Starting as a Manga Editor-Chapter 88: Forcing Confidence

Tang Yao learned about the readers' reactions the very next day.
Because the questionnaire had asked about players' in-game spending habits, it became obvious to many that Avalon Studio was making an online game—a game that involved real-money transactions.
And since the concept of "anime-style mobile games" didn’t exist in this world yet—and the current market’s online games didn’t align with Fate/Zero’s tone—
readers were extremely worried.
“...What do we do?”
In Avalon Studio,
Everyone was looking to Tang Yao.
They had all read the feedback.
Now, they were waiting for her to make a call.
After all… most of them had come from Mingyu Tech.
And even if this wasn’t exactly the same as what had happened there—
This sudden disruption, just when things seemed to be going well…
It felt eerily familiar.
They’d already failed once.
And this moment—
This tension—
It brought back every single memory of that disaster.
No one knew what to do.
Tang Yao, the center of attention, didn’t speak right away.
She sat calmly in front of her computer, scrolling through reader comments.
Then she slowly closed her eyes.
After a moment of quiet thought, she opened them again.
“We continue with testing.
And prep the first ad trailer for release.”
“…”
Kang Ming opened his mouth—
But hesitated.
“This was always expected,”
Tang Yao said, knowing what he was thinking.
“You reacted the same way when I first said I wanted to make a mobile game, remember?”
“It’s totally normal for readers to be skeptical.
But that doesn’t mean we back down.
First, we run the beta test as planned—otherwise this game will never officially launch.
Second, we work to change their perception.”
“That’s why we made those trailers in the first place.
This is exactly what they’re for.
We can turn this around.”
“…Got it.”
Kang Ming looked at her composed face, paused for a moment, then nodded firmly and walked back to his desk.
Tang Yao turned to Chu Yuxin.
“Reorder the trailers.
Put the one that highlights the anime-style visuals and promotes the Fate/Zero sequel first.
That’s the one we release first.”
“…”
Chu Yuxin frowned deeply.
“But if we do that… doesn’t that make the previous trailer pointless?”
Tang Yao shook her head.
“Not at all. We’ll revise it.
I’ll send you an update plan later.
For now, just get this one ready.”
“…”
Chu Yuxin stared at her for a moment, then nodded.
“Okay.”
If this had been Si Jinliang, he probably would’ve agonized over it—maybe even called a meeting to hear everyone’s opinions.
But Tang Yao?
She didn’t ask anyone.
She just gave clear, confident instructions—and promised to revise the old trailer herself.
Chu Yuxin had known for a long time what kind of game this studio was building.
When she first saw the readers' backlash, she’d felt a wave of déjà vu—
A kind of “Si Jinliang Syndrome.”
She’d thought it was happening all over again.
But looking at Tang Yao now—radiating confidence and composure—
She felt oddly reassured.
“Sun Gong, update the website.
We’ll be adding new characters to the profile section.
I’ll send you the artwork and details shortly.”
Tang Yao kept organizing, planning, and assigning.
The whole studio snapped back into rhythm.
The former Mingyu Tech employees were still nervous, sure—
But Tang Yao’s presence, her steadiness, had clearly calmed them.
No one froze.
Everyone got back to work.
Tang Yao, meanwhile, started running around again.
Two hours later, she finally paused—
stepping out of the studio and heading to the bathroom.
Women’s restroom.
Stall.
Tang Yao closed the door…
But she didn’t use the toilet.
She stood there, facing it, her small fists clenched, her slender body trembling slightly.
But after a moment, she steadied herself.
She pressed a hand gently against her chest and took a deep breath.
It wasn’t the bathroom that stank—
It was the disinfectant. That strong, acrid smell.
Still, maybe that was what helped her clear her head.
She adjusted her expression, turned to leave—
Then her phone buzzed.
She glanced at it—
Li Xue had messaged her:
“I want to eat with you (ﾉ>ω<)ﾉ Right now, ASAP!”
“…”
Tang Yao’s serious expression melted the moment she saw the emoji.
She bit her lip, then typed back quickly:
“I’m really busy right now… give me a couple of days.
I’m fine, don’t worry.”
No sooner had she hit send than another message came in.
This time—from Rumi-sensei.
Tang Yao shook her head, pocketed her phone, and stepped out of the stall.
By the time she returned to the office—
She was back to her usual self: calm, composed, in control.
She walked straight to Kang Ming.
“Give me a unique test code. I want to send it to someone.”
“Huh?”
Kang Ming turned, surprised.
“One of the testers from round one?”
Tang Yao shook her head.
“No.
A top-tier mangaka.”
At the same time.
Wenxin Press.
The Women’s Editorial Department.
Many editors were sneaking glances toward the Deputy Editor-in-Chief’s desk.
They were shocked.
Because the woman who always had it together—
The one who could keep a straight face even if the sky were falling—
Was visibly agitated.
She clutched her phone, standing up, sitting down, back and forth…
Her usual calm, beautiful face was laced with worry.
And she wasn’t alone.
Rumi-sensei was worried, too—
Though her concerns were… different.
She sat in her studio, staring at her phone, where Tang Yao had not only ignored her objections but gone ahead and sent her a beta code along with detailed installation instructions.
She gave a helpless laugh and muttered:
“The readers don’t even know it’s a mobile game yet, and they’re already this nervous…
If they find out…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
Just shook her head.
Of course she understood Fate/Zero’s current situation—Tang Yao had explained it all.
And the backlash?
She’d expected it.
What she hadn’t expected… was how stubborn Tang Yao—this so-called “Third-Rate Artist”—turned out to be.
“...What kind of person is she, really?
Please don’t let her be like my editor…”
Rumi’s expression grew odd.
And suddenly, she wasn’t all that excited about meeting this fellow female mangaka anymore.
Still.
Even if readers were anxious, they weren’t so panicked they wouldn’t fill out the questionnaire.
Plenty were still curious.
So the survey responses came in steadily.
In the end, Tang Yao personally filtered the results—
Selecting around 2,000 players for the beta test.
Soon after, beta launch day arrived.
All selected participants received messages from Avalon Studio.
And once they realized the test was for a mobile game, they all—
Without exception—
Reacted with shock.
Because this wasn’t just some generic online game.
This was…
Explosive.
That very same day.
Rumi adjusted her glasses, followed the instructions…
And opened the site.