He stepped forward and made a little joke:
"It really is a surprise to see you at this hour."
"To be honest, I'm surprised too." Miles stood up and shrugged, then pointed at the dark circles under his eyes and gave Lorry a resentful look. "Raven, where have you been these past few days? Do you have any idea how many times I came looking for you, day and night? At least this many."
As he spoke, he held up both hands.
Uh, no wonder the dark circles under his eyes looked even worse than before... Lorry gave an awkward chuckle and said, "I went to the countryside to gather material.
"Was there something urgent, Mr. Miles?"
"Just call me Miles." Miles corrected him again, then said in a complicated tone, "It seems you don't know anything."
In my previous life, you'd have been beaten to death for keeping someone in suspense like this, Mr. Miles... But since you came looking for me, it must be about Young Roselle...
Grumbling inwardly, Lorry pointed at his front door.
"Let's talk inside."
The two entered the dining room, one after the other.
Miles sat opposite Lorry, looking as though he had lost all will to live.
"Goddess above!
"If I hadn't experienced all this myself, I really, really, really wouldn't have believed anyone could become famous with a single book in this day and age!
"You probably still have no idea, do you? Heh.
"The newspaper carrying Young Roselle sold like crazy on the third day! The heads of the underground publishing house called an emergency meeting and decided to print Young Roselle as a standalone volume!
"But they didn't have the rest of the manuscript or your contact details, so they came to me, the one who introduced you, to urge you to write more as soon as possible.
"Raven, you're a hit!"
Sold like crazy?!
Even Lorry, the author himself, was stunned. He had expected Young Roselle to do well, but he had never imagined this day would come so soon!
It's only been seven days since I sent out the manuscript...
The Emperor really is the secret to attracting an audience...
Lorry silently thanked Roselle, took a deep breath to calm his excitement, and asked the question that mattered most to him:
"Then how much can I get paid?"
"Uh..." Miles clearly hadn't kept up with Lorry's train of thought. After a moment of hesitation, he ventured, "At least five pounds, I'd say!"
Only five pounds... Lorry's first reaction was disappointment.
But he quickly remembered that five pounds was roughly equivalent to a full-fledged Nighthawk's salary and immediately realized he was being a little too greedy.
Five pounds a week means twenty pounds a month, or two hundred and forty a year, while a middle-class household earns between one hundred and one thousand pounds annually.
In other words, the income I earn from writing books even while I sleep has already put me in the middle class, and not at the very bottom, either.
And this won't stop me from earning money in other ways. Once I write the manuscript and send it out, I can just sit back and wait for the money... Having carefully worked out the figures, Lorry felt increasingly optimistic about his prospects.
He glanced across the table and saw Miles beaming, looking genuinely happy for him. All at once, he felt that this neighbor of his really was a good fellow.
After a moment's thought, Lorry asked:
"Mr. Miles, are you free today? I'd like to treat you to a meal.
"Hmm, how about an Intis feast?"
"Miles..." Miles corrected him offhandedly, pursing his lips with obvious interest. But after a moment's hesitation, he shook his head and declined.
"Never mind. They're pressing hard for more, so you should get on with the manuscript. Besides, I need to get back, catch up on sleep, and finish my own work.
"Next time. I certainly won't turn you down then."
Miles yawned, stood up, and said goodbye to Lorry.
Just then, he suddenly slapped his forehead.
"Oh, right. One more thing.
"There's an industry salon next month. Quite a few senior and middle-level publishing executives and well-known writers will be attending. We should go together.
"With Young Roselle's success, you're definitely qualified to attend. Getting to know more fellow writers and making connections will be very good for your career."
"Thank you, Mr. Miles-if I'm in Backlund, I'll certainly come along and broaden my horizons." Lorry didn't dare make a firm commitment.
He understood his priorities perfectly:
Writing was merely a way to earn money, and the purpose of earning money was to advance his Sequence and avenge that old man.
If the two ever conflicted, he would undoubtedly choose the latter.
Lorry spent the next half day catching up on sleep as well.
By the time he woke up, the red moon was already high overhead.
Lorry bought two Desi pies from a little shop on the street corner. After making do with that simple meal, he embarked on his grand manuscript-writing endeavor.
Lorry spent the following morning writing as well.
However, when he went out to a restaurant for lunch, he also stopped by the Bavart Bank to check Cyril's anonymous account.
It held a full three hundred pounds!
Lorry withdrew all the money and deposited it into his own anonymous account at the Backlund Bank. For the first time, his savings passed the five-hundred mark, reaching 530 pounds.
That included five pounds and ten soli in payment for his manuscript, not far off Miles's estimate.
"Mr. A's gathering is tonight. I can try to buy a Potion formula. If I see the person who bought the Bird's Beak, I'll call in that promise."
Suppressing his excitement, he clenched his fist and strode toward Iris Street.
That afternoon, Lorry continued working on his manuscript.
Caught up in the joy of writing, he only rose with a satisfied expression after night fell and the red moon rose, gently stretching his limbs and joints.
"This should be enough manuscript material for at least half a month.
"Next, I'll focus on investigating Baron Percival and attending more Beyonder gatherings, so I can buy the Marauder Potion formula as soon as possible."
Lorry spoke to himself, then went downstairs to change and prepare to go out.
Inside an unremarkable house in Empress Borough.
Lorry sat in the shadows of a corner, carefully reading the words on the blackboard.
No one's selling the Marauder Potion formula... After quickly scanning the board, he sighed without too much disappointment and waved a waiter over.
After writing his purchase request on a slip of paper and handing it to the waiter, Lorry said quietly, "Please ask Mr. A whether the lady who traded with me last time is attending today's gathering. If
"she's here, please tell her I'll be waiting in the small room during the free discussion session."
"Certainly." The waiter put away the note, nodded, and left.
Time passed.
The gathering soon neared its end.
Lorry had waited all evening, but the Marauder formula never appeared.
After Mr. A announced that they could talk freely, the room, previously so quiet it had felt almost oppressive, gradually filled with louder voices.
In the small room.
Lorry sat in a chair and waited patiently. The waiter had already told him that the person he had traded with last time was attending this gathering too.
Within a few minutes, the door was pushed open.
A woman around 1.6 meters tall entered in a hooded robe. Her piercing gaze locked onto Lorry's eyes, and her clenched fists creaked.
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