Outbreak Company, Vol. 6

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By Ichiro Sakaki and Yuugen. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Kevin Steinbach.

It can sometimes be a bit striking how blase this series is about the government of Japan wanting Shinichi to be murdered because he ruined their grand plans. The Japanese side of things are simply one of the villainous factions in the books, and this time around they put into place a new plan: give Shinichi an assistant who turns out to be better than him at everything and watch him slowly lose confidence and break. Or at least, that would be an excellent plan if that was their actual intent. Because in that respect it works out quite well, and it’s only the heartfelt feelings of Myucel that manage to win him back from depressed land. No, instead Japan and the new character seem to be dedicated to destroying the country through commerce one way or another, and while they don’t succeed, things do get a bit dicey. Fortunately, as always, Shinichi is here to win the day with a really irritating otaku speech that grates on my nerves.

On the cover is Hikaru, who is the new Japanese “assistant” to Shinichi who is there to shake things up. Honestly, she should share the cover with Shinichi, but I know a lot of light novels refuse to have the main character on the covers, possibly as they still tend to think in terms of “faceless unseen protagonist” from ero games. Speaking of ero games, Hikaru is willing to do anything to get profits for the Japanese side, even if that means importing trading cards (the rare ones immediately get traded for massive amounts of money) and, yes, erotic games, which is causing the kids of Shinichi’s school to turn into, well, puberty-infested boys who refuse to leave their game. (The fact that the ultimate solution for this issue is to give them body pillows instead of games shows us where the issue ultimately lies.) Unfortunately, turning a bunch of the nobles’ kids into addicts is not what Shinichi had in mind. What’s worse, in the games you can create your own girl to moon over… and some are creating girls that look a lot like the Queen.

There’s a lot of discussion in this volume about the ‘otaku’, and how they’re viewed in Japan. Hikaru seemingly hates them with a passion, and regards them as the root of all evil. Some of this is related to Hikaru’s past, but there is a certain amount of truth to the idea of “let’s find a game/anime we can blame this tragedy on” to both Japan and North America. That said, ‘gaming addiction’ is clearly the motif here, and I really liked the fact that Shinichi accepted that it was ultimately his responsibility for what happened, and he thus sets out to correct things. A kidnapping helps to add a bit of excitement to things (the kidnapping, it turns out, is unrelated to the game issue), but for the most part this volume turns on Shinichi vs. Hikaru, and how they both view this world and the people in it. Shinichi is an empathic guy, as we’ve seen time and time again, and this is why he’s trusted by the Eldian people, despite his goody @D speeches.

Next volume we take a break for short stories, but I’m sure that there’s more political machinations to come. In the meantime, this was a pretty good volume of Outbreak Company. Plus this is past where the anime ended, I believe.

Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 15

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By Mizuho Kusanagi. Released in Japan as “Akatsuki no Yona” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions, Adapted by Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane.

So much of this volume is magical that it’s a bit difficult to know where to begin. There are at least five or six moments that feel like they’d be voted in a “top 10 Yona of the Dawn moments” list. Even leaving Yona herself aside (and trust me, I’ll get to her in a bit), there’s so much going on here involving Riri, as we see her becoming politically active and arguing with her father that politics are all very well and good but not when it means letting your people die and kill each other just to avoid political turmoil. And she’s joined by Su-Won, undercover and wandering the world again, to the exasperation of his bodyguards, who decides to help out this righteous and well-meaning but very naive girl. Especially since everyone in the city keeps questioning every woman they find, looking for the one with the red hair.

Riri is at the beginning of a journey down a path that Yona has long trod, and she knows it too – their parting is very emotional, and there’s a reason that they’re the couple on the cover. (I’ll leave the yuri reading to others, but I will note that Ayura and Tetra are absolutely a couple.) Yona is a leader, and her resolve is what drives everyone around her. A lot of shoujo series make you wonder sometimes why there are five to six guys all in love with the heroine. Yona does not have this problem. Everyone reading it is in love with the heroine. The first thirty pages alone are stunning – Yona attempting to recover from her wounds, her desire to question the villain suddenly overcome by her desire to CUT HIM IN THE FACE when he tries to draw a blade, and her attempts at getting Hak (who is feeling upset, of course) to stop brooding by talking about how it was her choices that led to this. “These are MY injuries” is one of the most powerful lines in the volume.

Aside from the plot and characters, I’ve also grown very fond of the way that Kusanagi crafts the manga itself. Once Su-Won arrives on the scene we know that he and Yona are going to run into each other again, but the moment is put off a number of times as they keep missing each other, or Su-Won runs into Jaeha (who doesn’t know who he is), etc. This lends the moment when they finally do meet extra emphasis. And, much as this is a serious-minded volume for the most part, there is some wonderful art-derived humor involving Riri’s father, who is a parody of the “always remain calm and drink tea” sort of character, not getting upset at all when Riri is screaming out about drugs destroying their country, but when she steals his golden seal (the symbol of the clan’s authority)… well, his face is worth the price of the book in itself.

Every volume of Yona of the Dawn makes me think I’ve reached the high water mark of the series, and then it tops itself. A must read. Again.

ECHO

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By Akira and Oguchi, based on the Vocaloid song by Crusher-P. Released in Japan by PHP Institute. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Kevin Chen.

There is a certain subgenre of novels that are based on Vocaloid songs. We’ve seen a few of them over here, Kagerou Daze being the most obvious. But Kagerou Daze has sort of morphed into a franchise of which the original songs are but a part. ECHO, on the other hand, is a stand-alone novel based on the video of the same name, and after reading it it really doesn’t feel like you can separate the two works. In fact, I’d recommend tracking down the video on Youtube and watching it before reading this book – it doesn’t really spoil much beyond the girl who’s already on the cover, and it helps to make sense of some of the surreal events happening in the middle and end of the book, which quote most of the song outright. As for the book itself, in addition to fans of the original work, I’d recommend it to fans of dark horror with a mystery tinge. As for me, it was well-written, but it didn’t grab me as much as I’d have liked.

Our heroine, much as she spends much of the book denying it, is Hitomi, a teenage girl who helps her family run an electronics store. (Her last name is an aggravation to her but also a character point, so I’ll avoid it for now.) While watching the store one afternoon, she suddenly finds herself flipping through various places as if she were a TV program, finally ending up falling from quite a height into a bizarre amusement park. Fortunately, she doesn’t go splat, and runs into a few other people in the park – her childhood friend, who she’s somewhat estranged from now; the daughter of the richest family in their (very rural) town; a tall introverted girl who seems to be connected to the rich girl in some way; and an adult actor who says he was just passing through town and somehow wound up here, and seems suspicious right from the get-go. Where are they? Why can’t they remember how they got there? And what’s with the girl with six arms and a TV for a head?

The novel is written by a seasoned pro at the genre, and it shows, there’s no awkward “webnovel” prose that you’d see in some works these days. There is some striking imagery, starting with the prologue, which features a horrific sight sure to get rid of any readers who don’t like horror at all. That said, I wish I’d had more time to get to know the characters before events caught up with them. There’s also the presence of Hitomi, which doesn’t really match any of the others, and whose explanation is far from satisfying – clearly she was there because the narrator needed to be an “everygirl” and audience surrogate. She insists she’s not the sort of person to be a protagonist, which may be true of shoujo manga, but if you turn towards Japanese novels for young adults, she absolutely is. The most interesting part of the book to me was probably the real world perspective of the mother of one of the characters, who ends up being tied into the plot far more than expected.

In the end, this is a good book that does what it set out to do – craft a novel around a piece of music. Fans of the song will enjoy it. (Also, wow, what a depressing “this is what happens after you die” this novel has. Pass on that.)