Chapter 53:FMA Final of Chapter Twenty
Alex glanced at her, didn't refuse, handed her a pail. "Follow me, stay quiet, cows are afraid of strangers."
The barn was warm, smelling of hay and animals. A dozen cows ate quietly. Seeing a stranger, a few looked up curiously.
Alex started milking. Skilled, smooth movements. Watching, Samantha remembered Hachiken's first milking scene in Silver Spoon—the clumsiness, the tension, the real touch.
It all came from mornings like this.
"Want to try?" Alex asked suddenly.
"Can I?" Her eyes lit up.
"Hand here, gentle, don't pull hard." Alex guided her.
Samantha squatted, trying carefully. First time, sprayed milk on her face. Second time, hand slipped. Third time, finally a thin stream came out.
"Success!" She said excitedly.
Alex's lips seemed to curve slightly. "Yeah, continue."
They worked for an hour, filling two pails. Walking out, the sun was fully up. Sarah took the milk at the kitchen door, smiling. "This girl is quite capable."
"Teacher taught well." Samantha blushed.
After breakfast, 8:00 AM sharp, Alex entered the studio. Samantha followed, sitting on a small stool in the corner with her sketchbook.
Alex started drawing the finale of FMA Chapter 20. It was the night before the counterattack, characters preparing in different locations. He drew slowly, deliberating every panel.
Samantha watched breathlessly. She saw Alex adjust the angle of Roy cleaning his gun repeatedly; modify Riza's eye direction three times while checking files; even redraw the entire background for Ling Yao looking at the eastern moon.
No burst of inspiration, no smooth sailing, only harsh polishing.
So this is how a masterpiece comes—stacking perfect moments with countless revisions.
12:00 PM, Alex stopped. Saved file, stood up to stretch.
"Teacher," Samantha whispered, "do you do this every time?"
"Yeah." Alex said. "Good works are revised out. How many times do you revise The Thorn Bird?"
She blushed. "Usually... twice. At most three times."
"Too few." Alex pulled a draft book of FMA Vol 1 from the shelf. "This is the draft for Chapter 1. Revised twenty-seven times."
Samantha took it, flipping through. From initial messy storyboards to forming composition, to final draft—twenty-seven times, each time improving, closer to the ideal state.
"I understand." She closed the book seriously. "I will do this too."
"Don't copy me." Alex said. "Find your own method. But one thing is common—being responsible to the work is being responsible to the reader."
Afternoon, Samantha helped with farm work. She learned to collect hay, clumsy but serious. John saw her sweating, handed her a water bottle. "Rest a bit, no rush."
"Thanks uncle." She sat on a haystack.
In the distance, Alex was checking fences. The sun was good, stretching his shadow long.
Samantha watched that back, something surging inside. She sketched this scene quickly—not a manga panel, but a sketch, life itself.
Drawing, she suddenly understood. Before, she drew The Thorn Bird with "imagined deep affection," "designed emotion." Alex drew FMA with "real life," "emotion grown from life."
This was the essential difference.
Night, she revised The Thorn Bird Chapter 8 in her room. This chapter was originally a melodramatic scene of the sister falling ill and the protagonist healing her with song. But now, looking at those designed tears, she felt they were fake.
She deleted everything. Redraw.
Drawn the sister's smile enduring pain, drawn the protagonist biting her lip when turning away, drawn the tenderness neither spoke of.
No melodrama, no dog blood, just reality.
Deep into the night, she put down the pen, looking at the new eight pages. Right, this time it was right.
This was the story she wanted to tell. Not a tragedy earning tears, but tenderness shining in suffering.
Three days later, Samantha was leaving. Morning, she packed, waiting for Sue's car in the yard.
Alex came out of the barn, handing her a small notebook.
"This is..." Samantha took it.
"My creation notes from these three days." Alex said. "Not teaching you how to draw, but how I think. How much you realize depends on you."
She opened it. Dense notes: character psychology deduction, plot rhythm calculation, emotional climax design... no technique explanation, all creative thinking.
"Teacher..." Her eyes were hot.
"Go back and draw The Thorn Bird well." Alex said. "Remember, you don't need to be a second me. You need to become a better White Night."
"Yes!" She nodded vigorously.
Sue's car arrived. Before getting in, Samantha looked back. Alex stood at the ranch gate, morning sun gilding his figure.
Ordinary, real.
But this ordinary person drew works she looked up to.
She sat in the car, gripping the notebook.
She would work hard. Become a better Samantha, and a better White Night.
Then, stand upright before the teacher and say "I did it."
On the way back, Sue asked: "What did you learn these three days, Samantha?"
She looked at the flying fields outside, whispering: "Learned... creation isn't showing off technique, it's living honestly, feeling honestly, telling honestly."
"And you and Alex..."
"He is my teacher, and the target I want to surpass." Samantha smiled, eyes bright. "But surpassing isn't to beat him, it's to prove—the student he taught won't shame him."
Sue smiled too. "Then next..."
"Back to Manga Weekly, draw The Thorn Bird well." She said. "Hiro's side, I will win fair and square with works. As for Teacher..."
She paused, voice light:
"I will step by step, walk to the height where I can stand side by side with him. Then, I hope he can say to me—'You drew well'."
"Just that?"
"That's enough." Samantha looked into the distance. "For a creator, that's the highest praise."
/////
The Editor-in-Chief's office at Weekly Shonen World was filled with smoke. Kane slammed a proposal onto the conference table, his voice cold against the backdrop of the city nightscape outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Hiro's new work Seat of God had a debut approval of 68.9%. That's not bad. But the opponent's scores are—Alex Walker's Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 22 at 79.5%, and White Night's The Thorn Bird Chapter 9 at 76.8%."
He scanned the editors on both sides of the table, tapping his finger heavily on the data sheet. "The gap is widening. Content-wise, we can't beat them. So we won't fight on content; we'll fight with capital."
The Deputy Chief asked carefully, "What do you mean, Chief?"
"Initiate the 'Full-Media Domination Plan'." Kane pulled up a budget sheet. "Phase one investment: 80 million. Three things: First, announce the Seat of God anime adaptation early. Hire the best studio for a teaser PV, bomb the entire internet. Second, simultaneous game development, both card and action versions. Third—"
He paused, enunciating every word: "Buy rankings, bot the data, control the reviews. I want the heat of Seat of God to hit phenomenon levels within a month. If content can't win, drown them in hype."
The room uproar. An editor couldn't help but speak up. "Chief, this violates industry rules..."
"Rules?" Kane sneered. "When we're beaten out of this market, we won't even have the chance to follow rules. The Shonen World Group owns publishers, animation studios, game studios, ad agencies—this is our advantage. Smashing open a path with capital is the new rule."
"But Alex Walker's side..."
(To be Continued)
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