Chapter Sixty-Nine: Walking on Two Legs

William White’s comic universe is marked by grand ambition—once you grasp his vision, you’ll see why the established giants of the industry are left with headaches and anxiety. Transformers, of course, cannot be abandoned; the comic itself may not stand out, but the toys are bestsellers. Unfortunately, Gundam already owns the mecha warrior niche, so the money must be spent—better to secure the toy licensing first.

Fist of the North Star and Saint Seiya are slated as the fighting series, with the former’s backdrop evoking the flavor of westerns—perhaps, in a sense, it’s a return to its roots. Admittedly, William White’s shamelessness knows few bounds.

Overall, this comic weekly is far too intense and passionate; it’s likely that the CCA will mark everything with an X. To add a touch of entertainment, The Simpsons have also been brought in—don’t underestimate this comic, for it’s the evergreen of America, broadcast on television for decades, and a true reflection of a generation.

At this point in time, Japanese comics still lean toward American styles, but William White has taken a turn toward Japanese influences, and one imagines their artists must be thrilled. Such an ambitious plan requires a team of at least several hundred—not something that can be assembled overnight.

Fortunately, he has plenty of time, and the American CCA seems intent on loosening its regulations. If they don’t, chaos would ensue—underground comics would sweep the market, causing untold damage.

The Americans are peculiar; Prohibition bred criminal syndicates, and the harmful-comics theory created a thriving underground comic scene. Whatever they ban inevitably spawns a new industry.

His comic weekly is decidedly an oddity—not the style of American comics, nor does it fit in with contemporary Japanese manga.

Sales? William White isn’t worried. Comics, at their core, are about storytelling. As long as your tale captivates, everything else becomes secondary.

A curious thing: Japanese language is notoriously complex—they could craft a book from a single sentence—yet their comics are strikingly concise, with language pared down to the bone. Americans, on the other hand, fill their comics with lengthy passages of text, which is rather absurd. Foreign readers dislike this; if you can read original Japanese manga, you’d find American comics incomprehensible.

Of course, if you have a high level of English proficiency, that’s different, but many Americans lack such vocabulary. While their spoken English is fine, their writing skills are often lacking.

Such is the American education system: you’re either a genius or nearly illiterate. Don’t be surprised—speaking and understanding are two different things.

Japanese manga resembles their action films, filled with onomatopoeia and crude, accessible language. William White must adopt this style; if everything were in formal speech, the visuals would vanish, replaced by strange text.

This is a collision of cultures. Americans assign comics an odd mission—hoping for educational value—while the Japanese are straightforward: comics exist for entertainment, with no qualms about bold content, thanks to a robust rating system.

William White’s comics are published worldwide; even if American censorship fails, at worst there’s a delay, and if necessary, fans can purchase them covertly. As long as he doesn’t participate directly, he need not worry—underground comics have become an industry chain.

With the development mapped out, William White began categorizing the comics. Transformers and The Simpsons suit the American style, while the other works are Japan’s forte. Their artists, often reclusive, are perfect for these projects.

Looking at the mountain of folders piled on his desk, William White let out a sigh of relief. Finally, it’s resolved. Though it’s only a collection of outlines and background notes, it’s daunting enough. These are his greatest assets from his journey across worlds; without a reliable mind, none of this could be retained.

Could creating so many comic characters at once invite accusations of plagiarism? Unlikely, and even if it does, let them talk to Stan Lee. William White’s roster of characters is modest compared to that old man’s—over five thousand, each with a distinctive name, enough to make anyone’s head spin.

“Foster, put these in the safe.”

“Yes, young master. Don’t overwork yourself—take care of your health,” Foster said with concern.

William White could only offer a wry smile. “It’s alright, Foster. This phase is over; things won’t be so busy from now on.”

Foster was gratified by his young master’s transformation—this was the demeanor of a true family head, far better than the wastrel of old.

His toil is relative, for a host of attendants serve him. He may not live entirely hand-to-mouth, but in broad strokes, that’s about the extent of it.

Hemingway, at the height of his fame, never enjoyed such luxury—these things cannot be dictated aloud.

Comic outlines are exceedingly complex, requiring not just background descriptions but also character development. The main cartoon characters’ images must be drawn, which is no easy feat.

Japanese manga forms its own distinct school, especially in depicting women—far removed from reality. If someone’s eyes occupy half their face, it would frighten anyone into paralysis.

You can sculpt a Barbie doll, and some have tried this in later years. But if you attempt to create an Athena, the result would be terrifying.

Body depiction is also problematic. The characters’ backstories may fit adults, but if they’re underage, the CCA will certainly ban them.

Does reaching adulthood solve the issue? Not at all—feminist organizations will trouble you next, and you can’t escape accusations of discrimination.

This era marks the budding of feminism. They themselves have no clear standards—portraying their intelligence is fine, but using their bodies as weapons is unacceptable.

These activists are simply riding the wave. No matter how William White adapts, he’ll inevitably shatter someone’s fragile sensibilities.

If the protagonist is female, it’s even worse—your work becomes an explosion of passion, seen as blatant discrimination.

William White’s strategy is all about foresight. If America bans sales, he’ll sell abroad. Let them do as they please; at worst, he won’t sell weeklies and will market standalone volumes instead.

Are they planning to prohibit all comic publications?

If it comes to that, it could even be spun into a marketing ploy: a globally best-selling comic banned in America.

In this era of rampant counterculture, such comics would sell in astronomical numbers.

Comics are his long-term investment for the future world, never to be derailed by external meddling. This is a business that earns money while he lies back—it must not fail.

America has many lucrative industries; pharmaceuticals and insurance are perennial leaders, but they’re fraught with risks, where a single misstep can spell disaster.

The entertainment industry is less prominent; no single media company dominates, and influence is largely regional.

Entertainment is even more inconsequential. The so-called “Big Seven” are hardly valuable—the weakest, United Artists, is valued at just four hundred million dollars, and Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer is about the same.