Chapter 1: I Don't Want to Draw Hentai Comics!

The anime world was hit with a shocking news story.

Internationally renowned anime producer, and five-time winner of Best Director for anime series, Shinbu- sensei, was found dead from overwork in his studio!

"Jeez! I knew he was working way too hard! The company doctor warned him a long time ago!"

"The king of grinding is dead? What’s going to happen to his new series?!"

Fans online were in disbelief. Over a million flowers were sent for his online memorial.

However, a certain famous anime critic, after typing out a heartfelt tribute on his keyboard, turned to his wife and said, "We're having celebration noodles tonight!"

Another well-known manga artist yelled at his second-place trophy, "That workaholic finally worked himself to death! I can finally be number one!"

A former female assistant who worked under Master Tan Shinbu shouted, "That maniac who tortured me with endless work is finally dead!"

...

Parallel world, Tokyo, Japan.

Inside a rundown apartment by the train tracks.

“Did I really transmigrate? I was an anime director, and now I’m in the body of a washed-up Japanese guy…” a scruffy, disheveled young man muttered to himself in front of a cracked mirror.

This was Shinbu, who had transmigrated and was trying to adapt to his new body.

The memories in his mind told him that his name was Shingo Oda.

A student at Tokyo University of the Arts, but six months ago, his parents had died in a car accident.

The driver, a poor man, was sentenced for drunk driving, and there was no compensation.

Without financial support, the original owner of this body had been forced to take a leave of absence from school.

Fortunately, he had some artistic background and managed to land a temporary job drawing backgrounds at an anime studio.

But after arguing with his manga teacher, he got fired...

Last night, after getting paid for some side jobs, the original owner returned to his cheap apartment.

Late at night, he collapsed and died.

And that’s when Tan Shinbu’s soul crossed over.

"Alright, guess I’ll accept this new reality." Shingo Oda stood up, stretched his body, and adjusted his clothes.

The stench of mildew filled his nose...

He glanced around the small, dimly lit room.

It was a mess, with trash strewn everywhere.

Leftover seaweed rice ball wrappers littered the floor. The bedding on the bed was yellowed and unkempt, likely unwashed for who knows how long.

The most noticeable thing in the room was an old, slightly crooked laptop on a rickety desk, complete with a DVD drive.

And the DVD drive was still in use because there were a few discs next to the laptop. The girls on the covers matched the suggestive scenes playing on the screen...

In the corner, there were piles of crumpled tissues.

“No wonder my zipper was down when I woke up…” Shingo rolled his eyes.

He reached out and touched the keyboard.

The greasy keys had Japanese characters like た, さ, は, and か.

Shingo quickly shut off the video, ejected the disc, and put it back in its case.

When it came to DVDs, Shingo realized it had been over a decade since he last used one.

Japan, unlike China, where DVDs had long been obsolete, still had a booming DVD rental market.

Rumbling noises came from outside as large vehicles passed by, causing the old floor to shake slightly.

Shingo walked to the window and pulled back the torn curtains.

It was late spring, early summer, and the sky was overcast, as if it could rain at any moment. A damp breeze blew in.

The cheap apartment was located right next to the train tracks. The rent was affordable, but the noise was constant.

In the distance, he could see signs and banners for small shops, such as izakayas, seafood rice bowls, public baths, and Maidreamin, all uniquely Japanese.

“What year is it now?” He pulled out a cracked-screen phone and frowned.

The original owner of this body was dirt poor. The phone, though a smartphone, was obviously cheap, and there was no money to replace the cracked screen.

At least he could confirm the year was 2024.

He checked his bank account—just like in his memories, only 76,000 yen remained. This was the money the original owner had earned from part-time drawing jobs.

That was barely enough to survive for a month in poverty-level Tokyo.

“Not great.” Shingo shrugged.

In his original life, he’d worked hard enough to buy a luxury apartment. Now, after transmigrating, it felt like he was back at square one...

Ding! A notification sound from the LINE app.

[Oda-kun, about the 30,000 yen you borrowed from me...]

It was a message from a female colleague at the anime company where the original owner had worked.

LINE was Japan's equivalent of WeChat.

Looking at the phone, Shingo was surprised to find that his hand almost instinctively wanted to block her.

Uh... with the help of his new memories, he quickly understood.

The original owner had borrowed money from many friends and coworkers.

And he never paid them back. He even blocked several of them afterward.

“This idiot…” Shingo rolled his eyes at the original owner.

He immediately replied using Japanese honorifics, starting with a formal apology: [I’m terribly sorry, please give me a little more time.]

Then, thinking it over, Shingo decided to call her: "Ah, sorry, I just need a bit more time to gather the money. Yes, I’m really sorry..."

A personal apology, rather than a cold text, is always better, especially when you owe someone money.

He hoped this would buy him some time with his colleague.

Based on his personality, Shingo wasn’t the type to make empty promises.

After hanging up, Shingo frowned.

Japanese society values trust within a group. Once someone starts breaking promises, word spreads fast. If your reputation tanks among friends, your social circle is as good as gone.

"Looks like starting a business with friends is out of the question." Shingo sighed.

He started thinking about how to make money.

The most obvious choice was his expertise in anime direction.

But... Shingo quickly scanned through his memories.

This was a parallel world.

Famous brands like Sony and Toshiba were still around, but many other things were different. For example, the Japanese prime minister's name was completely unfamiliar.

Moreover, iconic series like Dragon Ball and One Piece didn’t exist in this world.

This was a great opportunity for him to shine in the anime industry!

However, while the anime content was different, the industry here was still just as credential-focused as back on Earth. With the original owner’s education and work experience, he’d struggle to even get into a studio, let alone be trusted with directing.

Getting back into anime directing would take years, and Shingo didn’t have the time to start from scratch.

Directing is a profession that takes years of experience. Even though he was skilled, it would be a waste to spend so much time climbing the ladder again...

He searched online, and the results confirmed his thoughts.

He had plenty of ideas to revolutionize the anime industry. But how could he get his foot in the door?

As he pondered, his eyes landed on a small calendar card on the desk, scribbled with the original owner’s handwriting.

It was a free calendar from a supermarket, with the note: [Become a manga artist!]

Seeing those words, Shingo felt a faint residual emotion in his body.

So, the original owner had a strong desire to become a manga artist? Shingo searched his memories.

Indeed, the original owner had loved manga since childhood. That’s why he’d studied at Tokyo University of the Arts and worked part-time as a manga assistant.

Right, if he couldn’t become a director due to his lack of credentials, maybe starting as a manga artist wouldn’t be a bad idea. Shingo suddenly had this thought. He recalled iconic creators of different eras who paved the way with their works.

But drawing *dirty* comics? No way!

Shingo pondered his career plan seriously.

Ding! A notification sound echoed in his mind.

[Transmigration Benefit Activated!]

“As expected, there's a transmigration bonus,” Shingo said flatly.

He wasn’t particularly excited. To him, the knowledge of anime from Earth was the greatest advantage of his transmigration, with or without a system.

[I’m in Tokyo, Falling in Love System...]

"Nope." Shingo’s face went cold.

He had already decided to focus on manga. Who has time for romance? Besides, why add a system that had nothing to do with his plans for anime?

But since it was irrelevant, wasn’t this a waste?

[404 Error]

[……]

[……]

The system fell silent for a long time.

A background image of a twin-tailed, white-haired girl appeared, shaking her fingers as a temporary loading screen.

After a long pause, the system sputtered back to life with a new message:

[Correction, Anime Overlord System Activated!]

*(End of Chapter)*

This chapter was a setup for a manga artist’s journey in Tokyo.