Rewrite Our Love? Too Late-Chapter 111: When an Otaku Discovers a Legend

Sato Kazuma.

An otaku through and through.

If he wasn't raiding dungeons in an online RPG, he was binging light novels or catching up on anime. That's just how he lived. And if you asked him what he did yesterday, he'd say something like:

"My party and I overcame a deadly dungeon, slayed a cursed beast guarding a forbidden treasure, and saved the world."

Of course, what he really meant was that he and his online guild beat a difficult boss in a multiplayer game.

The truth? He barely got into Toyogasaki High School—more of a fluke than a feat. Somehow, through sheer dumb luck, his guesses on the entrance exam landed just right.

In fact, Sato Kazuma had always been unusually lucky. Not once had he lost a game of rock-paper-scissors in his life.

Today, however, his usual rhythm was interrupted. The online game he played religiously was undergoing emergency maintenance and updates.

Bored and aimless, he lazily opened up the light novel site "Let's Become a Novelist!"—a place he hadn't visited in months.

He skimmed the rankings without much interest.

"Ugh... Can these authors just die already?"

From the bottom to the top: The Legend of the Phantom Blade, Jujutsu Kaisen, and more of the same. Action-packed fantasy. Recycled tropes. Clones of clones. Either massive bestsellers from veteran authors like Muramasa Senju, or manga-to-novel adaptations trying to cash in.

The light novel industry was dying, in his eyes. A place where originality went to starve.

So he was just about to click away—

When a title stopped him cold.

"The Youth of a Lonely Boy Will Not Dream of a Passerby Heroine."

A romantic comedy.

In this desert of swords, magic, and Isekai harems—an oasis.

Sato Kazuma blinked. A romcom? In this ranking?

With cautious curiosity, he clicked on it. The author's name: Yukimi Azuma.

"...Huh?"

He stared.

That name... it sounded suspiciously like someone he knew. Yukimi Azuma. One character off from his friend's real name. Pronunciation almost identical.

But he brushed it off. No way that riajuu could write a romcom. That guy? Too busy living the perfect life.

Then—

He read the novel.

His eyes widened. His jaw dropped. He saw his own name—Sato Kazuma—used directly as a supporting character.

"Holy shit. It really is him!"

His head dropped into his hands.

No pseudonym. No alias. His friend had shamelessly used his real name, just tossed it into the manuscript like seasoning.

And the writing? ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

It was good.

Too good.

Kazuma, a lifelong otaku and casual reviewer with more than a million combined followers on YouTube and Twitter, had dabbled in light novel writing before. His stories had been... let's not talk about it.

But this?

This was professional. The dialogue, the emotions, the pacing—it all just clicked.

His jealousy exploded.

"Damn it... so the top student can write."

Emotionally conflicted but intellectually honest, he pulled open Twitter.

Kazuma wasn't just some casual tweeter. He had clout—millions followed his takes on games, anime, and novels. He could start or kill a trend with one well-aimed post.

So he didn't hold back.

@OtakuKazuma – Advocating Gender Equality:

Book recommendation. Not an ad. Read it and decide for yourself.

But before that—light novel authors, stop plagiarizing each other. If all you can write is generic isekai trash, just disappear already.

Main content: 10/10. 120% recommendation.

"The Youth of a Lonely Boy Will Not Dream of a Passerby Heroine"

by Yukimi Azuma-sensei

📚 Link: (pa.treon.com/curse_heian_chef)

Reason: You'll get it once you read it. And if you don't like this? Fine. Go back to your brain-dead harem fantasy slop.

Blunt. Brutal. Unapologetic.

His tweet, written in signature Kazuma style, went viral within minutes.

People thought he'd sold out. "Paid promo," they grumbled. So they clicked the link, ready to roast him for shilling trash.

But none came back.

Because once they read it—they got it.

Within a single day, the web version of Saekano soared to the top of the rankings.

No ads. No marketing campaign.

Just word of mouth and undeniable quality.

Soon, other influencers joined the chorus. Fan art poured in. Comment sections overflowed.

Illustrator Izumi Sagiri, known online as Eromanga-sensei, submitted all artwork ahead of schedule. Her drawings exuded an energy that felt more than professional—it felt personal. As if she poured every drop of her soul into them.

Yukimi Azuma stared at the illustrations with stunned admiration. Not only did they match the tone of his writing—they enhanced it.

She didn't even reply afterward. Probably collapsed from exhaustion.

Satisfied, Yukimi packed everything and headed to Laplace Bunko, the reborn label formerly known as Dengeki Bunko.

There, he met Machida Sonoko, the seasoned editor who had left Fujikawa to join this fresh venture.

Her tone was sharp, urgent.

"Have you got the illustrator yet? There's a storm coming that'll delay distribution. If we miss this window, we'll lose the hype!"

Without a word, Yukimi handed her the materials.

She opened the folder.

Silence.

Her eyes grew wide, her breath caught.

She saw the signature in the corner—Eromanga-sensei.

She didn't ask anything more. She didn't need to.

This rookie had done what veterans failed to do in years.

Her pulse quickened. Her face flushed with excitement.

"Everything's ready. Let's launch the marketing campaign immediately. Official release—this Saturday!"

She turned to Yukimi, voice trembling.

"Initial print run. What's your call?"

A sane answer would be 10,000 copies. Maybe 50,000 if they were feeling bold.

Kazuma considered.

"One million."

The room fell silent.

Machida Sonoko didn't argue.

She simply nodded.

And just like that, Laplace Bunko went to war.

Across Japan, posters of Saekano dominated bookstore displays. The massive digital billboards in Ginza, usually reserved for fashion brands, now showed stills from Eromanga-sensei's work on a loop.

This kind of campaign? Insane. Unheard of. No third-tier publisher could afford this.

But Laplace Corporation had money.

And now, Laplace Bunko had something even more powerful—hope.

Internally, staff who had quietly mourned the death of Dengeki Bunko now felt their hearts beating again. They read Saekano and trembled—not from fear, but from awe.

"Ten years of silence. And finally... a spark."

Every editor in the building knew—this was the one.

This wasn't just a hit.

It was a revolution.

Release Day: Saturday

The day light novel history would be rewritten.