"You've got inspiration?" Kazuya blinked, not sure if he misheard.

"For a new series," Haruki nodded, serious. "Something that could work as an anime. High-quality, too."

"Wait, seriously?" Kazuya's expression twisted in disbelief. "You're telling me that half an hour ago you had nothing, and now after ten minutes of zoning out you're suddenly inspired with a whole new project?"

He was both excited and concerned.

Kazuya had worked with Haruki long enough to know his instincts were good. Very good. He trusted Haruki's work more than most professionals he'd met in his entire career. But even with that trust… this was ridiculous.

Other creators wrestled for months over storyboards, suffered creative blocks, paced hallways, tore their hair out.

But Haruki? He just stood silently at a window and came back with a new concept.

It was absurd.

"…I was zoning out because of the inspiration," Haruki said calmly, as if that made it better.

Kazuya stared.

"…So what's it about?" he asked. "How long will it take you to draft the script?"

"Two days," Haruki replied after a moment's thought.

Kazuya's face tensed. Two days?

He wanted to object on principle. That wasn't how stories were built. But he held his tongue. Haruki wasn't just any writer. He'd pulled this off before.

"And the concept?"

Haruki folded his arms. "It's a story about magic, love, and transformation. Very different from anything I've done before. The title is… Puella Magi Madoka Magica."

Kazuya blinked. "Wait—'Magical Girl Madoka'? That sounds… adorable. Don't tell me it's another tragic drama?"

"Not at all," Haruki said with a straight face. "Didn't I say it's an adventure about love and magic? Nothing depressing about it."

"…Right."

"I'll send you the full nameboards in two days. You'll understand once you see it."

"…All right. I'll wait."

Kazuya was skeptical, but he kept it to himself. Better to let Haruki get the idea on paper first. If it was full of holes, then he'd speak up.

Back home, Haruki didn't bother with his usual routine. Instead, he went straight into the system interface to examine the full content of Puella Magi Madoka Magica.

During his earlier daze, he had already redeemed the project. He just hadn't read through it yet.

And now that he did…

He sighed.

So this was the infamous series that upended the magical girl genre.

He'd seen glimpses of its reputation before mentions in the system's database, notes on trends from the parallel world's anime industry. There was even a nickname attached to its original screenwriter, Gen Urobuchi, who had jokingly called himself a "warrior of love" in early interviews. That label had stuck mostly as fan irony, given how emotionally devastating his stories were.

Haruki had used the same phrase once, early in his career, before realizing it might backfire. Fans were already starting to joke that he had a "cruel streak," given the bittersweet tone of his recent works.

Madoka wasn't going to help that reputation.

He had hoped to move toward something lighter slice-of-life, comedy, even a classic romance. Something like Kaguya-sama, Nozaki-kun, or I Want to Eat Your Pancreas. Or even a silly gag series like Daily Lives of High School Boys.

But the system had served him this.

He groaned. "Why is it always trauma?"

It wasn't that he disliked these stories. On the contrary he loved them. The structure, the emotional subversion, the slow-burn descent into something darker than expected. Madoka was a masterclass in that regard. But still…

Would this just cement his image as "that creator who keeps making people cry"?

The deeper he read, the more conflicted he felt.

The first few episodes were sweet. Lighthearted, even. Magical girls, cute companions, wish-granting contracts it all felt familiar.

Then episode three happened.

The tone snapped. Warmth gave way to horror. And it only got worse from there.

By the end… he sat back, drained.

He looked out the window. The city was asleep. The sky was ink-black and still.

"…There's no way I can walk back the 'tragic writer' label after this," he muttered.

But the story was good. Too good to ignore. It was tight, stylish, emotionally rich, and devastating in the best way. It turned a tired genre inside out.

Haruki exhaled slowly.

"Forget it. I've got it now. Might as well do it right."

He pulled out his sketchpad and began drafting nameboards for the pilot.

If the audience cursed him later—well, that was just part of the process.

He smirked to himself.

"…I'm blaming the system either way."

[TL: I know Madoka Magica should be an S-tier story. I thought about changing the ranking, but after some thought, I decided to keep it as is. I'm not sure how the author's mind works! Natsume's Book of Friends gets an S, while this genre-defining work gets an A and an A. But hey, that's just the author's opinion.]

(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)