Hollywood: Lights, Ink, Entertainment!

….

.

Next Day.

Regal found himself standing outside a sleek building, the glass windows reflecting the early light of the day.

He reached the location thirty minutes before his scheduled appointment with the editor.

Regal wasn't nervous.

Because he didn't have many hopes to begin with.

Even though he knew the undeniable success potential of ＜Harry Potter＞, he wasn't naïve enough to think he would secure a publisher on his very first tryout itself.

He prided himself on being a realist, someone grounded in the here and now.

Years of rejection in both his past and present life had toughened him, and this was just another step.

It no longer fazed him.

If someone didn't recognize the value of what he was offering? That was their loss, not his.

At exactly 10:25 PM, he walked into Everleaf Press.

His white shirt pressed and tucked, the strap of a sling bag snug over his shoulder.

The building was modest, the office on the second floor. The open door beckoned, and he stepped inside without pause.

Behind the desk, the receptionist glanced up. She appeared to be in her late thirties, offering Regal a polite, professional smile. It was the kind of practiced expression designed to convey just enough warmth without veering into familiarity.

"Hello. How can I help you?"

Regal responded, maintaining neutrality. "I am Regal. I have an appointment with an editor."

Her fingers glided over the keyboard as she quickly scanned the day's appointments.

A few moments later, she nodded, recognition flashing in her eyes. Rising from her seat, she gestured politely.

"Right. Please follow me."

Regal nodded, trailing behind her as he took in the surroundings.

The space was compact, housing a team of perhaps 20 to 25 employees.

They stopped at a door, and she opened it with a quick motion. "Please, wait inside. Someone will join you shortly."

"Thanks." Regal replied, stepping into the room.

It felt more like a small enclosed cabin, with a few racks lining the walls and a table in the middle flanked by two sofas.

As he settled in, a peculiar quietness struck him.

The silence felt… unnatural.

The receptionist who guided him, still outside the room, offered a choice - coffee or tea.

He hesitated briefly, then opted for tea.

Within moments, a cup was placed on the table before him.

"So... Miss, are you the editor?" Regal asked casually as he picked up the cup, though he already knew she wasn't.

Sometimes, you just need to break the ice.

The receptionist blinked, momentarily surprised by the question before recovering quickly.

"Ah, no, I am not." She said, offering a small, polite smile. "Actually, the editor who was supposed to meet you today is on le-"

As she explained, Regal took his first sip of tea.

But suddenly, the door creaked open again.

?Regal's focus snapped to the entrance as the door swung open.

A woman stepped in.

Was she the editor?

No, that didn't fit. He was sure the receptionist had just mentioned something about the editor being on leave.

But if, by some twist, this woman was the editor, she wasn't remotely what he had pictured.

She looked young, perhaps his age or a shade younger.

'…and her face, there was something strikingly familiar about it. Did she always wear glasses back then too?'

She paused just inside, surveying the room.

Her hair was swept into a messy bun, secured by a pen, though a few loose strands framed her face, softening her otherwise sharp features.

There was a quiet charm about her, an understated confidence that felt entirely natural.

Her outfit struck him as... unconventional?

A crisp white button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up as if she were perpetually ready for action, paired with a black mini skirt that ended high on her mid-thigh.

She was… pretty .

Regal's eyes drifted downward.

She wore no footwear, only sheer black pantyhose, her toes flexing lightly against the tiled floor.

'Is that why I didn't hear her approach?'

An instinct stirred within him, subtle but insistent - this woman wasn't an editor.

He didn't need confirmation. His gut told him everything he needed to know.

She was the one running this place.

The thought barely settled in his mind before his system pinged quietly, cementing his suspicions.

"Boss, I have told you not to walk around barefoot in the office." The receptionist's voice sliced through the moment, grounding Regal's thoughts.

And with that, everything clicked into place.

She continued her tone polite but carrying the weight of repetition. "This room is reserved for a meeting to happen."

The woman in the doorway barely acknowledged her words.

Her attention flicked toward Regal, sizing him up with a glance that lasted a moment too long before she casually returned to the receptionist.

"I smelled the tea." She said with a casual shrug, her voice light and unbothered. "Thought little Maggie might be enjoying a break. Didn't know I was interrupting."

A faint, playful smile tugged at her lips, a teasing glint in her eyes that made it clear she wasn't at all apologetic.

Regal's grip on the teacup tightened, and a small smile formed on his face.

Little, huh? The comment lingered in his mind.

Internally, he raised an eyebrow.

The receptionist, little Maggie, was clearly in her forties.

Before Regal could dwell on it, the woman in the doorway shifted her weight and dismissed the moment with a breezy wave of her hand.

"…Anyway, you seem busy. I will leave you to it."

She didn't wait for any response.

Her presence disappeared as swiftly as it had arrived, like a sudden breeze moving through the room, leaving only an unsettling quiet in its wake.

Regal couldn't let it end there.

Something inside him stirred - an instinct, a flicker of ambition.

Words formed before he could stop them.

"I have the best-selling book for the next decade with me."

Thud–!

The door clicked shut behind her.

Her footsteps didn't stop either.

Regal exhaled through his nose, focusing his mind.

He listened closely. Her barefooted steps were light, almost ghostly.

Each one grew fainter until…

Silence.

His jaw tightened. Did it fail?

He couldn't shake the feeling something was off.

Seconds ticked by, stretching into an agonizing minute.

Guess it did not, Regal thought, giving up as he leaned back in his chair.

But then -

Tud–!tud–!

Tud–!tud–!

The echo of footsteps returned.

However, unlike before, they were louder, authoritative, and purposeful - like trying to make their presence known.

The sound of the footsteps reached its peak before stopping again abruptly.

This time, Regal wasn't confused.

He knew exactly where she had halted - directly outside the door.

She had returned.

There was a brief pause, and then -

Creak–!

The door opened again, revealing her.

She looked like a completely different person.

No longer in a loose shirt and skirt, she now wore a coat draped over her outfit, her hair slicked back into a polished ponytail, and sleek heels now adorned her feet.

She stood in the doorway, her gaze sharper than before.

Regal lips curved into a smirk.

"So, do you still stick to your earlier claim?" Her voice was playful, yet carried an undeniable edge, as if daring him to backpedal.

He didn't hesitate.

Confidence radiated from him, unshaken. "A minute and twenty-five seconds. That's how long it took you to return after hearing my claim. Impressive how quickly you readjust. But yes, my words still stand."

Her eyebrows rose, a flicker of surprise breaking her mask of indifference, but she quickly composed herself.

"That's quite a compliment." She replied, her voice measured. "I am not sure if I should thank you or feel insulted."

"If it leans toward the latter." Regal said, his tone light. "I will be sure to apologize."

"...." Her eyes paused on him, then in a moment later they melted into something more curious. "I won't lie, you played that well. You have got my attention."

"Glad it worked out." Regal replied, his tone tinged with satisfaction.

She didn't say anything, just stared at him for a beat longer, the silence stretching.

Regal broke it first. He stood, extending a hand toward her. "I am Regal Seraphsail."

Her hand met his. "Gwendolyn Oulworth."

"Right, Miss Gwendolyn." He said with a nod. "Shall we begin?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, sizing him up once more, before she wordlessly moved to the couch and sat down.

Regal took his seat again, but his attention flickered to his system window, where a familiar cascade of information appeared.

•----•

[Name:] Gwendolyn Oulworth

[Skill:]

» Planning (Rank –> S)

» Management (Rank –> A)

[Traits:] Relaxed, Venturesome, Leaderly

[Unique Skill: ] Resourceful

•----•

Regal swallowed hard, fighting the urge to react outwardly.

His mind raced beneath his calm exterior. She is the real deal.

Since acquiring [Insight], Regal had scanned hundreds of people in his day-to-day life.

She was the first person he had encountered with a unique skill, aside from himself.

His gamble, based on her traits, had paid off.

Relaxed, Venturesome, Leaderly.

He had seen the relaxed nature in her casual entrance, but it was her Venturesome trait that he had been counting on.

And he had been right.

That trait had worked in his favor.

Thank goodness for that. He allowed himself a small, relieved smile.

Otherwise, he would already be out the door.

.

….

[To be continued…]

★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★

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