Chapter 258: The Hierarchy of Literary Contempt

July 4, 1993, noon.

Ichimura Kenta sat at his desk with a cup of coffee, frowning as he looked at the words "Rashomon" on the manuscript.

He was the editor-in-chief of the *Yuno* editorial department at the Keihan Publishing House, and he was also responsible for reviewing all submitted manuscripts.

Logically, this task should have been left to ordinary editors; after all, with such a high volume of submissions, it was impossible for the editor-in-chief to review them one by one.

However, this particular manuscript had been submitted through a personal connection, and even if only for the sake of that acquaintance, he had to give it a proper look.

Furthermore, the author of this manuscript was none other than Akiwara Yuto, a man who had recently become famous in the mystery genre.

Thinking of this name, Ichimura Kenta's expression grew even more unpleasant.

Among the many literary genres, pure literature or traditional literature had the lowest sales, yet it held the highest social status.

This led those in the field to often adopt a condescending attitude toward popular writers who catered to the masses, such as mystery writers.

Therefore, these pure literature writers or critics were often instinctively resistant to popular writers who wanted to transition into writing pure literature.

In Ichimura Kenta's view, Akiwara Yuto, who had submitted to *Yuno*, was exactly this type of person.

He should have been sticking to his mystery writing instead of trying to enter the realm of pure literature!

Not only that, but to try and get in through a personal connection—this was undoubtedly a desecration!

Ichimura Kenta's dissatisfaction grew even deeper; he believed that truly excellent works of pure literature could not be written by commercial authors like Akiwara Yuto, who only knew how to please the masses!

Don't think that just because you're famous, I'll let your manuscript pass easily!

He took a sip of coffee, then picked up the manuscript, preparing to read it through to make corrections and provide a response—if it were too poor, he would write a rejection letter in harsh terms after finishing, determined to give the other party a thorough dressing-down.

He lowered his head and began to read.

A servant's perspective, weighing survival against morality? Someone has already explored this angle before, hasn't they? It's nothing more than choosing morality in the end!

As expected, it was a boring, cliché piece of writing.

He circled a line on the photocopied manuscript with his editing pen and wrote his evaluation: Repetitive tropes.

He paused, mocked the work in his heart, and then continued reading.

But as he read on, following the development of the plot between the servant and the old woman, he found himself involuntarily putting down his pen and becoming absorbed in the story.

Huh? The old woman makes a living using the hair of the dead? And she actually justifies it by telling a story about using snake meat to pass for fish?

Huh? After hearing this, the servant actually abandons his morality entirely for the sake of survival!? This is not at all what I expected.

What the hell, he actually stole the old woman's clothes and disappeared! He's turned into a robber!

This work is actually somewhat interesting! It's not the cliché trope I thought it would be.

Ten minutes passed in an instant, and Ichimura Kenta had finished reading the entire piece.

He did not immediately make an evaluation; instead, he read it three more times before lifting his head, stroking his beard, and pondering.

The literary depth of this work seems to be deeper than I thought!

The down-and-out servant comes to Rashomon because he has nowhere else to go. But under this gate, he sees the distance between life and death—many have died, but only one is alive.

Rashomon, at this moment, represents the divide between life and human nature.

In the beginning, he still possessed human nature, preferring to starve rather than resort to theft or crime; when he first saw the old woman plucking hair from the corpses, he felt intense anger and disgust.

However, when the old woman explained her reasons for doing evil as if it were only natural, the servant transformed into a devil in the blink of an eye.

This led him to strip the old woman of her clothes without hesitation and walk away without looking back.

This abrupt transformation of good and evil is undoubtedly contrary to the Confucian idea of the inherent goodness of human nature, suggesting instead that human nature is influenced by the environment.

But just as he confirmed this thought, he suddenly saw the title: the three characters "Rashomon."

He stood up, found a reference book on the nearby shelf, and flipped to a specific page.

After repeated comparisons, he finally understood the meaning of "Rashomon."

"Rashomon" refers to the gate set at the "Rajo" (city wall), meaning the "Capital Gate."

In the ninth century, the imperial power declined and civil wars were frequent. Because the Rajo Gate was left in disrepair, it became desolate and eerie after falling into ruin.

Many nameless corpses were dragged to the gate tower and discarded; over the years, Rashomon had left an impression in people's minds as a gloomy, terrifying place where ghosts gathered.

After finishing the explanation, the Rashomon in Ichimura Kenta's eyes faintly became a representation of "hell on earth."

He shuddered and fell into deep thought.

The things this guy Akiwara Yuto writes are a bit different from what I first thought!

Among works of pure literature, this piece can definitely be considered a masterpiece!

But what does he mean? Does he want to transition from a mystery writer to a pure literature writer? Or is he just practicing?

Damn it, this guy's literary talent is too high! I can't even find a reason to reject the manuscript!

He thought this, then scratched his head in distress, resulting in a few hairs coming out.

In the end, he sighed deeply.

Forget it, I'll accept it; consider it a favor to an acquaintance!

At the same time, Akiwara Yuto received a call from the father of his student, Toyama Miho—Toyama Shuichi, a literature professor at Kyoto University.

"Akiwara-sensei, why did you suddenly decide to write a work of pure literature?" Toyama Shuichi asked in a puzzled tone.

He found it very strange; after all, while works of pure literature had high prestige, their sales were limited, and the genre was in decline, receiving less and less attention from the public.

Furthermore, the pure literature crowd loved to form cliques and had always held a disdainful attitude toward the popular literature world.

Logically speaking, as a popular mystery writer, Akiwara Yuto had no need to write such things; it was entirely thankless work.

Akiwara Yuto was not surprised that Toyama Shuichi knew about his submission. After all, the literary circle and the academic circle were intertwined—many writers were teachers who wrote on the side.

He thought for a moment, but didn't mention that he just wanted to see if he could win a pure literature award; he simply made up an excuse.

"I just wanted to try it out. I will still continue to write mysteries."

Although Toyama Shuichi was skeptical, he accepted the explanation and advised: "Akiwara-sensei, if possible, you should be a bit careful in the future."

"Be careful? Why?" Akiwara Yuto asked, confused.

He had only submitted one manuscript; what was there to be careful about?

Toyama Shuichi advised: "Akiwara-sensei, you are, after all, a representative figure in the mystery world. If you rashly write pure literature, both the critics and the literary world might have some things to say."

Akiwara Yuto frowned, realizing that this was indeed a possibility.

However, he didn't take it to heart; the phenomenon of literary figures belittling one another was common, whether in his past life or here, at home or abroad.

The worst-case scenario was nothing more than some verbal sparring.

Thinking of this, he relaxed, chatted with Toyama Shuichi about his daughter for a while, and then ended the call.

But what he didn't know was that the publication of this *Rashomon* would have a greater impact than he had imagined...