Sogo Doma Was Quite "Terrified"

The Japan Mystery Novel Appreciation Meeting.

That was what it was called, no question.

On the day of the meeting, Sogo Doma arrived a little late because of something he had to do (make a lunchbox for some useless Imouto). Luckily, these get-togethers were only formal in name, and he wasn't the only one who arrived late.

It was called an appreciation meeting.

But in reality, it was just a bunch of people who knew each other chatting and shooting the breeze. They were pretty high-status, though—for writers in Japan, as long as you weren't a light novelist, it was still a pretty enviable profession.

"Ah, Teacher Kimura's Flowers and Blades captured the state of Japan today.

"Teacher Suzuki's work isn't bad either. That book, Wailing, not only captured the final cry humanity could make when it had endured more than it could bear, but also captured..."

"You've forgotten Teacher Natsume?"

Those were all examples of traditional literature.

Still, it was pretty bizarre to see a bunch of mystery writers discussing traditional literature. In that atmosphere, it seemed like if you didn't bring up a few classics, people would look down on you...

Sogo Doma had been in the room for a few minutes. He'd kept a low profile and stayed quiet, but he was utterly baffled.

"Excuse me, isn't this the mystery novel appreciation meeting?" Sogo Doma raised his hand and asked the group of mystery writers who were still discussing traditional literature.

If you don't understand something, ask. It's a good habit!

Silence. Silence was the order of the day. A few authors' expressions changed slightly.

Then—

"Hahaha..."

"Teacher Ishibata's The Second Page's Slaughter is the true representative of the mystery genre!"

"Teacher Kanzaki's Wasteland is also a major work!"

"What about Northern Sun Manhunt?"

"Ah, that's a pretty good work too," someone said, stroking his chin.

The group started making awkward small talk, all the while cursing inwardly: Who the hell is this guy who can't read the room?

Who didn't know this was a mystery novel appreciation meeting? But compared to mystery novels, traditional literature was obviously more prestigious...

It was like everyone else was discussing Beethoven, and you started talking about Cai Xukun...

Others casually brought up Symphony No. 5, while you launched into singing, dancing, rap, and basketball.

The same principle applied here.

In Japan, traditional literature stood far above mystery novels. Before the meeting started, discussing traditional literature clearly sounded more sophisticated and highbrow.

There was no helping it. In literary circles, traditional authors often looked down on mystery writers, and mystery writers looked down on light novelists—even the authors themselves thought that way, let alone anyone else.

Otherwise, they wouldn't have been discussing traditional literature so enthusiastically.

Of course, that was all just for show—

For instance, the guy discussing Beethoven with you might actually be following Xiaoming, while the guy who brought up Symphony No. 5 might listen to Two Wives and One Man in private.

And the guy talking about singing, dancing, rap, and basketball might sit down and play Chopin's Nocturne.

After all, a guy who looked like a slob might be wearing the same underwear as Jack.

So these people who brought up classics at every turn and talked about art all the time might well have been reading Playboy and indulging in their fantasies in private.

Sogo Doma didn't think much of people like that. He especially couldn't stand those who acted cultured in public but read Playboy for their fantasies. If he ran into one, he'd confiscate the magazine. He definitely wouldn't read it—after all, he was a highly virtuous person...

Of course, that wasn't the main reason Sogo Doma had spoken up. The main reason was that he couldn't understand what these people were talking about.

How long had it been since he'd come to his senses? How was he supposed to read the classics of this world?

At first, he'd thought that a mystery novel appreciation meeting would probably just be a group of writers getting together to play deduction games, or at most discuss a few popular mystery novels.

So Sogo Doma had crammed in some reading on the mystery novels of this world. Honestly, he'd nearly cried. His excellent powers of deduction meant he could often figure out who the murderer was halfway through a book.

Once or twice was fine, but after he'd spoiled seven or eight books for himself...

Sogo Doma: "Rage (ノ｀ー′)ノ~~┻━┻"

What the hell was this?!

It was just like before he'd crossed over, when he'd watched Detective Conan and someone had drawn a red circle around a person and written, "This is the Black Organization guy." Thanks a lot, he'd thought. At least they didn't tell me outright that he was the murderer.

Suppressing the stream of curses in his heart, Sogo Doma flipped through more than ten mystery novels in a row. By the time he finished, he felt like there was nothing left to live for.

There was no helping it. Mystery novels relied on suspense to draw readers in. How much literary depth could you expect from them? Maybe there were mystery novels like that, but they were usually a breath of fresh air in the genre. If the plot didn't fall apart, they'd definitely cause a sensation in the industry.

Those were the ones you didn't even need to read. You just had to agree with everyone else.

Besides, novels like those would never be discussed for long. Their results were too good, and talking about them always made people feel inferior. So you said a few words to show that everyone had mentioned them, without giving anyone a chance to make you look bad.

Those were all the things Sogo Doma had considered and prepared for.

Yet after all that preparation, the meeting had turned out like this:

"Ah, Teacher Kimura's Flowers and Blades captured the state of Japan today."

Sogo Doma: "@_@"

Who the hell is this guy? And what the heck is Flowers and Blades*?*

"Teacher Suzuki..."

Sogo Doma: "@_@"

Wait!

He needed a moment. What did mystery novels have to do with the unbearable weight of human experience? And wasn't "a cry" a bad way to put it?

At that, Zhou Shuren fixed him with a death stare.

Come to think of it, had he gone to the wrong meeting room?

He looked up at the banner: Japan Mystery Novel Appreciation Meeting. He hadn't gone to the wrong room.

After listening for a few more minutes, Sogo Doma couldn't sit still. At that moment, he felt like a ha... no, a South China tiger that had wandered into a pack of wolves.

He was already young... twelve or thirteen, maybe? Surrounded by a bunch of adults, Sogo Doma felt himself trembling. He was even so nervous that he yawned.

In this situation, he didn't dare interrupt them—not that he knew what the hell they were talking about anyway.

It was precisely to avoid that feeling of fear that Sogo Doma had timidly spoken up and raised his hand to ask a question.

Ah, people really did have to bravely take the first step.

Look at that—they'd finally started talking about something relevant.

Hearing some titles he recognized, Sogo Doma felt much better. His fear had eased considerably, and maybe he could even join in the discussion.

Wasn't this much better?

Just as he was thinking that, the topic changed again. The bigwigs who'd been engrossed in their conversation felt that they'd been interrupted. First, they asked an author they knew nearby, "Do you know whose kid this is?"

They all shook their heads.

Next, they began asking the staff.

The staff member looked just as confused. As far as he could remember, none of the guests had brought a child today.

"That's impossible. If no one brought a child, where did that kid come from?"

The staff member: "..."

He didn't know either, but in the service industry, you had to find an answer even when you didn't know.