“Merlin, I have a new draft for you to work on.”

A middle-aged man opened the door with a wide smile, his eyes immediately settling on the young man absorbed in his work.

At the sound of his voice, Merlin stopped and turned his chair toward him.

“New draft? Is that from The Lost Hero?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes, from that novel,” the middle-aged man replied with a small chuckle. He walked over and set the draft on the desk—a thick stack of more than a hundred sheets.

Merlin stared at it blankly before finally asking in surprise, “Why is there another draft? Didn’t Michiku-sensei hand one in just three days ago? I haven’t even finished that yet.”

He pointed to another pile of papers on his desk. “How could he write another draft in such a short time? And besides…”

His gaze shifted doubtfully to the new stack. “This one looks huge. It could be half a volume, right?”

The middle-aged man let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples.

“To be honest, I’m surprised too, Merlin. But you know how popular that novel is. The chief editor wants to push sales so the profits from this volume will be even higher. For that reason, Michiku-sensei was forced to work hard to meet the chief’s ambitions.”

That statement made the corners of Merlin’s lips twitch. Just recalling that fat, short man with his thin mustache and slanted eyes was enough to give him a headache.

“That damn man…” he growled.

The company’s chief editor—Nakahama Ichiro—was strict and demanding. If there was anyone Merlin hated the most, it was him.

The fat man was not only stingy but also cruel. Editors were practically forced to work overtime every day, reviewing the endless stream of drafts that came into their projects.

Fortunately, the overtime pay was decent. Even so, Merlin hated it. He was human too—he needed peace, comfort, and a little enjoyment in life.

What was the point of all that money if his days were nothing but work, ending only in illness or depression?

Sadly, he didn’t have the power to refuse. Not only was he in desperate need of money, but the salary at this company was also far higher than anywhere else.

On top of that, they were handling many popular works—including a novel called The Lost Hero.

It was a light fantasy harem novel. As the title suggested, the main character was a lost hero.

He was discovered by the royal family and trained to defeat the great enemy—the Dark God Valgrath.

To be honest, the storyline was pretty ordinary. At best, it was mid-level.

The protagonist, Abel, trained hard under the royal family’s guidance. After that, he set out on adventures with the princess and other heroines.

There was even an academy arc, where Abel was underestimated by everyone, only to turn the tables and finally earn their recognition.

Although it was only a mid-level novel, its lighthearted story and target audience—young readers—made it extremely popular. This update is available on novel·fire.net

Sales had even surpassed five million copies in the first quarter alone, a clear testament to its popularity.

As a result, that annoying chief editor, Nakahama Ichiro, became hell-bent on speeding up the release of the latest volumes.

And unfortunately, Merlin—who happened to be in charge of The Lost Hero project—was forced to work overtime for an entire month.

“Pfft!” The middle-aged man chuckled, patting Merlin’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset, but come on, cheer up! You’re lucky to be in charge of this project, you know? Just think—if everything goes perfectly, you’ll get an amazing bonus, probably ten times your salary. And on top of that, your name will spread among novelists, and they’ll be scrambling to submit their works to you. Isn’t that your dream? Wasn’t that your goal when you joined this company?”

Those words snapped Merlin out of his thoughts. His eyes widened slightly as he remembered his past motivation.

The reason he joined this company and became an editor wasn’t just for the money. He had one true purpose—to keep great works from going to waste.

Ever since elementary school, Merlin had loved reading novels, both legal and pirated. That passion followed him all the way into college.

During that time, he often came across works he considered masterpieces, only to see them end tragically—either because the author went on hiatus or never had the chance to enter a major publishing project.

From then on, he was determined to become an editor to prevent that from happening again. The novel he was working on now—The Lost Hero—was one of the works he had managed to save.

Previously, none of the editors had even glanced at it, most of them dismissing it outright.

But thanks to his advice and suggestions, the company eventually accepted the novel as a project. Who would have thought his choice was right? The book took off and became hugely popular.

The middle-aged man’s words quickly reminded Merlin of his purpose from the past.

Noticing the spark of enthusiasm returning to Merlin’s face, the man smiled faintly. He walked over to the dispenser in the corner, filled a plastic cup with cold water, and handed it to Merlin.

“This is for you. Keep up the good work,” he said softly, patting Merlin’s right shoulder.

“Thank you, Kizui-san.” Merlin smiled slightly as he took a sip of the water.

“Alright, I should get going. My wife’s waiting at home—I can’t let her be lonely,” Kizui joked.

At that, Merlin choked on his drink and shot him a hateful glare.

“Damn you, Kizui-san! Just get out!” He spat angrily.

Just because he was single, that damn guy had to bring it up.

“Hahaha!” Kizui burst into laughter as he turned and waved his hand. “Bye, Merlin. Good luck with your work.”

With that, he walked out the door and disappeared from view.

Merlin shook his head and turned his focus back to the pile of papers in front of him.

Stretching his stiff body, he whispered, “Alright, let’s get serious. Michiku-sensei worked hard on these drafts—it’d be impossible for me to let his effort go to waste.”

Without hesitation, he threw himself into the work with renewed energy.

Before he knew it, three hours had passed, and nearly eighty percent of the task was done.

“Phew, that was exhausting,” he sighed, glancing at the clock—it was already two in the morning. His eyes drifted across the office.

The place was empty. Every chair besides his own sat vacant, while the desks were cluttered with belongings left behind by other employees.

Merlin yawned, a heavy wave of fatigue pressing down on him.

“Maybe half an hour of sleep won’t hurt,” he muttered.

After thinking it over, he decided to rest for a bit. Fortunately, he was the type who always woke easily to an alarm. He quickly set one on his smartphone, then leaned forward and rested his head on the desk.

But just as his eyelids began to close, a soft voice echoed in his ears.

‘Welcome, my dear. I’ve been waiting for you…’

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep