"So, which publishing company are you from?"
"My apologies for the late introduction. Here's my card."
The reporter smoothly pulled out a business card from the case at her chest, placed it on the table, and slid it toward me. At the same time, she reached into her handbag and took out a magazine.
"I write articles like these."
On the back pages, past a sealed gravure section and some questionable-looking onsen report articles, her name was printed.
"Yotsuba Publishing – Investigative Journalist, Kanako Doi."
"I see, that's pretty straightforward."
She just taught me the importance of bringing a portfolio to an interview.
"By the way, since you were photographed and all… those pictures will probably be used in various ways. Are you okay with that, Hisui?"
Misago whispered, glancing away hesitantly.
(How exactly are they planning to use them?)
Even though I could guess, I wanted to hear her say it. The smug grin combo was perfect for moments like this. But I let it slide.
"I don't really care how my pictures are used."
I made it clear I was aware. They would probably be used for all sorts of things, but as long as I wasn't personally affected, I didn't mind.
"As long as it doesn't cause any trouble for this inn or for Misago…"
Misago blinked in surprise at my words. After a brief pause, she broke into a wide, confident smile.
"Well then, I'll handle everything from here."
"Sure, do as you please."
Hearing my answer, Misago took a deep breath.
"This man, Hisui, is our inn's poster boy. He is under our protection, so all further negotiations will go through me."
With that, Misago gestured to a waitress, who brought over a business card case—not her own, apparently.
She handed a card to the reporter, who accepted it politely.
"First things first, what kind of pictures did you take? Show me."
The reporter obediently placed her smartphone on the table. She scrolled through the photos, showing them one by one.
Misago's face reddened slightly.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. They're not that lewd, anyway."
All the pictures were fully clothed. Even if someone tried to see them that way, they'd have a hard time.
"...Alright, we'll call it safe."
There was a significant pause before she said that, meaning something in there made Misago uncomfortable.
The reporters visibly relaxed.
"We require a review copy before publication. If the article is tasteless, we'll use the Male Protection Act to shut it down. Also, let's discuss the payment."
"Here's our offer."
The reporter took out her phone and tapped the screen, revealing a payment approval page.
(One, ten, hundred, thousand… five hundred thousand?)
A 500,000 yen offer was displayed.
(Whoa…)
I stared into the distance for a moment. It probably wasn't a direct conversion—the economy had likely inflated over time. The currency's value wasn't the same as the one from my old world.
Still, realizing that just a few photos could be worth more than a month's salary from my previous life was dizzying.
"What's the market rate?"
I whispered.
"To be honest, I'm not familiar with this either…"
Even Misago tilted her head. She had been acting all confident, but now she seemed unsure.
"Well, that's just the advance payment. What about a 1% cut of that issue's sales revenue?"
Before anyone could react, Yata-chan had appeared, looking smug as ever. Misago and I were sitting on either side of her now.
"That decision isn't mine to make…"
"Hoh? So your company is Yotsuba Publishing… meaning…?"
Yata-chan glanced at the business card, then casually pulled out her own smartphone and made a call.
"Hey, it's me. One of your people took some important photos at my place. Right now, we're keeping them private, but if you're really that desperate to use them…"
She was way too smooth with this.
"Uh-huh. Uh-huh."
She nodded along, grinning.
"Alright, 5% of the increased sales revenue for the issue."
"Wait, that's a huge jump!"
Someone muttered in disbelief.
Just like that, Yata-chan negotiated an even bigger payout.
"Alright, it's settled. Send the paperwork later."
She then turned to the reporter, holding out her phone.
Instead of handing it over, she put it on speaker mode and placed it on the table.
"…It better sell well."
A gravelly, authoritative female voice came from the speaker.
"Y-Yes! Absolutely!"
The reporter's voice cracked as she responded.
"Then do your job. Get good photos."
The publishing exec seemed to trust her despite the pressure.
"Y-Yes!"
Click.
The call ended. The reporter slumped onto the table, looking utterly drained.
"Good luck. If I can help in any way, just let me know."
As a fellow working adult, I could sympathize.
"Anything? Anything at all?"
She suddenly snapped her head up, eyes glinting with dangerous curiosity.
"…Within reason."
I replied with a dry chuckle.
I swear I felt the gazes of everyone around us sharpen.
"…For now, back off. This moment belongs to Misago."
Yata-chan casually pointed her thumb at Misago, then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture.
The reporters got the message and stepped away.
After bowing politely, they moved toward the reception desk to start some kind of paperwork process.
It seemed like the negotiations were over—for now.
Sigh…
I let out a small breath, feeling the tension finally leave my body.
Author's note :
If you're wondering what kind of magazine this is, imagine those trashy info magazines that include pointless nude photos with weird poetry—stuff that's not quite porn but still feels unnecessary.
Also, in 100 years, a 10x inflation rate is pretty normal. Currency value fluctuates, just like how wartime yen was once worth a lot but is now basically pocket change.