Chapter 4 — Ink and Copies
The problem was obvious the moment Ken came downstairs.
There was only one copy.
He stood behind the counter, staring at the manuscript resting on the wood.
Naruto — Volume 1
One beautifully drawn, carefully bound volume.
And absolutely impossible to sell if it was the only one.
Ken rubbed the side of his temple.
"…Right. Minor oversight."
He had spent the entire night drawing and completely forgotten the business side of things.
No copies meant no sales.
No sales meant no readers.
No readers meant no popularity.
Which meant no progress.
He picked up the manuscript and wrapped it in cloth.
Time to fix that.
The streets of Mondstadt were busier than yesterday.
Merchants were setting up stalls, and a few adventurers were already gathered near the guild.
As Ken walked past the main square, his eyes landed on the city notice board.
Commission sheets.
Festival announcements.
Posters.
All neatly printed.
Not handwritten.
That was enough.
Someone in this city handled printing.
He approached a nearby stall where a man was arranging baskets of fruit.
"Morning," Ken said.
The man looked up. "Morning."
Ken gestured toward the notice board. "Do you know where those get printed?"
The man followed his gaze, then nodded.
"The press workshop. Down artisan lane, near the blacksmith's side street."
Simple.
Exactly what he needed.
Ken gave a small nod. "Thanks."
A few minutes later, he found the place.
A modest workshop with a wooden sign above the door:
Favonius Press & Copyworks
Good enough.
He stepped inside.
The room smelled of ink and paper.
Stacks of notices and pamphlets were spread across a long table, while a hand-operated press stood against the far wall.
Behind the counter, a man in an ink-stained apron looked up.
"Need something printed?"
Straight to the point.
Ken liked that.
He placed the wrapped manuscript on the counter and carefully opened it.
"I need copies of this."
The man glanced down at the cover, then picked it up.
His brows furrowed.
"…A book?"
"Something like that."
The man flipped it open.
A page turned.
Then another.
His expression shifted almost immediately.
"What is this?"
Ken leaned lightly against the counter.
"A story."
The printer gave him a look. (The person, btw, not the actual machine,idk what theyre called)
"With drawings?"
Ken's mouth curved slightly.
"That's usually how stories with drawings work."
The man snorted at that and kept reading.
A few more pages passed before he finally closed it.
"Well," he said, setting it down, "it's definitely different than usual stories.."
Different was good.
Different sold.
"How many copies?" the printer asked.
Ken thought for a moment.
No point going too big on the first run.
Start small.
Test demand.
"Twenty."
The man nodded. "That's manageable."
"How long?"
"By tomorrow evening."
Ken gave a small nod.
Perfect.
He placed the manuscript back on the counter.
"Make sure the cover quality is decent."
The printer let out a short laugh.
"Artists."
Ken frowned, "No, just standard."
The man shook his head but didn't argue.
After discussing the price and leaving a deposit, Ken stepped back outside.
The breeze hit him as he walked back toward the main street.
That solved the first problem.
By tomorrow, he'd have actual copies.
Something he could put on shelves.
Something people could buy.
A real first release.
As he passed the notice board again, a thought crossed his mind.
Advertising.
He slowed.
Then looked back at the workshop.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
Maybe he should get a few posters printed too.
After all—
if he was going to change Mondstadt's literary culture,
he might as well market it properly.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Comment brah, its so lonely here