Episode 8

From social media alone, it was easy to tell why this week's magazine was so well received. But the manga industry still operated on a somewhat outdated system. There was an online platform, sure—but physical copies were still far more dominant, so we had to wait a full week for the official rankings to be released.

Sato, sitting in his office, was overjoyed. He knew exactly why the magazine had sold so well: Parasyte. Yet most of his coworkers had no clue what was driving the sudden surge in popularity.

'My instincts tell me this is only the beginning.' Word of mouth will spread, and sales will only continue to skyrocket.

'No need to stress over this,' Sato thought, a confident grin tugging at his lips. Sooner or later, they'll all know exactly why this issue was such a hit.

He had no more doubts. He wasn't just convinced—he knew.

This was the rebirth of Japanese comics.

Just as Sato suspected, most people at Shueisha still didn't understand why this week's magazine sales were so strong on the very first day.

The editor-in-chief, Mr. Takashi, was beaming with pride. "This has to be because of Robot-boy Climax!" he declared confidently.

'It was a brilliant move on my part to take that guy under my wing,' he thought smugly, convinced that his own judgment was the sole reason for the magazine's success.

He didn't stop there. With a dismissive glance toward the rest of the staff, he muttered under his breath, "These newcomers—always chasing the next big thing without understanding what really sells. It's my experience that counts."

Unaware that the real game-changer was quietly shaking the foundation of the magazine's future, Mr. Takashi continued to bask in his own self-importance.

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of a local bookstore, Haruna stood in front of the magazine rack, flipping through titles absentmindedly.

Her eyes landed on the bold lettering of Weekly Shonen Jump. She hadn't read manga in a long time—it reminded her of that drawing one of her students had been showing off in class. Almost without thinking, she picked up a copy and brought it to the register.

Later that evening, with a steaming mug of tea in hand and the distant chirping of cicadas echoing through her open window, Haruna sat on her balcony. She hadn't followed manga seriously since middle school, but as she flipped through the pages, something dormant began to stir inside her.

And then she saw it.

A one-shot titled "Parasyte."

"Oh... this must be the one I saw on his phone," she murmured, intrigued.

She began reading. The opening pages were cryptic and unsettling, presenting a mysterious tone with an unsettling question at its core: Were humans the real problem all along?

Curiosity piqued, she turned the page—strange, spherical objects were descending from the sky. Upon contact with the ground, they twisted and morphed into what looked like bizarre, worm-like creatures.

"What are those?" she whispered. "Are these... the parasites?"

Then came the unsettling moment—one of the creatures burrowed into a human host.

"Ugh, that's disgusting... and kind of scary," she muttered, instinctively pulling her tea a little closer. Still, she kept reading.

Finally, the scene shifted.

There he was—the boy from the first page. The one she vaguely remembered from the artwork circulating online. A normal teenager, lying asleep with headphones on. The parasite slithered around him, searching for a way in. It crept toward his nose—but was suddenly rejected.

Haruna turned the page, her eyes widening.

The parasite, now writhing furiously, attempted to burrow into the boy's arm. He panicked—grabbing a pair of headphones and tying them around his arm to block its path.

Haruna blinked. "He's thinking fast... Not bad."

She continued reading, watching as the parasite, unable to reach the brain, dug into his arm instead.

"That's... not good," she whispered, disturbed yet unable to stop reading.

Then came the transformation.

The boy—Shinichi, she finally read his name—watched in horror as the creature began merging with his right hand. The artwork was unsettling: the tendrils, the biological shifts, the grotesque mutation of flesh.

Haruna covered her mouth. "God… the art's intense. It's like something out of a nightmare."

She flipped another page.

The next morning, Shinichi woke up convinced it had all been a dream. He laughed it off—until his hand suddenly sprouted an eyeball.

Haruna nearly dropped her mug.

"What the hell?!"

Now the parasite could talk. It explained everything in a flat, clinical tone: it had failed to reach his brain and instead took over his hand. Its voice in the manga was disturbingly calm, emotionless—even as it demonstrated its ability to twist Shinichi's hand into grotesque, shifting forms.

Haruna leaned in closer, both fascinated and disturbed.

"Okay… this is way better than I expected."

But it wasn't just horror—there was something strangely philosophical about it. The parasite didn't hate humans. It was simply... a different lifeform trying to survive.

As Shinichi struggled to process the situation, Haruna found herself empathizing.

What would I do in his place? she thought.

When the chapter ended with a tense, looming sense of danger—other parasites, successful ones, clearly out there—Haruna sat back, the magazine resting on her lap.

She exhaled slowly.

"That was... incredible."

She stared out into the twilight, cicadas still chirping faintly.

Meanwhile, Yu was in the middle of his third set at the local gym, sweat dripping steadily down his brow. His arms trembled slightly as he pushed the dumbbells up in a controlled motion, exhaling through clenched teeth. It had been quite a while now since he'd reincarnated, and consistent training was finally starting to show. His body—once scrawny and neglected—still appeared neglected but Yu could feel that he had more energy and was less and less tired.

He set the weights down and rolled his shoulders, breathing deeply.

One step closer to looking like a real protagonist, he thought, smirking to himself.

The gym wasn't crowded. A few college students were chatting near the squat racks, while some regulars did their routines in silence. Yu preferred it that way. It gave him time to think—about Parasyte, about Sato, about how close he was to turning this world upside down with manga that had already proven timeless in his past life.

He picked up his water bottle and checked his phone.

New message from Sato:"Early results are in. Parasyte is trending. Prepare yourself."

Yu's smirk turned into a grin.