Otaku Translation: Literary Genius: This Kid Was Born Smart C147

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Chapter 147: Translation Arrangement Complete

How had Chief Editor Gao passed along the message?!

After silently grumbling to herself, Deputy Director Dao Mei felt a pang of regret for knowing such a loose-lipped friend. Still, she continued diplomatically: "Our New Star Publishing has certainly offered a relatively high royalty rate."

"Mr. Gu, you have already published The Little Prince, so you must be familiar with market prices," Dao Mei said. "I won’t beat around the bush. Currently, the ace of the mystery genre is . Her Lu Ji Detective Series sells exceptionally well and she’s hailed as . She earns a 13% royalty—"

Though unfamiliar with this "Chinese Agatha Christie," Gu Lu understood the implication behind Deputy Director Dao Mei’s words.

If the leading figure in domestic mysteries only earned 13%, there was no hope of exceeding that ceiling.

"We’re approaching this with sincerity. New Star Publishing is willing to offer 11%," Dao Mei said. " will have an initial print run of 80,000 copies."

"It’s indeed a good offer. I’ll need some time to consider it," Gu Lu replied.

"...Very well. If Mr. Gu has any questions, feel free to call anytime," Dao Mei hesitated before adding, "Our Midnight Bookshelf series by New Star Publishing enjoys considerable renown in the mystery community."

Had the author protested that the offer was too low, Dao Mei had over a hundred responses prepared. But Gu Lu’s straightforward request for consideration left her tongue-tied.

After hanging up, Dao Mei sat frozen on the sofa for a long while, as if turned to stone.

"I hope 11% will seal the deal. With Mr. Holmes' quality, it’s bound to be profitable," Dao Mei thought.

Offering 12% might guarantee agreement, but that would cut into the publisher’s profits. Dao Mei still aimed for a win-win situation.

What was Deputy Editor Dao Mei’s idea of a win-win? You take less, and I take more.

On the other end of the phone line, Gu Lu sat at his computer, typing furiously on his new serialized work—a short sci-fi piece by ...

After about half an hour of uninterrupted typing, Gu Lu awkwardly rose from his chair, feeling a twinge of pain in his lower back. A quick stretch, however, restored him to normal.

"Youth is truly a blessing," Gu Lu sighed, glancing at the clock—it was 10:30 PM.

With ample time to spare, he decided to take a break and check his QQ messages. Let it be noted that one of Gu Lu’s strengths lay in his self-awareness.

Knowing his tendency to lose focus, he always wrote offline. After all, the books synthesized through his golden ability appeared fully formed in his mind—no research required.

Once reconnected, messages from the Chronicles of Mystery corresponding editor and his middle school class group chat popped up.

[Han Cang: Good news, Mr. Gu. Your short story series has been scheduled for translation. I never expected it to go so smoothly. After discussions, the Japanese magazine has assigned a translator named , who specializes in translations and is quite professional.]

[Han Cang: I’ll send you his email address so you can confirm some details.]

This was excellent news. Gu Lu thanked Han Cang and copied the email address provided by the corresponding editor.

"@.jp... This suffix seems to be a Yahoo email, right?" Gu Lu had previously used QQ mail.

After some thought, he created a NetEase email account and linked it to his phone number.

He’d heard that sending emails abroad via QQ often resulted in failed deliveries or lost messages.

[Mr. Yasuyama, hello. I am the author of , , and Murder on D Street. If you have any questions about translating these works, please feel free to communicate via email.]

"Hmm, this should be fine, right?" Gu Lu reassured himself before hitting send.

There was no chance of an immediate reply. Tokyo time was an hour ahead, and it was already 11:30 PM there.

"On Earth, Kogoro Akechi conquered all Japanese readers, inspiring countless manga adaptations and tributes." Gu Lu mused. "Who knows how things will play out in this world?"

was known as the "," alongside Takagi Akimitsu, Morimura Seiichi, Sano Yô, and Yokomizo Seishi, collectively referred to as the (though Yokomizo didn’t exist in this parallel world).

While Ranpo held the reputation of a pioneer on Earth, the title of "Father of Japanese Mystery" belonged to someone else in this alternate reality, likely diminishing the impact of his works.

However, this world also lacked Ranpo’s peculiar and grotesque style. Would the Japanese people embrace it?

No one could predict how much of a splash it might make.

At 11:30 PM sharp, Gu Lu went to bed, having written roughly two thousand words that day.

Before moving, he often dreamed vividly, but now dreams were rare. Tonight was no exception—a dreamless sleep.

Winter arrived, and Chongqing’s chill became apparent.

Unlike the biting cold of northern climates, Chongqing’s cold was more insidious—a magical attack that seeped through layers of clothing, leaving one damp and shivering.

"Leaving my bed feels impossible. Maybe I should negotiate seriously with Director Dao Mei and get this settled quickly so I can skip evening study sessions," Gu Lu muttered, shivering as he washed up.

He used warm water to wash his face but brushed his teeth with icy tap water—a habit that made his teeth ache.

The cold air slapped his face, momentarily tempting him to accept the 11% offer outright. Originally, he’d planned to hold out for 12%.

This wasn’t a random decision. Director Jian had promised 14-15% royalties for his next book if it was another fairy tale, or 13% for other genres.

"Our primarily publishes children’s literature, so promotional channels for other genres are weaker," Director Jian had explained. It was a fair deal.

Bad news: Light rain was forecasted.

Good news: It was Friday.

For students, Fridays held as much allure as a did for Plankton, especially for boarding students.

Take Wei Jiao (nicknamed Panda) and the pen-spinning champion—they ran harder during PE than ever before.

They all had homes to return to, places where their hearts found refuge. That was comforting.

No. 8 High School wasn’t too bad; Gu Lu had heard of stricter boarding schools where students could only go home once a month.

Not everyone yearned to return home, though. Qi Caiwei, for instance, showed little enthusiasm. Every Friday, her usually calm demeanor betrayed subtle turbulence, her smiles dimming.

"Gu Lu, I’ve discovered a money-making scheme. Want to hear about it?" Wei Jiao asked.

"Yeah, right. If it were really profitable, would you even tell me?" Gu Lu scoffed.

"I checked. Your meal card is a faculty card, which gets discounts—not just cheaper prices, but cafeteria ladies serve larger portions. Give me your card, and I’ll pay you back. We both win!" Wei Jiao explained. "Then I’ll recruit clients, and we’ll pocket the difference."

"...You’re actually a genius," Gu Lu said, eyeing the gleam of gold coins in Wei Jiao’s eyes.

"But have you considered how I got this faculty meal card?" Gu Lu asked. Watching Wei Jiao shake her head, he revealed, "It’s a perk from the school. I don’t even add money to it."

"You eat without paying? Did you save the world or something?" Wei Jiao’s eyes widened in shock, her young mind deeply shaken.

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