I am the Entertainment Tycoon Chapter 997: Memory Fantasy and a Max Rookie Contract

Kazu let out a happy smile as she watched Minamoto systematically unpack the heavy stacks of content from his bag. She could clearly see that this young man had poured countless hours and relentless effort into this story. To a seasoned editor like her, this dedication meant everything; it proved he deeply valued his creation and would continue to write it with genuine care and love.

In the publishing industry, one of the most critical factors an editor looks for when signing a new author is an authentic passion for their work. If a creator is motivated solely by money and fame, there is a dangerously high probability that their future output will suffer a massive dip in quality once the initial novelty wears off. Minamoto, however, possessed the raw devotion of a true artist.

"That’s fantastic, Minamoto-kun!" Kazu said, her warm smile easing the remaining tension in the room. "Why don’t you walk us through the trajectory of the story you’ve planned? Introduce us to your world, and we will analyze its direction together."

Minamoto swallowed hard, the warmth in Kazu’s voice slowly melting the ice in his veins. He reached into the stack of notebooks and laid out three heavily detailed character reference sheets, alongside a sprawling, hand-drawn map of a cityscape that closely resembled a darker, more gothic version of Elffire City.

"I... I haven’t settled on a permanent name for the manga yet," Minamoto admitted, his voice starting out shy and quiet. He rubbed the back of his neck. "But the story is a drama and urban fantasy. The core concept... it’s about a world where human memories are concrete, physical entities. They form the magic axis of the entire universe."

As he began to explain the mechanics, the hesitation in his posture vanished. His eyes caught the light, and his voice steadied, rising with an unmistakable, raw enthusiasm. He flipped open a notebook to a beautifully inked spread.

"In this city, there are sorcerers known as ’Remembrance Weavers,’" Minamoto explained, pointing directly to a panel depicting a young protagonist with hollow, tired eyes—a character whose expressions bore a striking, poignant resemblance to Minamoto’s own weary reflection. "They don’t cast spells using elements. They use the emotional weight of their own memories as fuel. A joyful memory can create protective barriers, but a deeply traumatic, painful memory... that triggers catastrophic, destructive magic."

The senior editors leaned in closer, captivated by the intricate linework. The layout showed the protagonist standing in a rain-slicked alley, a spectral aura of golden thread unraveling from his temples to bind a looming, monstrous shadow creature.

"The protagonist lost his family at a young age," Minamoto continued, completely lost in his own world now, his fingers tracing the panels with reverence. He was drawing directly from the well of his own tragic life, infusing the fiction with the very real pain of his parents’ death and his grandfather’s fading health. "To defeat the dark entities plaguing the urban underbelly, he has to systematically burn away his own memories. The stronger the spell he casts, the more of his past he forgets. My vision is a tragedy plot; by the time he saves the city, he will completely forget the faces of the people he loves most. He will become a stranger to his own family. I can even expand from that as we can establish an organization that wants to explore bad deeds to produce powerful bad memories, and then..." He started to talk for a long time about all the ideas he had for the manga.

The editors listened with rapt attention, their eyes darting between Minamoto and the panels laid out across the table. It was only after a few minutes of absolute silence that Minamoto suddenly snapped back to reality, realizing just how long he had been talking.

"I’m sorry," he apologized quickly, his posture tightening once more. "I didn’t mean to speak for so long."

"Don’t apologize at all, Minamoto-kun," Kazu said, her calming smile instantly putting him at ease. "Your ideas and your passion are exactly what we want to hear in this room."

The young man heaved a massive sigh of relief, the tension draining from his shoulders. He looked at Kazu and the rest of the editorial board, his eyes gleaming with quiet hopefulness. He desperately wanted them to accept his work.

Turning back to the storyboards, the editors continued their careful analysis. They were deeply struck by the sheer emotional gravity of his premise. Even though their trained eyes could still spot technical rookie mistakes, the raw potential hidden within the layouts was undeniable. The pages shifted seamlessly from explosive, supernatural clashes to quiet, heartbreaking domestic scenes—a grandmother staring helplessly at a grandson who no longer recognized her, and an old man desperately trying to hold onto his identity.

It was an urban dark fantasy, but its beating heart was a beautifully raw, human drama. Furthermore, Minamoto’s distinct, heavily shadowed drawing stroke provided a dark, gritty atmosphere that matched the genre beautifully.

Kazu leaned back slightly, exchanging low, murmured words with the senior editors. They nodded in unison, their expressions completely aligned. It took them less than a minute to finalize their decision, sticking perfectly to the contingency plan they had established before Minamoto walked through the door: if the author’s vision and backlog showed the same immense promise as his initial submission, they would offer him the absolute highest-tier rookie contract in the company’s arsenal.

Turning back to the young man, Kazu leaned forward, resting her hands on the polished table.

"Minamoto-kun," Kazu began, her tone carrying a heavy weight of professional respect. "We absolutely love your work. Your story is incredibly compelling, and your passion leaps off every single page." She paused slightly, tapping the edge of his manuscript. "Now, to be completely transparent, the art and layouts do have several technical mistakes on them. The story structure itself still needs a bit of polishing, and—"

A sudden spike of panic surged through Minamoto. His heart dropped into his stomach, his breathing catching in his throat as his mind immediately expected the worst. They’re going to reject me, he thought, his palms instantly growing cold. I failed.

"—but the story itself has an undeniable, spectacular potential," Kazu continued smoothly, her warm voice cutting right through his rising terror and calming him down completely. "Every rookie makes these exact mistakes, Minamoto-kun. That is precisely why editors exist—to help you fix them. We believe in your vision. Therefore, on behalf of Fuji Jump Co., we want to officially offer you a rookie mangaka contract."

Minamoto blinked, the lingering panic instantly dissolving into a wave of sheer, breathtaking disbelief as Kazu slid a crisp, official document out of her main folder.

"These are the benefits and conditions we are offering," Kazu said, her smile warming the room. "This is the absolute highest-tier contract we have for rookie authors. From this alone, you can see just how much we value your potential."

Minamoto could barely register her words. His mind was completely overwhelmed, spinning in a loop of utter disbelief.

Did I actually do it? he thought, his chest tightening with a mix of shock and confusion.

Attempting to ground himself, he focused on the crisp pages of the document, reading through the conditions they were offering. But as his eyes scanned the text, his shock only deepened. While there were several standard legal clauses, a few specific benefits struck him with the force of a physical blow:

Veteran Rates from Day One: He would receive $150 per page for every submitted Chapter. This was an unprecedented starting rate reserved exclusively for veteran authors. Normal rookies typically started at $100 per page.

Contract Sign Bonus and Allowance: A bonus related to him signing the contract amounting to $5,000. The publishing company would provide a maximum initial setup grant of $5,000 to ensure he could immediately purchase top-of-the-line digital drawing tablets and hardware. In the end, he would received 10 thousand dollars.

Assistance and Dedicated Workspace: Fuji Jump would grant him private studio space inside the company building to work. They would also provide professional assistants to handle backgrounds and tones, alongside a senior editor to guide, correct, and mentor him through his rookie mistakes.

The document also outlined favorable terms for merchandise copyrights and volume royalties. Though the complex legal jargon flew slightly over his head, the numbers made one thing perfectly clear: the terms were incredibly generous.

"Minamoto-kun, you don’t have to sign right this second. Please, take this copy home and think about it for a few days," Kazu said gently. "But I truly hope that when you make your decision, I’ll be welcoming you to the Fuji Jump family."

Minamoto nodded automatically, numbly gathering his things. He barely even remembered how he said his goodbyes, collected his backpack, or walked out of the room. His thoughts were entirely consumed by the contract. Moving on pure autopilot, he unlocked his electric bike and drove in a complete daze until he spotted a quiet coffee shop a few blocks away.

It was only after taking a burning mouthful of black coffee that the fog in his mind finally cleared. He needed to verify what he was looking at.

Pulling out his phone, he began frantically researching standard manga industry contracts and rookie rates on internet forums. The more he scrolled, the wider his eyes became, and a profound wave of euphoria washed over him. Fuji Jump hadn’t exaggerated in the slightest. The terms they had laid out on that mahogany table were indeed a golden ticket—the absolute best treatment an unproven author could ever hope to receive.

Staring at the contract sitting next to his coffee cup, Minamoto’s eyes ignited with a brilliant, unyielding light. The path forward was clear. He was ready to make the decision that would change his life forever.