138. The Beginning of a Content Creator Who Neglects Their Proper Calling
After saying this, the girl turned and entered the alley on the right. Watching her figure gradually vanish into the darkness, Jiang Yu stood there, stunned for a moment, before shaking his head and turning to walk toward his own home.
Come to think of it—did Kato seem a bit strange today?
Harboring this question, Jiang Yu began his journey home. Unable to make sense of it, he once again reminded himself of the adage "never try to guess a girl’s thoughts," and quickly gave up on the matter.
Upon returning home, Nana Ebina had naturally already left. Consequently, Umaru Doma, having spent the entire evening holding back, had reverted to her usual self.
Perhaps thanks to the study session the two girls had held earlier, Umaru was not playing games as she usually did. Instead, she was leaning against a cushion on the floor, watching late-night anime she had recorded the day before.
A quintessential lazy otaku...
With this sigh, Jiang Yu walked into the bathroom to prepare a bath. He did not know why, but the day’s events had left him feeling quite exhausted. Fortunately, the young girl in the house was meticulous about cleanliness and bathed on time every day, saving Jiang Yu the trouble of drawing the water himself.
After his bath, Jiang Yu stepped out while drying his hair, considering the tasks he needed to tackle next.
First, of course, was organizing his programming books. Fortunately, his predecessor had taken an interest in programming shortly after starting high school, and the basic tutorials he had bought back then were still in the house, sparing Jiang Yu the need to buy new ones.
Next were his own responsibilities. He did not need to worry about the work for the *Steins;Gate* project in the club just yet. Jiang Yu felt that what he needed to do now was make the best use of his limited free time to push forward with both *Oregairu* and *The Witch’s House*. After all, as a not-yet-mature game producer (by his own estimation), multitasking was a cardinal sin; it was entirely possible that trying to juggle too much would lead to total collapse.
With this thought, Jiang Yu grabbed a bottle of barley tea from the fridge and headed to the study. He pulled out the programming books his predecessor had bought, packed them into a bag, and prepared to take them to school the next day for Megumi Kato.
Afterward, Jiang Yu went straight to his bedroom. He sat down, opened his laptop, and clicked on the Word document for *Oregairu*, his movements fluid and practiced.
Thus, the quiet time before sleep slipped away to the steady, rhythmic clacking of the keyboard. Only when his pre-set alarm went off did he stop.
A thought flashed through his mind: "I really miss the mechanical keyboard I used to use for typing." He was quite impressed with himself for managing to persist using the laptop’s built-in keyboard all this time.
Standing up with his phone, Jiang Yu turned off the alarm. As for when he had set it... ever since he had spent a miserable, lethargic weekend recovering from an all-nighter last week, he had decided to strictly regulate his daily routine to prevent such incidents from recurring.
For instance, the midnight alarm served as a reminder to set everything aside and prepare for sleep. Naturally, as part of his duties as an older brother, he also intended to use it to adjust Umaru’s day-night-inverted lifestyle.
After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Jiang Yu chased Umaru away from the PS4 she had just turned on, insisting she get ready for bed. Although she grumbled, seeing Jiang Yu lead by example left her with no grounds for protest.
Both Jiang Yu and Umaru kept the promise they had made on a certain night firmly in their hearts.
After watching his little sister finish her routine and head into her room, Jiang Yu returned to his own to sleep. Before drifting off, something occurred to him. He sat back down at his computer and logged into Niconico for the first time in ages to check the reception of the videos he had uploaded previously.
It seemed he hadn't visited the site since he uploaded those three videos and sent a private message to the user named "Midorima." Compared to his former self, who used to browse Bilibili constantly, he really was an unqualified otaku.
After logging in, the first thing he noticed was the "99+" notification on his private messages. It was the first time he had ever seen his own account in such a state.
Most of the messages were filled with praise, others asked about the source of the music, and a small number came from other content creators asking if they could arrange or cover the pieces. Of course, there were also one or two trolls looking for trouble.
Jiang Yu didn't pay much mind to them. He hadn't given much thought to copyright issues, but for now, he didn't want to release his adaptation rights. Since he had become a creator, he figured he should at least plan out his channel properly.
Checking the original works ranking, all three of his videos had cracked the top 20 within the week. The George Winston version of *Canon*, which had gained the most traction thanks to that "Midorima" user, had even climbed to the ninth spot.
For the music category—especially the original works section—this was an impressive achievement. This was perhaps due to the fact that he was releasing classics from his previous life.
As for the video that the other creator had uploaded... Jiang Yu checked the comments section and found that the user seemed to have deleted it themselves, as there were many comments saying things like "Came here because of you" and "Original version found after the deletion!"
This increased Jiang Yu’s opinion of that creator significantly. Although they had uploaded his work without permission, they hadn't shown their face, and they had deleted the video after receiving his message. They were, at the very least, someone with copyright awareness who kept their word.
Soon, however, Jiang Yu found himself in a dilemma. He wanted to manage his account properly, but he had no idea where to start. Should he continue releasing original music? It wasn't impossible, but if he was too prolific and every piece was a classic, it would lead to unnecessary misunderstandings.
Perhaps he could branch out into other fields and manage the account as a promotional platform?
His eyes lit up at the thought; he felt he had found a good method. He dug out the concept art for *The Witch’s House* that he had recorded with Aki Tomoya’s help. After carefully selecting a few of the more detailed original sketches—though still uncolored—he posted them in the art section of Niconico.
While professionals might find room for improvement in his drawings, among amateur fan creators, Jiang Yu’s skill level seemed to be quite high. If he had to compare, he was about one tier below the top-tier artists on the site. And based on the skill he had witnessed, those top-tier Niconico artists were one tier below Eriri Spencer Sawamura from his own club.
*So, I’m two levels below Sawamura-san, then?* Jiang Yu smiled self-deprecatingly, though he didn't dwell on it. After all, he considered his true profession to be that of a game producer.
But would he be seen as an unfocused creator for doing this? He could already see the labels "Jack-of-all-trades, master of none" and "Chronic procrastinator" being slapped onto him.
Well... whatever.
In a good mood, Jiang Yu quickly gave up on overthinking the issue, shut down his computer, and got into bed.
Wait... did I forget something?
Just before falling asleep, this thought suddenly flashed through his mind.