Several times, she parted her lips to speak, only to hesitate and look away. Minamoto noticed her inner struggle but pretended not to. He knew exactly what she wanted to say: Stop working so hard. Take a break. But whenever she brought it up, his answer was always the same—taking care of them was his duty, and nothing else mattered. They had replayed this unspoken argument dozens of times over the past year.

Once he finished eating, Minamoto kissed his grandmother’s cheek, hugged her tightly, and said good night. She watched his slumped shoulders disappear down the hallway and let out a heavy sigh.

Entering his bedroom, Minamoto’s gaze drifted to his desk. For years, it had been his sanctuary, the place where he faithfully drew his manga every night before sleeping. Now, he looked toward his bed.

Maybe it’s time to give up, he thought bitterly. At least I’ll get an extra hour of sleep.

Just as he sat down on the mattress, a soft knock rattled the door.

"Grandma? Come in," he said, turning.

The door swung open, but it wasn’t his grandmother. It was his grandfather.

Minamoto scrambled to his feet, flustered. "Grandpa! What are you doing up? Grandma said you were fast asleep." He hurried forward to support the elderly man.

Because of his relentless work hours, Minamoto rarely got to see him, and it broke his heart that the old man’s memory was slipping away more and more each day.

"What? Can’t a grandfather come talk to his grandson?" the old man huffed, his voice flashing with its old defiance. "You brat, I’m still your grandfather, even if I forget things sometimes. Now, help me sit down."

"You’re right, Grandpa. My mistake," Minamoto replied, a genuine smile breaking across his face. It felt like the most precious scolding in the world.

Minamoto recognized this rare gift: a lucid moment where his grandfather’s sharp mind and memory returned fully. These fleeting interactions made every ounce of his exhaustion worth it. His grandfather had always been a stubborn, opinionated man who taught Minamoto everything he knew, often delivering tough love along the way.

They sat side-by-side on the edge of the bed. The old man’s penetrating gaze scanned the room before locking onto the dark, neat desk.

"Aren’t you going to draw your manga tonight?" he asked.

Minamoto lowered his head, forcing his voice to remain steady. "I’m just tired today, Grandpa. I can always draw tomorrow."

The old man frowned slightly. "But I noticed you didn’t draw yesterday, either."

Minamoto nearly choked on his breath. He had no idea his grandfather was tracking his routine, let alone remembering it despite his worsening condition.

Looking away to avoid his grandfather’s eyes, Minamoto muttered, "I’ve just been exhausted lately, that’s all."

The old man watched him silently for a few long seconds, then let out a slow sigh. "I-chan, if you truly want to walk away from this dream, I won’t stop you," he said softly. Then, his posture straightened, and his voice shifted into a stern, booming tone. "But if that dream still burns inside you, I refuse to stand in your way. I will not have my final years marked by the guilt of ruining my grandson’s future!"

Minamoto looked at his grandpa with wide eyes as his words reverberated inside his mind.