Parallel World Light Novelist

Even though themes like magic, alchemy, isekai, reincarnation, heroes, demon kings, and elves were oversaturated to the point of causing fatigue, everything changed when the creator’s name was Haruto.

Gojo quickly fired up his PC and logged into the Haru-Yuki official website. He chose his computer over his phone for the simple reason that a larger screen provided a far superior viewing experience.

Once the page loaded, he clicked on the teaser. He glanced at the page statistics and saw that at 5:20 AM, there were already 170,000 people watching the video simultaneously. While he marveled at Haruto’s terrifying level of popularity, his attention was quickly snatched away by a low, melancholic background track.

Fullmetal Alchemist was a masterpiece that Haruto had brought from his memories, choosing to adapt it with the highest possible production standards.

Regarding the music, Haruto personally felt that the hauntingly beautiful tracks like Brothers were essential for setting the tone. He had decided to feature that exact melody in this teaser.

As the soothing yet sorrowful melody began to play, Gojo felt his heart tighten. While Japan was flooded with fantasy magic anime, most were simple comedies or power fantasies.

Shows that focused on pure world-building, visceral combat, political intrigue, and the heavy consequences of supernatural power were rare, almost non-existent in the current market.

The very first frame of the Fullmetal teaser was a line of crimson text that flickered onto the screen.

”Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return.”

The next scene featured a female narrator reciting a haunting list of ingredients.

”The components for a standard human body include twenty-five liters of water, twenty kilograms of oxygen, four kilograms of ammonia, one point five kilograms of lime, eight hundred grams of phosphorus, two hundred and forty grams of salt, and one hundred grams of saltpeter.”

That simple list laid bare the chemical composition of a human being.

As a student, Gojo immediately grasped the implications.

Is that all a human is?

It’s so simple. If you bought those materials at a store, it wouldn’t even cost much.

The scene shifted to two young boys standing over a pile of those exact materials. Their eyes were filled with a desperate, hopeful light.

Human transmutation materials.

Combining this with the narration, Gojo pieced together what the boys were doing. It seemed these two boys were attempting to craft a human being from that pile of chemicals.

His eyes lit up at the creativity of the concept, but then he remembered the opening line.

To obtain something, you must give something of equal value.

The implications were chilling.

The trailer didn’t linger on that scene. It flashed forward to a different perspective, showcasing a sprawling kingdom, the elite State Alchemists, a one-eyed Fuhrer, a young boy with a prosthetic steel arm, and a character encased in a massive suit of armor. There was a handsome man who could cause explosions with a mere snap of his fingers, a menacing man with a scar on his face, and a gluttonous giant who seemed obsessed with eating.

There were glimpses of people dying in war, alchemists wielding bizarre powers, and a young man moving with incredible speed through the air. These characters moved through the trailer, some speaking a line or two of dialogue, others featured in breathtaking action sequences.

Finally, the screen settled on a dog with deeply melancholy eyes.

It looked directly into the camera, staring at Gojo, and uttered a single phrase in a sorrowful voice.

”Big brother.”

The images faded as a pillar of blood-red light surged toward the heavens, condensing into a beautiful red crystal.

The title Fullmetal Alchemist slammed onto the screen in bold letters.

Gojo sat in silence, his pupils still reflecting the final frames while the mournful music echoed in his ears. A teaser rarely revealed the full quality of a story, but it was enough to let fans identify the genre, style, art direction, and production value.

Gojo wasn’t just impressed by the setting or the world-building. What he took away from the trailer was how visually and aurally stunning it was.

The music was perfect, the animation quality was explosive, and the voice acting was drenched in emotion. Most importantly, the trailer established a serious atmosphere.

He could tell this wasn’t a cliché isekai story about a hero defeating a demon king. It was a show that took its world-building seriously and intended to tell a profound story within that framework.

Feeling a surge of energy, he hit replay and began watching the trailer frame by frame, hoping to uncover more details about the setting before the premiere.

Gojo was far from alone in his obsession. By 6:00 AM, the Haru-Yuki website felt like it was hosting a festival. Even though the sun hadn’t risen in many parts of Japan, fans were already engaged in frantic discussions.

On every major anime and manga forum, the top trending topic was ”Haruto’s New Project Teaser.”

”So this is a hot-blooded battle series? It’s not a gag-filled isekai comedy?”

”Looks that way. It seems very serious.”

”The last shot was a dog and a stone. I bet those are the keys to the whole plot. Could the dog be the final boss?”

”Well, the dog talking was a bit creepy, but in an alchemist’s world, a magical talking dog is probably normal.”

”What’s bothering me is the two boys at the start. They’re clearly the protagonists, right? Why is it that when they grow up, one has a steel arm and the other is a full suit of armor? Is it cybernetics? Is this some kind of isekai magic mixed with cyberpunk?”

”Cyberpunk? It’s not that high-tech. Did you see the train in the trailer? That was a steam engine. Steampunk is a much better fit. In a steampunk setting, mechanical arms and armor make total sense.”

”So, a magic story set in the steam age? That sounds like an unusual combination.”

”What’s unusual about it? It looks amazing to me.”

”There were thirty-one different characters in just a ninety-second trailer. This show is going to have a massive cast!”

”Don’t worry about it.”

”Word is that Fullmetal Alchemist is even longer than Code Geass. A few dozen characters is nothing for a long-runner.”

”Wait, it’s that long? Code Geass had fifty episodes over two seasons.”

”Maybe the Warrior of Love is planning on making this a truly epic long-form series.”

”Ugh, this is agonizing! It would have been better if he didn’t release the trailer at all. There’s still a month until it airs! How am I supposed to wait?”

”Even though Sword Art Online is still airing, I’ve already read the light novels up to the Alicization arc. Watching the anime is great, but I already know what happens. I need this new series to get here now. I wish it were January already.”

”I’m betting this could be another masterpiece on the level of Code Geass.”

”Don’t jinx it!”

”Code Geass is already a hall-of-fame tier work in the industry. I’m a huge fan, but let’s be realistic. It’s nearly impossible to surpass a show that holds almost every record.”

”If this new show achieves even sixty or seventy percent of what Lelouch did, with a 4.5% or 5% rating, that would be a massive win.”

”True. It’s hard to imagine anything topping Geass. As long as the quality is high, I’ll support him.”

”If you think about it, of all his shows, Anohana had the lowest premiere rating, right? It was just over 3%. If his new work can do as well as Anohana, I’ll be satisfied.”

”Don’t talk down about Anohana. It had no initial investment, no massive promotion, it aired on a weekday on a second-tier station, and it still pulled a 3% rating. That was incredible for its time. With Haruto’s current popularity, a show like Anohana would easily hit 4% or 5% today.”

”That’s the point. His fame gives his work such a huge boost that other creators can’t even compete.”

”He built that fame piece by piece. People who complain that it’s ’unfair’ are just bitter. No one stopped them from building their own massive fanbase over the years.”

”Exactly. I’ll admit that a show that might only deserve a 3% rating gets a 4% just because his name is on it, but that’s a skill in itself. When you reach the top of the light novel, manga, and anime worlds all at once, then you can complain.”

”January is Fullmetal Alchemist, April is Slam Dunk, July is Gurren Lagann, and October is Bakemonogatari. I’m done with this year. Can we just skip December and get to 2026 already?”

Even without a massive marketing spend, the Fullmetal Alchemist teaser became the dominant topic on every major website once the rest of the country woke up. Young people commuting to work on trains and subways sighed as they scrolled through the news.

When will Haruto ever run out of inspiration?

Most legendary creators either slowed down to a crawl after becoming famous, taking years or even a decade to release something new, or they retired early to protect their legacy. But Haruto was a different breed. Code Geass had been finished for less than six months, and he was already launching another major project. He was the only one in Japan capable of maintaining this level of high-volume, high-quality output. He was prolific, hardworking, wealthy, and successful. It was no wonder he had such a devoted following.

Over at Haru-Yuki Animation, the six different production teams were feeling the heat.

After the massive success of Code Geass, the initial euphoria had faded, replaced by intense pressure. Tens of millions of fans and thousands of industry professionals were watching them closely, waiting to see if Haru-Yuki Animation could maintain its upward trajectory.

If they could deliver another show of that caliber, they would soon overtake the Big Three studios to become the number one animation house in Japan. If they failed, the established giants and the rivals Haruto had suppressed over the years would surely launch a counter-attack to reclaim their status.

Aside from Haruto, who possessed absolute confidence in Fullmetal Alchemist, everyone else was nervous.

They weren’t worried the show would flop in the traditional sense. With Haruto’s name on the box, they would always have enough loyal fans to stay profitable. Their fear was that the show wouldn’t live up to the impossible expectations.

Madoka Magica, Code Geass and Edgerunners had all hit a 6% rating.

For Fullmetal Alchemist, the most expensive project in Haruto’s career, anything less than 5% would feel like a step backward. Yet, a 5% rating was a height no other creator had reached in the last five years.

Haruto didn’t bother giving them a pep talk. He knew the work would speak for itself.

As December rolled in, the first season of the Sword Art Online anime was drawing to a close. The adaptation had been incredibly faithful, refusing to cut content.

The Aincrad arc alone had spanned over twenty episodes, and the Fairy Dance arc was equally detailed. This was why the first season was only just concluding in December after airing for over half a year. The first season went out on a high note, helping the light novels sell an additional four million copies per volume.

The final episode hit a staggering 6.35% rating, sending the industry into a frenzy once again.

With Sword Art Online finished, Haruto stopped holding back. He officially launched the full-scale promotional blitz for Fullmetal Alchemist across all of Japan.

This wasn’t the subtle teaser phase anymore.

Given the massive production investment, he wasn’t going to be

stingy with the marketing. ℯℯ𝑙.

Just three days after the Sword Art Online finale, the presence of Fullmetal Alchemist became unavoidable.

It was everywhere.

_______________________