I just want to quietly draw manga

After the three of them got into the taxi, the car drove straight to Airi’s apartment. 𝒻𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝘯𝘰𝑣ℯ𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝘮

"This is where you live?" Haruki glanced out the window, taking in the upscale neighborhood and the building’s high-end design.

For the first time, he realized this childish, spoiled girl was actually loaded. The kind of rich where you skip twenty years of struggle just by existing.

"Yep! Want to come up? If you’ve got nothing on tomorrow, just stay over! My living room, my room, the guest rooms they all have PCs. I spent a fortune setting them up. They’re way better than net café rigs. Come on, let’s keep grinding!" Airi said excitedly.

"I’m good. You should head in," Haruki said, shaking his head.

"You really just invite people to your place like this? You barely know me. Aren’t you worried I might be sketchy?"

"But you’re not," she replied without hesitation.

"Suit yourself. See you next week, then!" she said, clearly disappointed.

Haruki sighed. Great now he was stuck playing the responsible one.

"Let’s go," he told the driver.

"Later, Airi!" Ryuko waved from the backseat as they pulled away.

Once they were back in the taxi, Ryuko glanced over at Haruki.

"Hey... so, Airi’s a manga artist too?"

She’d gathered that much from their conversation earlier.

"Yeah. We’re both in the same magazine Shroud Line. She’s the current top-ranked series."

"And you?"

"I’m second," Haruki said with a shrug.

"So you’re rivals now?"

It took Ryuko a second to piece it together, but the implications were obvious.

"Kinda," he said. "I care about getting to the top. But she... she’s the type who doesn’t care much either way. As long as she finishes the work, she’s fine with whatever happens."

He paused, then added, "Her editor, Haruka, once told me that if Airi had a job that paid better than manga, she probably wouldn’t even be doing this. She only draws because it beats doing anything else. Her ’normal’ update schedule used to be monthly or even yearly."

It wasn’t often Haruki spoke that much, but for some reason, he didn’t mind now.

Ryuko nodded quietly, and the conversation faded. It was late, and both of them were too tired.

Eventually, the taxi dropped them off at their respective places.

Time passed quickly.

Outside of one afternoon a week reserved for training and the occasional break, Haruki spent every day on a strict two-location loop: drawing manga at home, then heading to the animation studio to oversee production and give feedback.

Every minute of his day was accounted for.

Under this rhythm, everything moved forward steadily.

Soon, Chapter nine of Initial D was officially published.

And unlike earlier releases, this one exploded.

In the weeks following the end of Ashes of tomorrow, sales of Shroud Line had taken a hit. But after Initial D began serialization, not only did it draw in Ashes of tomorrow fans, it also attracted a whole new crowd racing manga enthusiasts.

Now, sales of Shroud Line were almost back to their peak.

And with each cliffhanger, Initial D had become the kind of series readers couldn’t stop thinking about. Bookstores saw long queues forming in the early hours of release day, just for that week’s issue.

The Chapter picked up right where the last left off: Fujiwara Takumi’s AE86 still tailing Takahashi Keisuke’s FD, both cars barreling down Mt. Akina’s final stretch. The last five consecutive hairpin turns were approaching.

Fans had waited a full week for this moment.

Once again, the familiar rush of downhill racing hit like a wave those beautifully drawn corners bordered on artwork, and the intensity practically jumped off the page. Haruki’s linework had leveled up again, fusing with the pacing to create a gripping, high-speed thrill even in static panels.

Keisuke, in the lead, looked increasingly tense. No matter how he pushed the FD, the 86 stayed glued to his bumper.

By contrast, Takumi’s expression was calm focused, but composed.

In the manga’s paneling, the tension built as the cars closed in on the five hairpins. Neither one could pull away. The battle was reaching its climax.

And readers knew: the final twist had to come from something Takumi had hinted at earlier his trump card for these exact turns.

Because let’s face it there’s no way Takumi could overtake an FD in pure performance without something.

If he did it just by "driving skill," it’d be too convenient. Too protagonist-y.

On the mountaintop, Ryosuke Takahashi monitored everything. He ordered his teammates to report on the five-hairpin segment in real time.

"There! Keisuke’s FD, Takumi’s 86 approaching now!"

The moment that line hit, readers across the country perked up.

This was it.

What card was Takumi hiding for the five hairpins?

Then, in a gorgeous full-page spread, the two cars were shown drifting into a tight corner an image that practically vibrated with energy.

The onlookers Nakamura, Ryosuke, the Akina locals all tensed as the walkie-talkies fed them the scene.

Then came the moment.

Keisuke slowed for the sharp turn... and Takumi dove in from the inside line to accelerate and overtake.

Wait, what?

Even Keisuke was stunned.

Is he crazy?

That same reaction hit readers too.

Back in Chapter one, Takumi had won against Keisuke with a surprise maneuver partly thanks to Keisuke’s unfamiliarity with Akina.

But this time was different.

The manga made it clear: at Takumi’s current speed, no amount of skill could explain the cornering. The tires simply didn’t have enough grip.

Was the creator really going to give Takumi a "main character cheat" here?

Some readers frowned.

Up to now, the manga had stuck to realism no magical power-ups, no impossible tricks. That’s what made it so appealing.

What fans wanted to see was Takumi winning with skills that, while extraordinary, still felt grounded. Not some shounen-style "power burst."

(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 55+ advanced Chapters)