I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 363

Late November

Chain Veil posted an announcement on their official website: Muzishiro would be serializing a new manga with them starting in January.

This time, it wasn’t just fans paying attention.

Every major publishing house had been watching. After Echo Shroud announced Code Geass as a manga, the industry knew Echo Shroud wouldn’t have room for another Muzishiro work. Nearly every publisher had quietly reached out with offers, hoping to secure his next project.

Now the question was answered.

Chain Veil had won.

Internally, reactions were subdued. Quiet frustration at some houses, quiet relief at others. No public statements. Just editors making notes and adjusting their strategies.

Online, readers were loud.

“Wait, what happened between Muzishiro and Echo Shroud? Is there a problem?”

“There’s nothing going on between them. Echo Shroud just doesn’t have enough slots to keep up with Muzishiro’s output.”

“Haha, I don’t know why, but reading ‘they don’t have enough slots for one mangaka’ made me laugh. That’s such a Muzishiro problem.”

“Guess I have to start buying Chain Veil now.”

“I dropped Chain Veil after their lineup got too formulaic. I only follow two series there and just buy the volumes. Now I have to subscribe again.”

“Did Chain Veil say what type of manga Muzishiro’s making?”

“No official announcement yet. But unofficial sources are saying it’s a sci-fi space western action drama.”

“If that’s true, I’m hyped. Muzishiro doing sci-fi plus western? Space cowboys? Hell yeah.”

“Muzishiro, after this, can you please make a good romance manga? Not a heartbreaking one. A happy one.”

“You’re asking in the wrong place. Muzishiro only knows one word, and that word is tragedy. I guarantee Fullmetal will end tragically, and JoJo too. There are way too many happy moments in JoJo right now. He’s going to pull the rug out at the end.”

“How about Muzishiro finds a girlfriend first, then writes romance?”

“That’ll make it worse. What if the relationship doesn’t work out and he doubles down? I don’t want another Anohana level disaster.”

“Does anyone know when it’s releasing? I want to know when to start buying.”

“Honestly, I think Muzishiro should just start his own publishing house. With all his manga, he could probably do double chapters for four series at once.”

“It’s harder than you think. Managing a publishing house and its distribution isn’t something one person can do, even if they’re Muzishiro.”

At Haruki’s home

While people online debated space cowboys and tragic endings, Haruki had grown even busier.

Three manga were now serializing at the same time. Code Geass had debuted its manga adaptation the previous week with two chapters, which meant he had started drawing again on top of managing everything else. JoJo and Fullmetal were both in critical arcs. The anime production pipeline for his original project was still in pre-production, moving slower than the rest.

And now, Trigun.

He sat at his desk, staring at the manuscript in front of him.

Trigun felt different from anything the system had given him before. It wasn’t that the story was weak. The potential was obvious. But it demanded more from him than usual. More decisions. The system had given him the foundation, but the structure still needed to be built.

He’d been thinking about it for the entire month.

The core question kept circling back: which tone should he choose?

One option was leaning closer to JoJo’s structure. Keep the world lighthearted most of the time, so when serious moments landed, they hit harder. Let the episodic flow breathe. Make the tragedy sharper through contrast.

The other option was taking a Fullmetal-like approach. Explore the gray areas directly. Don’t treat pacifism as the obvious correct answer. Dig deeper into the ideological conflict between Vash and Knives instead of only hinting at it. Let consequences linger. Force readers to sit with the weight of each decision.

The original Trigun had never overexplained its world. It didn’t linger on moments for long. Consequences passed quickly, sometimes before they could fully settle. Characters came and went. The tone shifted often, sometimes within the same chapter.

From what the system had shown him, much of that came from real-world limitations: changing publishers mid-run, production constraints, inconsistent schedules. The author had done what they could under those conditions, and the story still worked. The potential had always been there. It showed whenever small adjustments elevated entire arcs.

But this was a different time.

Readers expected tighter structure. They expected thematic cohesion. They expected the consistency Haruki had built his reputation on with Fullmetal and JoJo.

He couldn’t just serialize Trigun with minor polish and call it done. If he was going to release this under his name, it had to match the level of his current work, at the very least.

That thought had been sitting in his mind all month, returning again and again every time he sat down to plan.

He exhaled slowly and set the manuscript aside.

Not tonight.

He’d decide tomorrow. Or the day after. There was still time before serialization began.

Kenta’s voice came from his desk.

“Haruki, I finished the Code Geass rough draft for next week. Want to check it before I move to inking?”

Haruki stood and walked over.

Kenta had the pages spread across his desk. Lelouch’s confrontation with Clovis. The panel composition was clean. The expressions were sharp.

“This is good,” Haruki said. “Go ahead and ink it.”

Kenta grinned. “I’m getting faster. Two weeks ago this would’ve taken me an extra day.”

“The weekly training is showing,” Haruki said. “You’re adjusting to the new style quickly.”

Noya called out from his corner. “Kenta’s been showing off all week. Don’t feed his ego.”

“I’m not showing off,” Kenta said. “I’m just good now.”

He turned toward Haruki. “So when are you giving me the spoiler?”

Haruki said, “There’s no need right now. You still have a lot of material to go through before you need new content.”

Kenta looked dejected as he slumped back into his seat.

Seeing this, Haruki finally said, “If we keep up this pace, and you draw enough chapters in advance before Code Geass starts premiering, then I’ll have to give you spoilers.”

That was enough.

Kenta straightened immediately, fired up again, already determined to be the first one to squeeze spoilers out of him.

Haruki returned to his desk. His phone buzzed.

A message from Yoshihiro.

Yoshihiro: Chain Veil confirmed the January slot. Trigun will debut on the 15th. Let me know if you need anything before then.

Haruki typed back.

Haruki: Got it. I’ll have the first few chapters ready by mid-December.

He set his phone down and looked back at the Trigun manuscript.

January 15th.

Less than two months.

He had to decide soon.

[Note:- Finally, I’ve finished half of Trigun. Now I can write more. I needed to write this chapter, and I still hadn’t finished reading earlier, which is why there was a delay.]