A Certain Manga Artist Is About to Get More Work, but I Won't Say Who

After Jingxing was seen out by Zhenzhu, he saw the woman from the ID card standing at the door waiting for him.

A car was parked at the side gate of the company, its body stained with paint that hadn't been washed off, and two open sketchbooks were stacked on the passenger seat—it was clearly an artist's car.

The person in the Xuzhao is even more casual than the car: his hair is casually tied back, his coat is draped over his shoulders, and there are two dark circles under his eyes, as if he just crawled out of a deadline.

Well, Jingxing himself has never experienced a deadline, so the above is just his imagination.

"Jingxing?" She glanced at Jingxing through the car window, then gestured towards the passenger seat with her chin. "Get in, Lady Zhenzhu ~ asked me to take you to the World-Painting Academy."

"This is troublesome."

"Don't mention it." Xuzhao said weakly, turning the steering wheel. "Anyway, I've already given my all for you this day."

They chatted idly on the way, but didn't say much serious stuff. Jingxing pieced together the gist of her words— Xuzhao had a long-term contract with the company for serializing comics, and was under the management of the Pearl Star Consortium, so if she missed a deadline, Zhenzhu would arrest her.

"Honestly, I can't just force myself to draw when I have no inspiration; wouldn't that be irresponsible to the readers?" Xuzhao at him. "Am I right? Intellitron just don't understand human nature."

"But didn't you finish it?" Jingxing retorted, "That proves you can still finish it in time, right?"

"Tch—" Xuzhao curled his lip, "Have you forgotten you're one of hers?"

Jingxing paused for a moment, then said, "... No, I'm not an employee of the company. I just have some old acquaintance with Ms. Zhenzhu. I was fortunate to have her take care of me during this trip to Dual-Phase Paradise."

"I can tell," Xuzhao snorted. "And even though he said he was taking care of me, he still dumped it on me."

Jingxing didn't reply. He looked at the street scene passing by outside the window. The buildings on both sides were painted in bright colors, with red, yellow, blue and green covering the entire wall, and there wasn't a single clean spot. Some were covered with huge graffiti, some had posters pasted on them, and even the lampposts were wrapped with colorful Light Strips, which looked like rows of tassels when the wind blew.

There was a dry smell of paint in the air, mixed with a hint of glue. Zhenzhu was right; this was indeed a place for painters to live.

"You're a local, what do you think of the World-Painting Academy?" Jingxing asked.

"It's a good place for further studies," Xuzhao thought for a moment, then added, "But their dean is a bit eccentric."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I can't really explain it." She yawned, her voice full of exhaustion. "You'll understand when you see it."

"Speaking of which," Jingxing leaned back in his chair, "What did you get out of bringing me all this way? You seem to really need some rest."

"Tu can get a day off." Xuzhao's voice suddenly perked up. "She said that if she gets you safely to the World-Painting Academy, I can take a day off from work."

"If the deadline isn't extended, doesn't that just mean we're adding more work for the next few days?" Jingxing thought to himself.

Xuzhao turned his head, his gaze lingering on Jingxing's face for a moment, before a slow smile curved his lips, "And for me, it's not just that."

"... What do you mean by 'not only'?"

"Guess," Xuzhao said casually, turning back to look at the road. "If you can guess, I'll tell you a secret."

Jingxing opened his mouth, but ultimately swallowed the question back.

The World-Painting Academy was larger than Jingxing had imagined.

A security guard in uniform stood at the entrance, holding a cup of coffee, his eyelids drooping, as if he had been standing guard his whole life.

"We're here." Xuzhao parked the car in front of the main entrance, unbuckled his seatbelt, and said, "This is it. Get out."

Jingxing had just unbuckled his seatbelt when he heard the car door lock click open. He looked up and Xuzhao already back in the driver's seat, one hand on the steering wheel, the other waving at him, his expression one of utter relief.

"We've arrived at the World-Painting Academy. Have a pleasant study tour." With that, the hovercar sped off, its taillights flashing at the street corner before disappearing from sight.

Jingxing's "wait" was still on his lips. He stood at the Academy gate, looked at the mural on his left, then at the security guard on his right. The guard also looked at him, his gaze lingering on his face for a second, before he lowered his head and continued drinking his coffee.

"Should I just walk in? Won't I be stopped?" Jingxing complained.

But since he was already there, he took a deep breath and was about to walk toward the security guard when suddenly a hand came up from behind and gave his shoulder blade a warm squeeze.

"Hey bro, what are you doing standing here?"

Jingxing turned around. A blue-haired man was grinning at him, exuding an air of "I can be brothers with anyone."

"I--"

Before Jingxing could even speak, the other man had already put his arm around his shoulder and strode towards the security guards, saying without stopping, "Hey, this is my brother, he's new here, I'll take care of the registration later--"

The security guard raised his eyelids, glanced at the blue-haired man, then at Jingxing, and waved his hand impatiently. "Go in."

Jingxing was thus half-pushed and half-forced into the gate.

"Thanks. But—" He stopped, pulling his shoulder away from the hand, "Who are you?"

"Sampo." The blue-haired man patted his chest. "I saw you standing alone at the door, looking like luggage being unloaded from a car. I can't stand seeing others in trouble, so I just lent a hand."

"..." Jingxing was silent for two seconds, "You make me sound like I'm in a terrible situation."

"How can you call it a tragedy? It's fate that we met." Sampo smiled broadly, then lowered his voice, "Dude, first time at the World-Painting Academy, right?"

Jingxing nodded.

"What a coincidence." Sampo stepped closer and held up two fingers. "This Academy is huge. Eight out of ten out-of-towners will get lost when they come back, so you'll need a guide—a respectable person who knows every corridor, every studio, and every teacher's temperament."

When he said the word "serious," he deliberately puffed out his chest.

Jingxing looked him up and down for a few seconds. "How much?"

"Talking about money with brothers hurts feelings—" Sampo changed the subject, holding up three fingers, "30,000 Credits, transfer to the Academy today, plus a three-day in-depth tour of the Dual-Phase Paradise."

"Ten thousand."

"Twenty thousand, that's the lowest I can go,"

"Eight thousand, or I'll ask for directions myself."

Sampo looked like he'd been ripped out of his skin. He struggled for a good half minute before finally gritting his teeth and making the decision. "Ten thousand it is. What can I do? I just find you so pleasing to the eye."

Jingxing decisively pulled out his terminal, and the two exchanged contact information. Sampo's registered name was "Sampo Koski," and his profile picture was a grinning selfie with a blurry background, but it was vaguely discernible that it was a snow scene.

"Alright." Sampo put away his terminal, his steps light. "Let's start with the main gate. The graffiti here is quite interesting..."

Jingxing followed him inside, listening as he sent a message to Zhenzhu: "Xuzhao left me at the Academy gate and ran away."