Late in the evening, after wrapping up another long day of work, Jinguu Akira logged back onto Twitter—and was stunned.
Over ten thousand new followers.
In just a single day, he'd gone from absolute zero to tens of thousands. It was undeniable—Weekly Shounen JUMP's promotional power was no joke.
And this was only the beginning. As his name gained traction, and with Twitter being a global platform, it wouldn't be surprising if his follower count eventually soared into the millions—or even tens of millions.
He glanced at the time. Nearly 9 PM.
His damp hair clung softly to his neck—he'd just gotten out of the shower after a short workout in the private gym. A discarded cup of instant noodles still sat next to his monitor, the scent lingering faintly in the room. When things got busy, he defaulted to instant meals. Only when he had breathing room did he actually cook.
As for ordering out—he'd thoroughly scouted the local restaurant scene. Nothing caught his fancy. He'd rather suffer through nutrient-less junk than eat food he didn't like.
Good thing he usually cooked for himself. If his entire diet consisted of this, even youth wouldn't save him from collapse.
This hour marked peak internet traffic. People were winding down, scrolling through their timelines, looking for distractions. Thinking it through for a moment, Akira didn't hesitate—he typed and pinned his very first tweet.
"Hello, everyone. I'm Jinguu Akira, the author of Naruto. Thank you all so much for your support! From here on, I'll work even harder to draw better, more exciting stories for you all. Oh—and here's my website. Feel free to check it out!"
Of course, he wasn't above some shameless self-promotion. Right out of the gate, his first tweet plugged his personal site—NICONICO.
After hitting "Post," Akira headed to the bed, grabbed his hairdryer, and began drying off his still-damp hair. Once finished, he returned to his desk and refreshed the page—and froze.
In just those few minutes, the tweet had already racked up hundreds of replies and retweets.
[1st Reply]: First comment—nailed it!
As expected, netizens around the world shared one thing in common: endless, pointless energy.
[2nd]: Congrats on the manga debut, sensei!
[5th]: Wait, this is really the Naruto author? Thought it was fake at first—no posts at all on your page!
[13th]: You're really just sixteen? Prove it—show us a pic!
[16th]: Cheering for you, sensei! I'm totally behind Naruto! I'll be voting for you in the Weekly Shounen JUMP survey!
[17th]: I came here from NICONICO! I followed "Kami-sama" after seeing your tweet yesterday. No way—you're really serialized in JUMP? At sixteen!? You're younger than me! I loved Koisora, Kami-sama! I'll totally support your manga too!
"Huh?"
A light chuckle escaped Akira's lips as he scrolled through the comments. Despite the occasional hater, the replies were mostly congratulatory. It was heartening—somehow euphoric. Even the trolls barely fazed him. Back in his web novel days, he'd been flamed constantly. He'd grown thick skin a long time ago.
Still—being praised by people you've never met, feeling their excitement through a glowing screen… it was addictive. It made you feel like you were standing at the center of the world.
But then, his eyes landed on the 17th reply. The user's avatar was an astonishingly beautiful cosplay photo.
Curious, he clicked through to the profile and opened their gallery.
Sure enough—total moe. The cosplay character wasn't from any world he recognized, likely because of the dimensional gap, and the photos had clearly been enhanced with filters—but a few everyday snapshots confirmed it: she was cute. Very cute.
His finger hovered over the "Follow" button on reflex.
...But paused.
Following a bunch of cute girls right out the gate might hurt his public image.
He forced himself to hold back.
"Tch… one day, I'll make all these cosplay characters ones I actually recognize. Just you wait."
It frustrated him. Back in his old world, he followed over a thousand cosplay accounts. Logging into social media and seeing a homepage full of moe girls had always been its own kind of healing.
[431st Reply]: Wait—you also write novels? Isn't that kinda off-track? But seriously—Koisora was beautiful. As a guy, I almost cried during the prologue…
Akira nodded slightly. His strategy was working. People were checking out NICONICO.
Once the site's functions matured—especially once it launched bullet-screen video features—it could ride on the momentum of his manga and novel to gain serious traction. His foundational task would be complete. After that? He could evolve it into Japan's largest video platform.
Purposeful. Precise. That was one of the few good traits he'd brought with him from his past life.
[457th Reply]: Wait—NICONICO has an art gallery too!? Sensei, tell me! Who are that red-and-white shrine maiden and the black-and-white witch? Are they your original characters? They're so cute~~~
[460th]: Same question! What series are those two girls from!?
That post had a link.
"Finally. Someone said it."
Akira clicked through. The link jumped to NICONICO's doujin art section—specifically, the only two illustrations he'd uploaded so far.
One featured a girl in a red-and-white shrine maiden outfit, holding ofuda and a gohei wand. Unlike typical miko, her underarms were exposed. Though her expression was serene, there was a strange sensuality about her. The caption read: "Shrine Maiden of the Hakurei Shrine."
The other showed a girl in black witch robes and a pointed hat, holding an octagonal furnace and a witch's broom. Blonde hair spilled beneath the brim, her cheeky grin full of chaotic energy. She wore a white apron over her outfit, giving her the air of both magician and maid. Her caption read: "Ordinary Magician."
They weren't drawn in chibi-style or with exaggerated proportions, but with aesthetics aligned to modern standards. A beautiful miko and a charming witch—it stirred the imagination.
This was, in a way, his own soft introduction of Touhou to this world.
Satisfied, Akira opened the replies and began interacting.
"No pics for now~ Maybe someday! But be warned—I might be too handsome, lol!"
"That girl's super cute, huh~? I might've stalked your Twitter a bit. Thanks for the support! (grin)"
"Those two illustrations are top secret—for now. Stick around and find out! Thanks again!"
[...]
Flirting with just the right dash of narcissism and humor.
This was the internet age. High online exposure and fan engagement translated directly to real-world advantages. Akira understood that perfectly—and thus forced himself to carve out time just to respond.
[514th Reply]: Sensei replied to me!! I'm so hyped! I'll support you forever!
[517th]: Wait—he stalked me!? Sensei said I'm cute… I'm dying (////)
Things were getting lively.
Jinguu Akira was completely immersed, thoroughly enjoying himself—
When his phone rang.
He frowned.
Who'd be calling this late? Only a few people even knew his number right now.
He glanced at the screen—
And froze.
The joy vanished from his face.
The caller ID:
Father.
Just two characters.
Yet they pressed down on his chest like a boulder, leaving him breathless.
Excluding the hazy hours in the hospital, he hadn't spoken to this man once since awakening in this world. And that man... the one who held immense power across all of Japan's political and economic spheres… the "father" of this body...
Was now calling.
His chest tightened with dread.
But he couldn't ignore it.
Jaw clenched, Akira tapped the answer button.