Living in the bubble economy of Tokyo, I became a literary giant through lotteries.

Guan Gu Feng instantly became excited; he recognized the thing.

The Parker Duofold Centennial was a limited edition released in 1988 to commemorate the centenary of the Parker Company.

These top-tier authors' custom-made pieces are simply not available on the market. If you had to give a price, it would be at least 300,000 yen.

Guan Gufeng took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. His peripheral vision caught the manuscript on the table, and the words "Sleep" were particularly glaring under the lamp.

Wait, the study, whiskey, jazz, Haruki Murakami's manuscripts.

As someone who was familiar with Haruki Murakami and his novels in his previous life, he knew all too well what these elements meant when they came together.

Cold sweat beaded on his forehead; he was trespassing.

He suddenly looked up, his gaze quickly sweeping across the four corners of the room.

In this day and age, surveillance cameras are not yet widely used by civilians, but Haruki Murakami is no ordinary person. What if he has a special sense of security?

No.

There were no cameras in the corner or on the ceiling. The curtains were half-drawn, and the view outside was an unfamiliar night scene.

He brought up the control panel.

[The lucky draw is in progress. Do you want to leave?]

[Note: The lottery ends once you leave; you cannot return.]

Guan Gufeng gritted his teeth and chose not to leave.

At least three minutes have passed since he was teleported here, and no one has come in or heard footsteps; it's deathly silent.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and given his current predicament, he has to give it his all.

Just then.

[Equipable item detected: Haruki Murakami's fountain pen]

[Glossary effect preview: Increases writing inspiration, boosts handwriting speed to 1500 words/hour]

[Preview of permanent condition for this entry: Maintain the equipment status until a novel is completed]

[Equipped?]

"I knew it." Guan Gufeng secretly breathed a sigh of relief. "Other transmigrators have cheat codes that can make them invincible, but mine can't be a middleman, can it?"

But then he hesitated. This was someone else's property. What was the difference between taking it directly and stealing it?

"Forget it." He shook his head, dismissing the moral dilemma. "We're almost out of food, why are you thinking about this?"

Guan Gufeng quickly picked up a fountain pen from the pen holder, and without thinking twice, he left immediately.

After another dizzying experience, Guan Gufeng returned to his room.

Looking at the familiar, cold surroundings calmed his heartbeat somewhat.

"call."

He exhaled a long breath and looked at the pen in his hand.

I'm so lucky, really lucky.

In those days, civilian surveillance was almost nonexistent. If you were a few minutes late, or if Haruki Murakami happened to come back to pick something up, you were doomed.

Besides, he only took one pen. If he took more, it would be easy for people to notice. Even if he took it out to buy a better pen, where would a poor boy like him get such a good pen? It would easily cause trouble.

"I can't participate in the lottery again until I figure out how it works," he muttered to himself. "I was lucky this time, but what about next time?"

He equipped the pen to his inventory.

On the light screen, a pen icon appeared in the "Equipped Items" section, and the attribute effect was activated accordingly.

After several experiments, he discovered that he could switch out and use it at any time, and the effect of the equipment disappearing also became a means of "destroying evidence".

Looking at the effects of the terms on the screen in front of him, Guan Gufeng clicked his tongue in amazement.

"As expected of a great writer's pen. In my previous life, I typed on a keyboard and could only write two thousand words an hour. This handwriting can actually reach one thousand five hundred."

With this, combined with the famous novels from his past life, he could easily write a book that would get a magazine contract, and might even become a bestselling author of the new era.

……

Haruki Murakami stood in front of the desk, holding a whiskey glass, his brow slightly furrowed.

The jazz music continued to play, and the ice hockey pucks gently collided in the glass, making a crisp sound.

He stared at the pen holder, feeling that something was missing.

"That's strange." He shook the cup. "I remember there should be another pen in the pen holder."

He thought about it, but couldn't come up with an answer.

"Never mind." He took a sip of whiskey and shrugged. "Maybe I drank too much today."

He sat down at his desk, picked up another pen, and continued writing.

What Guan Gufeng didn't know was that the "theft" charge that he had been agonizing over for so long was simply swept under the rug by a glass of whiskey.

However, even if he knew, he would still be just as cautious next time.

Caution is the boat.

The next day arrived in the blink of an eye, and Koji Sekiya, along with Kaze Sekiya and Aki Sekiya, headed to Shincho-sha early in the morning.

It takes about forty minutes by train from Taitung Ward to Shinjuku, where Shincho-sha is located.

Along the way, Koji Sekiya and Aki Sekiya chatted animatedly, pointing at the tall buildings outside the car window.

"Look at Shinjuku, how magnificent it is!"

"Dad, do you think if I could work in a place like this in the future, would I become an elite?"

"Of course!"

Guan Gufeng leaned against the car door, saying nothing. He had no particular feeling about the skyscrapers in Shinjuku; in his previous life, he had seen even taller ones.

In his view, the "prosperity" of the late 1980s was nothing more than a slice of history.

His predecessor was also a man of few words; he didn't need to deliberately show anything, silence was enough.

Upon arriving at Shinchosha, the overwhelming "urban elite" atmosphere left Hiroshi Sekiya completely bewildered.

He turned around and whispered to Guan Guqiu, "You...you've submitted manuscripts to the editorial office a few times before, haven't you? How do we get there?"

Guan Gu Qiu shrank back and lowered his voice: "I...I've never been to such a big editorial office before. I used to go to small magazine offices, where I could just push the door open and walk in."

The receptionist noticed them, smiled, and walked over, bowing slightly: "Hello, how can I help you?"

Koji Sekiya paused for a moment, then instinctively bowed, bowing even deeper than the receptionist. "We're here to see editor Akutagawa."

Do you have an appointment?

"An appointment?" Koji Sekiya's smile froze for a moment, then he quickly added, "No appointment, but we have a very good relationship with Editor Kurokawa! He used to work at our bookstore..."

The receptionist listened patiently to his explanation, her smile unchanged: "Please wait a moment, I'll go ask for you."

"Hello, Editor Kurokawa. Mr. Koji Sekiya is here to see you, and he has brought two young men with him."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"I understand," came Kurokawa Akuta's voice. "Please ask them to come to the reception room on the third floor. I'll be right there."

A moment later, the door to the reception room was pushed open, and a man in his thirties entered. He carried a faint smell of cigarettes and black coffee, wore thin-rimmed glasses, and had a refined appearance.

Kurokawa Akuta, Deputy Editor-in-Chief of the Literary Editorial Department of Shinchosha.

Koji Sekiya jumped to his feet, rushed forward, and bowed at a ninety-degree angle. "Editor Kurokawa! I'm so sorry to bother you so suddenly!"

Kurokawa Akuta smiled and gestured for him to sit down. "It's alright, I'm not too busy today." His gaze swept over the two of them; he recognized Guan Gu Feng, but had never met Guan Gu Qiu before.

He roughly had a idea of ​​what was going on.

Back when he was an intern editor, he was struggling to make ends meet and was on the verge of not making it.

Sachiko introduced him to the editor-in-chief at the time, saying, "This child is talented and worth nurturing."

That one sentence changed the course of his life.

He later rose through the ranks to become deputy editor-in-chief and would send gifts to the bookstore every year, but the next time they met was at Sachiko's funeral.

Now Koji Sekiya has come knocking on our door, bringing two children with him...

They're probably here looking for work.

"It's like this," Koji Sekiya rubbed his hands together, adopting a very humble posture, "I'd like to find a job for my child. Do you need any intern editors?"

really.

Kurokawa Akuta glanced at Guan Gu Feng and said with a smile, "No problem. I've met Guan Gu Feng before. He's loved reading since he was little, and his writing is quite good."

"You should be a sophomore now, right? Internship with me would be good for you after graduation."

"Um..." Koji Sekiya cautiously interrupted him, "Editor Kurokawa, Sekiya Kaze is too quiet and not very talkative. I'm afraid he'll cause you trouble."

Kurokawa Akuta was slightly taken aback.

"Look at him." Koji Sekiya pulled Aki Sekiya over. "This is our third son, Aki Sekiya. This kid has good grades, a quick mind, and he can even write his own novels."

He turned around and winked at Guan Guqiu, who quickly pulled out a stack of crumpled manuscript paper from his pocket.

"Editor Kurokawa, this is a short story I wrote. Please give me your feedback!"

He extended it with both hands, his chin slightly raised, his eyes filled with a confident "you will definitely be amazed" look.

Kurokawa took the manuscript paper.

His gaze first fell on the wrinkles in the manuscript paper, his brows furrowing slightly, before he turned to the first page.

A minute later, Kurokawa Akuta's face looked as if he had eaten shit.

He closed the manuscript, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled.

His expression returned to calm; this was the composure of someone who had been navigating the workplace for over a decade when faced with an awkward situation.

He looked at the arrogant Guan Gu Qiu, the obsequious Guan Gu Hao Er beside him, and the silent Guan Gu Feng behind him.

His intuition, honed over years in the workplace, told him that this matter was not so simple.