Historical shoujo romantic drama is a relatively common subgenre of manga, and one that’s well-done more often than not. Veteran shoujo manga creator Ken Saito’s Tales of the Tendo Family (Tendou-ke Monogatari) premiered in 2014 and told its story through 14 volumes. Although the first book’s illustration doesn’t set new standards for shoujo art, its strong characterizations and brisk pacing make the tale instantly engrossing and highly enjoyable, for select readers. One Peace Books will begin releasing the official English-language translation of the manga on April 9.

Tales of the Tendo Family revolves around a nameless orphan girl with nothing to live for. But rather than wastefully end her own life, she seeks an opportunity to give up her life for the benefit of another person. The girl believes she’s found a prime opportunity to honorably sacrifice herself by taking the place of a woeful bride-to-be who’s slated to wed into a vicious, ruthless family. But the nameless sacrifice, who assumes the name “Hojo Ran,” finds that her experiences and earthy personality make her an ideal survivor in the harsh Tendo family.

Ken Saito’s graphic art is typical of the modern shoujo aesthetic. The illustration isn’t as literally rose-filled as some shoujo titles, nor is it always quite as detailed or expressive as similar manga art by Miho Obana or Natsuki Takaya. But the illustration is clean and consistently easy to comprehend and follow. Distinguishing characters is easy due to their distinct appearances. Background art is typically minimal except when necessary. While foreground designs are a bit minimal and simplistic, extensive use of screentone gives the art a rich, textural depth. Moreover, the original magazine serialization in Hakusensha’s LaLa DX periodically included sidebar advertisements. In the collected volumes those ads have been replaced by cute “bonus” illustrations.

Typical of a first volume, Tales of the Tendo Family volume 1 concentrates on introducing its cast, setting, and scenario. Readers get to know quite a bit about heroine “Hojo Ran.” Supporting characters Masato Tendo and Tachibana don’t get rich characterization, yet they both get more rounded personalities than one would typically expect from a first manga volume. Even the initially minor supporting characters are introduced with a bit more complexity than simplistic one-dimensional antagonists. The story setting at the very end of the Meiji era will likely be familiar to seasoned manga readers. The story scenario is also familiar from titles ranging from My Happy Marriage to Sacrificial Princess and the King of Beasts; however, the intensity of the oppressive, threatening scenario is likely more prominent in this manga than readers may be used to. In similar shoujo manga, the outsider protagonist is usually subject to harassment and mild bullying. The first volume of the Tendo Family manga does escalate to occasional instances of bloody domestic violence.

Furthermore, the protagonist isn’t just figuratively hopeless. Her suicidal tendencies aren’t strenuous, but they are genuine and may be especially troubling for delicate or sensitive readers. The figurative and literal darkness of the story is effectively offset by Hojo Ran’s pragmatic attitude and periodic flashes of cynical and even sinister slapstick comedy. The first manga includes mild nudity in the form of one shot of Ran’s nude behind. The book contains no adult language or sex.

One Peace Books’ official English translation by Matt Schley is fluid and natural. All of the characters speak with a slight formality typical of the time period, but rather uniquely, this manga gives a slightly different dialogue font to members of the elite Tendo family compared to the more practical and plain-spoken commoners. The difference in font subtly helps emphasize the difference in class status between characters regardless of the closeness of their relationships. Occasionally translated dialogue slips out of the bounds of illustrated word balloons. The slips are momentarily distracting but don’t affect the translation or readability. Sound effects are translated in-panel. One translator’s note is included as a footnote. The book contains the story’s first four chapters plus a seven-page-long “chapter 2.5.”

Ultimately, the first volume of creator Ken Saito’s manga Tales of the Tendo Family may be described as a version of Mark Twain’s Prince & the Pauper with Watashi no Shiawase na Kekkon or Taishou Otome Otogibanashi. Despite exhibiting some slightly weak illustration, the first book does a great job of introducing its characters and story. And the first book wraps up as a complete, satisfying introduction that lays groundwork for the story to continue in earnest. The story does deal with and depict some disturbing themes including suicide and domestic violence. These themes may offend or upset some readers. However, the manga is deliberate to never linger on its dark themes, instead concentrating on a hopeful and lightly romantic attitude. In that sense, Tales of the Tendo Family will appeal as much to fans of Fruits Basket as fans of My Happy Wedding.

Among the many appealing aspects of Japanese manga is the diversity of its genres and styles. Countless fans globally adore shonen adventure manga stories targeted at adolescent boys. Fans of shoujo manga appreciate the genre’s emphasis on interpersonal relationships and romantic emotions. Gekiga manga appeal to adult readers looking for mature, dramatic illustrated storytelling. This October One Peace Books will contribute to expanding the range of manga styles available in America by officially translating creator Suzuyuki playfully charming slice-of-life comedy manga It Takes Two Tomorrow, Too.

Suzuyuki’s independently written and illustrated comic premiered as a web manga in 2019. Its popularity led to publisher Shinchosha printing the series in five collected print volumes. “Futari Ashita mo Sorenari ni,” as it’s known in its native Japan, can be described as a hybrid of “josei” (ladies’ manga) and “datsuryoku-kei” (ennui slice-of-life) styles. The series is a capricious romantic drama targeted at young adult women that depicts the humorous daily tribulations of an unwed romantic couple. The manga revolves around 25-year-old Yuya Aida who lives with his 28-year-old girlfriend Rio Aihara. In a sort of lighthearted nod to O. Henry’s famous short story “The Gift of the Magi,” the manga illustrates the little pratfalls and ironic conflicts that impact Yuya & Rio’s ordinary lives together, from getting caught in the rain to sneakily eating each other’s prized snacks.

It Takes Two Tomorrow, Too isn’t a manga for readers seeking another Demon Slayer or Attack on Titan. It Takes Two Tomorrow, Too could be described as something like SPYxFAMILY without the spying, the espionage intrigue, the children or pets, or the violence and action. It’s a modest, sweet-natured comedy about a loving couple doing their best to respect and cherish each other. So while the series may appeal most to readers seeking a change of pace, something relaxing and soothing, the manga may still best appeal to an esoteric readership of very experienced manga readers and Japanophiles. The manga is filled with subtle references to anime culture and wider Japanese social culture. The first volume includes references to Japanese foods including tamagoyaki, noriben, marunouchi, and tantanmen that are decipherable from context but don’t have any translation notes. Likewise, the manga includes parodies of Kiki’s Delivery Service, Golgo 13, and The Ring that receive no annotations. Furthermore, story references including a lack of residential air conditioning, reliance on janken (“Rock-Paper-Scissors”), anxiety about PDA (public display of affection), tegaki pop advertisements, and joke referencing rakugo zabuton cushions don’t prevent readers from understanding the story. But readers who do understand these cultural contexts will have a deeper comprehension of the manga. Just one cultural reference in the manga is so obscure that it receives a translator note explanation.

Suzuyuki’s illustration is rather minimal yet adequate. The illustration style is easily decipherable, and characters are easily distinguishable from each other. But backgrounds are minimal and included only when necessary, to the extent necessary. Graphic sound effects are retained, as are minor bits of Japanese text, all with in-panel translations. Dialogue text is rendered in obvious digital fonts that may look a little harsh and catchpenny, but similarly to the illustration, it’s the manga’s storytelling that’s paramount. So small compromises in the visual presentation are just a minor passing distraction. The manga contains no violence, nudity, sex beyond romantic kissing, and contains only one instance of adult language. The 144-page first manga volume contains the series’ first 18 chapters plus a bonus chapter and one-page creator afterword.

The first English-translated volume of the It Takes Two Tomorrow, Too manga from One Peace Books is a pleasant refuge for manga readers that want a change of pace from conventional manga offerings. Not too outré or esoteric and not too cliché or familiar, this slice-of-life young adult romantic comedy is perfect for mature readers interested in a heartwarming, relaxing, comforting manga.

The “isekai” sub-genre of Japanese fantasy literature is defined by stories in which a character is migrated from Earth to a fantasy or futuristic sci-fi world. In recent years the popularity of isekai stories has exploded to such a massive scale that even sub-genres within the isekai trope have emerged, including the alternate world job, the revenge fantasy, the harem or sex fantasy, the “reincarnated as a creature” fantasy, and the reincarnated as the villainess scenario. Author Tanabata Satori’s web novel series “Akuyaku Reijou Level 99: Watashi wa UraBoss desu ga Maou de wa Arimasen” premiered in 2018 and was adapted into a manga beginning in early 2020. Ahead of the forthcoming anime television series adaptation, One Peace Books is bringing the manga adaptation of Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss But I’m Not the Demon Lord to English speaking readers on August 15, 2023. Isekai manga fans should look forward to this charming and hilarious work of sword & sorcery satire.

The story concept is familiar to readers steeped in the isekai concept. After an untimely death in the familiar world of present day Tokyo, the protagonist wakes in the body of five-year-old heiress Eumiella Dolkness. The protagonist immediately realizes that her new life is a recreation of a romance simulation video game she played during her previous life. So she knows that Eumiella Dolkness is destined to mature into a terrifying surprise last boss to be dispatched by the kingdom’s heroes. With her foreknowledge in hand, the young Countess Eumiella sets out to change her destiny to her own preference, becoming strong enough to be unthreatened by anyone yet also harmonious enough to avoid mortal conflicts. Plenty of humorous comedy arises from the situation of Eumiella wielding terrifying strength yet trying to restrain herself enough to live peacefully alongside the people who fear and awe her power.

The 162-page first volume of One Peace Books’ manga translation contains the manga’s first five chapters plus a short bonus chapter. The book presumes, to a slight degree, that the reader is already somewhat familiar with the isekai narrative trope. So especially the initial three-page setting exposition is delivered with almost confusing brevity. The protagonist being hit by a truck, dying, then reincarnating in an alternate world may be briefly confusing to readers unfamiliar with the isekai trope because this story breezes past the “hit by a truck” cliché so rapidly. However, following the initial three pages, the manga settles into a brisk yet functional pace that keeps the story constantly developing without ever leaving the reader behind. The illustration by manga creator nocomi reflects a shoujo aesthetic but restrains the use of literally flowery design to respect the fantasy tone of the story. The art periodically shifts into an exceptionally stylized chibi style to emphasize comedic punchlines. This frequent artistic change is very affective in emphasizing both Eumiella’s dead-pan pragmatic personality and the manga’s sitcom humor. Background art, however, is extremely minimal, appearing only when necessary and only to the extent necessary. Sound effects are retained in original katakana and have surrounding English translations. In-panel text is originally in English or unobtrusively translated. The manga’s original color title page is presented herein in monochrome. The manga is all-ages friendly, containing no graphically explicit content and no adult references or language.

The English language translation by Hengtee Lim is especially localized and contemporized but never feels awkward or inappropriate. Inclusion of colloquial words and expressions including “whatevs,” “meh,” “such a pain,” “no hate involved,” and “better fess up” seem unusual for professional manga translation yet do a fine job of expressing the intentions of the original Japanese script. Demonstrating another way the book presumes that the reader has some familiarity with manga, expressions and abbreviations including “otome game,” “otome RPG,” “MC,” “MC party,” “MC name,” and “HUD,” appear in the script without explanation. Likely, however, most readers approaching this book will be able to immediately decipher “girls’ game,” “main character,” and “heads up display” from context if not prior knowledge.

Speaking as a reviewer having a fondness for the isekai sub-genre, I’ve read dozens upon dozens of isekai manga stories including the thematically similar “My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom!” “I’m the Villainess, So I’m Taming the Final Boss,” and “The Most Heretical Last Boss Queen: From Villainess to Savior.” Although Villainess Level 99: I May Be the Hidden Boss But I’m Not the Demon Lord is just another isekai manga, its brisk pacing, satirically cynical characterizations, excellent comic timing, and effective periodic use of cinematic perspective make this manga especially charming. Villainess Level 99 is virtually immediately likable and an especially fun read.

Although Japanese “isekai” stories of characters spirited away to or reincarnated in alternate worlds have been prominent since at least the 1980s, the fantasy sub-genre began an unprecedented explosive growth in the 2000s. The rapid exponential increase in number of “reborn in another world” stories soon necessitated a diversion from simple sword wielding heroic epics. So emerged stories about modern-day people transposed to alternate worlds as feudal lords, farmers, merchants, organization managers, doctors, monsters, and even weapons. Author Liz Takayama & illustrator keepout’s web-novel series Parallel World Pharmacy (Isekai Yakkyoku) premiered in 2015. As the story gained popularity, it was adapted into a manga by illustrator Sei Takano beginning in late 2016 then an anime television series in mid-2022. One Peace Books is officially translating the manga for English-speaking readers, with the first volume scheduled for release on May 30, 2023.

The story revolves around brilliant pharmacologist Kanji Yakutani who literally works himself into an early grave. Yet, for Mr. Yakutani, the great beyond turns out to be an early modern era society comparable to pre-Renaissance Europe. And 31-year-old Yakutani has resurrected into the body of a preadolescent noble heir. By fortunate coincidence, or possibly divine intervention, Dr. Yakutani, now known as Farma de Médicis, is a student pharmacologist with not only a genius mind full of modern era medical knowledge but also now magical abilities to create medicinal substances and also diagnosis illnesses. So the young man in a younger boy’s body decides to do what he was unable to accomplish in his previous life: use his medical expertise to directly improve the lives of patients, and by extension evolve the medical know-how of his relatively primitive world.

The isekai sub-genre rarely delivers genuine surprises or drastic alterations of its stock tropes. Parallel World Pharmacy isn’t unusual in the regard that its story development is reminiscent to anyone familiar with the isekai genre. However, that’s not to call Parallel World Pharmacy uninteresting. The story pacing is brisk, and characterizations are strong. Characters primary and supporting all have unique and distinctive personalities. The story doesn’t emphasize world building, yet it does provide enough background detail to make the world feel believable and real. The manga devotes slightly more emphasis than its anime incarnation to expressing the protagonist’s psychology and motivations, particularly the untimely demise of his younger sister that motivated him to pursue a career in developing medicines. But the story also keeps the tone playfully buoyant with ample whimsical humor and an emphasis on familial relationships and loyalty.

Sei Takano’s manga art is entirely functional. Character designs are consistently unique enough to make distinguishing characters easy. Moreover, character expressions are dynamic and expressive. Background art is functionally sufficient: not common nor extensive yet detailed enough when necessary to establish settings. Panel layout is easy to navigate. The script contains just enough technical jargon to feel both otherworldly and scientifically-based. References to complex chemical compounds and curative components is just thorough enough to convince readers that the protagonist is a knowledgeable doctor, without alienating the reader or making the dialogue too heavy and boring. Moreover, a credits page reveals that the manga’s medical references were verified by medical professionals, demonstrating that an extra degree of consideration and realism has been injected into this fantasy story.

The 176-page manga presents its first four pages with the original Japanese serialized color pages converted to monochrome. The rest of the book contains the manga’s first four chapters (equivalent to roughly the first two-and-a-half episodes of the anime). A few brief scenes play up some sensuality for the sake of comedy, but the manga contains no harsh language, nudity, sex, or violence. Practically the book should be inoffensive and accessible to practically all readers. Brief instances of in-panel text are translated. Sound effects are retained with appended in-panel translations. An appendix includes an illustrated two-page afterword by Sei Takano.

Sei Takano’s Parallel World Pharmacy manga doesn’t break any ground; however, it is a plentifully enjoyable fantasy drama infused with light humor. Readers fascinated by speculative “what if” historical scenarios and readers seeking some variety from the typical sword-swinging isekai adventure will likely find this manga to be just what the doctor ordered.

Japanese fantasy light novels typically fall into either the sci-fi or hard fantasy genres. Stories usually revolve around aliens and advanced technology, such as Yoshiki Tanaka’s Legend of the Galactic Heroes, Hiroyuki Morioka’s Crest of the Stars, and Haruka Takachiho’s Dirty Pair, or revolve around swords and sorcery, such as Ryo Mizuno’s Record of Lodoss War, Fujino Omori’s Is It Wrong to Try to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, and Kumo Kagyu’s Goblin Slayer. Hybridizations of hard sci-fi and hard fantasy in Japanese media such as Leda: Fantastic Adventure of Yohko and Magic Knights Rayearth exist, but they’re much less common than stories aligned to just one conceptual genre. Author Atsuhiko Itou’s 2017 web novel series Captain Corinth: The Galactic Navy Officer Becomes an Adventurer is one such story that merges the boundaries of sci-fi and traditional fantasy. The ongoing prose fiction series that’s currently bound in four Japanese light novel releases launched a manga adaptation in 2020. One Peace Books will begin publishing the official English language translation of the Captain Corinth: The Galactic Navy Officer Becomes an Adventurer manga in December 2022.

The Captain Corinth story begins far in the future when humanity has been warring against the alien “bugs” for over a thousand years. Imperial space navy Lieutenant Alan Corinth is automatically promoted to Captain when his starship is attacked and all of his crewmates killed. With the starship rapidly losing integrity and oxygen, Alan jettisons to a nearby planet. Initially expecting to have to spend the rest of his life in wilderness survival, Captain Alan discovers that his new planet is inhabited by pre-industrial humans. Moreover, unlike virtually every other human civilization in the known universe, the humans of this remote planet have the ability to use magic. So with rescue and return to his familiar culture in doubt, Alan Corinth sets about learning to integrate into his new, unfamiliar home.

Veteran manga artist Takuma Tomomasu, whose prior works include the Record of Lodoss War: Grey Witch, Kurogane Communication, and Code Geass: Nightmare of Nunnally manga, brings his experience and pen to the Captain Corinth manga adaptation, basing his character designs upon those of himesuz, who drafted the original light novel illustrations. For the Captain Corinth manga, Tomomasu uses both extensive textural detail and screentone. The granular moiré results in a visual aesthetic reminiscent of 1980s and 90s manga. The dense yet slightly hazy look feels similar to early Masamune Shirow artwork and just slightly comparable to Tsutomu Nihei’s Blame. The character design style uses thick defined lines comparable to the work of Daisuke Ashihara in order to create a look that feels very similar to anime and a bit less like typical manga. The first manga volume includes no human against human antagonism but does depict some mildly gory depictions of “Bugs” and wild forest animals attacking humans. The manga also includes one panel of obscured female nudity.

Narratively the manga is entirely expository and introductory, familiar but not bad. After briefly introducing Alan Corinth, the narrative transfers him to the undeveloped planet where he encounters the young refugee girl Cleria Starvine. Alan rescues her from attack by a wolf pack and nurses her back to full health, along the way learning the principles of magic use from her. So practically little occurs within the first manga volume, but the foundation sets the groundwork for the story to expand and become more dramatic and compelling. The 184-page first manga volume contains six chapters and brief afterword comments from manga artist Takuma Tomomasu, original novelist Atsuhiko Itou, and original illustrator Himesuz.

The manga’s English translation contains three instances of mild adult language. Moreover, the script contains occasional details and plot revelations that may seem illogical or incongruous to demanding readers. The human war against the bugs has been ongoing for over 1,000 years. Such a prolonged active and aggressive war, especially in an era of highly advanced technology, seems difficult to believe. Similarly, specific developments in Imperial technology seem inconsistent. Instant knowledge implantation technology, casually referred to as “brainwashing,” seemingly only used for necessary training purposes, exists but is only used on select military officers in select situations. No explanation is provided for why the military wouldn’t apply this advantageous technology to all of its soldiers. The narrative implies that the Empire has a passing awareness that some sort of mysterious magical power exists within select human communities, yet over seemingly hundreds of years, the Empire has made no effort to learn more about this new magical power. Internal nanomachines grant Alan the ability to strengthen his vision and stamina yet don’t give him any enhanced ability to see in the dark. Despite the Imperial Navy having been at war for over a thousand years, Navy battleships apparently have no back-up control systems in case the primary mainframe becomes inaccessible. Perhaps just because of the needs of the manga visual medium, the AI hologram Iris Conrad still projects even when she’s alone. These seeming narrative goofs may have logical explanations in the original novels. Or they may be minor enough that most readers won’t stumble over them.

Although not directly comparable the scenario of Captain Corinth: The Galactic Navy Officer Becomes an Adventurer feels reminiscent of the 2013 anime series Gargantia on the Verdurous Planet. The story revolves around a single soldier from a technologically advanced planet dropped into a world hundreds of years younger in awareness and technology. The alien “bugs” nonwithstanding, Captain Corinth also feels reminiscent of Heinlein’s Starship Troopers in the way that it tells a slow-build, grounded and realistic military-tinged story. And Captain Corinth is comparable in many respects to author Ryuto’s light novel series Reborn as a Space Mercenary: I Woke Up Piloting the Strongest Starship although Captain Corinth excludes the reincarnation trope and is primarily terrestrial-based rather than starship-based. Readers anticipating breathless action or sensationalistic spectacle may be underwhelmed by the first volume of Captain Corinth. But readers who are interested in immersing into a slightly less conventional epic fantasy, one that breaks out of conventional genre limitations and avoids some of the most commonplace tropes of the light novel medium, will find that the first volume of the Captain Corinth manga is a welcome portal.

In a society that values politeness above nearly everything else, little white lies are commonplace in Japan. Polite or considerate lies are like the oil that keeps the machine of Japanese society running smoothly. Whether true or false, ordinary people accept polite sentiments as social courtesies. Sixteen-year-old Kanoko Urabe, however, is not an ordinary person. Unlike most people, Kanoko can hear the difference between truth and lie. Any deliberately spoken mistruth has a distinctive ring in her ears. As a young child, she doesn’t understand how to use this distinguishing talent of hers, and she suffers for her unusual trait. But when she comes to the big city and encounters a private detective, Kanoko comes to learn that her unique ability may have a usefulness that she never realized. Creator Ritsu Miyako’s historical fiction manga Usotoki Rhetoric is a pleasantly amusing, lightly comical detective drama.

Set in 1926, the first volume of Usotoki Rhetoric revolves around teen girl Kanoko Urabe who finds herself in the city of Tsukumoya after she’s practically exiled from her small village by neighbors who take offense to the invasiveness of Kanoko’s ability to invariably tell when someone is lying. By coincidence, Kanoko encounters the down-on-his-luck private detective Soma Iwai. Although he’s poor and lacking in clients, Soma’s deductive and observational skills are first-rate, and he’s quick to realize that Kanoko’s ability to instantly recognize a lie would be an invaluable tool to a detective. So he takes her in as a lodger and assistant detective. The first Usotoki Rhetoric manga volume depicts Kanoko’s arrival in the city, her meeting with Soma Iwai and his friends, Kanoko’s first attempt at solving a mystery herself, and her first case as Soma’s formal assistant.

Ritsu Miyako’s illustration style bears influence from shoujo manga traditions yet is primarily grounded. Character renditions are often a bit comically stylized, but the overall theme of the illustration is realistic and historically accurate. Backgrounds are not always fully developed, but when necessary the backgrounds are rich and detailed. Screentone is also used extensively and effectively to give the page a sense of depth and detail. Characters are expressive and animated. However, police detective Hanasaki is so frequently drawn as a simplified comical character that his occasional serious and realistic appearances are jarring. They look so much like a completely different character that the reader may be initially confused, thinking that he actually is a new character that wasn’t properly introduced.

A couple of minor weaknesses hinder the book. Early in the first volume, whether due to the original scripting or the translation I cannot tell, sometimes the scripting is a bit choppy, making the writing a bit disjointed. Occasionally lines of dialogue won’t be clearly attributed to their speaker. Moreover, occasionally the script depicts both what characters think and say, so the script on the page feels as if it abruptly changes topic or as if lines of dialogue don’t relate to each other. Thankfully, seemingly as writer Ritsu Miyako became more used to the characters and scenarios, this disjointed confusion stops after roughly the second chapter. A slightly more prominent and persistent problem is the manga’s decision to designate different tones of voice or dialogue from other times or scenes with different fonts. When Kanoko hears a lie, the word balloon is usually stylized with a screentone background. However, when she hears a lie that’s not spoken directly to her or when the perspective shifts to another character, the lie does not have its stylized word balloon. More confusing still, a heavy boldface is used to distinguish when dialogue from a different time or location spills over into a current scene. But a nearly identical font is used to depict urgent or desperately shrill dialogue. The similarity can create confusion for readers who aren’t paying very close attention to the fonts used on the page. The manga translation is also slightly jarring because usually Japanese text is retained with a parallel translation, but in one noticeable panel the Japanese text is overlaid with the English translation.

The manga contains no especially graphic violence, no sex or nudity, and only one instance of harsh language. In effect, the manga is suitable for readers of virtually any age. The criminal mysteries illustrated in the first volume are complex enough to constitute genuine detective mysteries. Yet the book’s emphasis is on light humor rather than serious deduction. Characterizations have some depth, but considering that the first volume covers a relatively short span of time, characters don’t evolve tremendously. The first book does do a nice job of depicting Kanoko begin to emerge from her shell as she gradually learns that her ability is as much a gift as a curse.

The first volume of Ritsu Miyako’s lighthearted historical detective mystery manga is inoffensively pleasant. Not as thrilling or threatening as typical detective manga, Usotoki Rhetoric is something more like a manga comfort blanket. The manga contains hints of tragedy, adventure, romance, and comedy without ever committing heavily to any genre style. Thus the book ought to be accessible and appealing to a wide audience of tastes and readers. The setting, characterizations, and scenario are fertile enough to make the first book a solid foundation for an enjoyable series. The first officially English translated volume of Ritsu Miyako’s manga Usotoki Rhetoric is available now from One Peace Books.

The sub-genre of Japanese “isekai” fantasy light novels, stories about characters either transported to alternate worlds or reincarnated in alternate worlds, is so populated with titles and series that readers may easily and quickly tire of the trope. In the afterword of his first published novel, author Densuke explains the origin of his isekai novel series The Death Mage by saying, “I decided to write this book because I couldn’t find the exact kind of story that I myself wanted to read.” That singular statement largely sums up the nature of the first Death Mage novel. “Death Mage Who Doesn’t Want a Fourth Time” provides a rather unique take on the isekai genre that might not appeal to readers expecting a typical isekai story. On the other hand, fans of the sub-genre seeking something a bit less conventional may appreciate the distinct approach that Death Mage uses.

The briskly paced prologue introduces readers to Japanese high school boy Hiroto Amamiya. Poor Hiroto lived a short, unpleasant life before dying unceremoniously. Due to a cosmic mix-up, he’s reincarnated into an alternate fantasy world in which his life consists entirely of miserable torture and pain. His wretched experience causes him to generate unique death magic. However, before Hiroto can fully make use of his newfound power, his second life comes to an abrupt end. Reincarnated for a third time with all of his prior memories intact, the baby now known as “Vandal,” finds that even in this third life in yet another new world, he’s still yolked with adversity and suffering. Yet despite being a swaddling infant, Vandal decides that this time around he’ll control his own destiny by acquiring the strength and power to defend himself while also exacting revenge upon the people who wronged him.

The bulk of the novel depicts the struggles and adventures of the first eighteen months of Vandal’s life. Despite having two prior lives and nearly forty years of previous life experience, the protagonist is limited by the nature of being a baby. And due to certain limitations placed on him by the god of resurrection, the boy’s previous exhaustive mastery of death magic is now limited to a sort of spiritual necromancy, mostly an ability to communicate with and command spirits. With the exception of the novel’s climactic battle scene, much of the first Death Mage novel is relatively mundane and grounded. Aided by spirits and animated skeletons, Vandal engages in plenty of fights, but the novel’s action scenes are rarely exciting or suspenseful because Vandal is careful to avoid battles that he knows he can’t win. Moreover, especially strong warriors and monsters appear sparsely in this new fantasy world he inhabits. So many of the novel’s action scenes involve Vandal commanding his skeletal minions to defeat common bandits and weak monsters. Much of the novel is devoted to explanation of baby Vandal’s daily life of foraging a barely sustainable existence. The novel may also be said to concentrate heavily on world building, yet the unnamed fantasy world that the primary story occurs within appears to be quite simple and feudal. The novel makes little mention of great religious or political unrest that affects daily living.

Unlike the massive majority of Japanese light novels, Death Mage is primarily expressed in third-person perspective, only switching into the more common first-person perspective during one sub-chapter. Although the novel’s rhetoric isn’t challenging, the use of third-person description rather than first-person makes the reading a bit slower. Moreover, the very grounded, detail-oriented focus of the book keep the pace sluggish although the novel is never boring. The writing contains only one instance of mild profanity. However, in order to emphasize the tragic aspects of the protagonist’s experience and the harshness of the worlds he’s reincarnated into, the descriptions of melee combat violence and descriptions of torture are periodically gruesome. The novel also includes an attempted sexual assault upon a humanoid female monster.

The translation by One Peace Books contains a handful of minor punctuation and grammar errors that most readers likely won’t notice. The translation also contains a couple of marginally more noticeable typos including twice referring to Vandal as “she” instead of “he,” and a few spelling errors including an instance of “creating” that should have been “created,” an instance of “who” that should have been “how,” and an instance of “long” that should have been “longer.” The 312-page novel includes seven monochrome illustrations drawn by Ban!, a one-page afterword by the author, and a seven page glossary that’s mostly redundant yet does contain a few minor details not mentioned in the core novel.

Densuke’s light novel The Death Mage, also known as “The Death Mage Who Doesn’t Want a Fourth Time,” is a book that amply earns a qualified recommendation. While the novel adheres to the conventional tropes of the isekai genre, the details and execution within this particular novel set the book apart from the typical isekai fantasy. Although Death Mage isn’t literally or technically a “survival” isekai story, its explication leans closer to a survival story than a conventional action adventure or slice of life light drama. Readers anticipating a fast-paced or highly gratifying sensationalist story may be disappointed by the slower pace and relatively lower stakes of Death Mage. But fans of the isekai genre searching for something less conventional may find exactly that within The Death Mage.

Kugayama Reki does a fine job of creating a manga adaptation of author Kurokata’s 2014 light novel The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic. The story introduces three high school teens abruptly teleported to a fantasy kingdom to defend the realm from the advances of the Demon Lord. However, only two of the students were targeted by the summoning spell. Poor Ken Usato merely happened to be next to them and got sucked up by the spell accidentally. However, while his classmates Kazuki and Suzune are imbued with combat magic, Usato learns that he’s a rare exception granted powerful healing magic. So he’s literally dragged into service in the kingdom’s “rescue team” of battlefield medics.

The original light novel is arguably a fantasy comedy although it reads more like a typical isekai fantasy adventure that includes light humor. The story is never serious, but it’s also never especially hilarious. Sadly, most of its humor is both cliché and predictable. At least manga artist Kugayama Reki livens up the original prose a bit with vivid illustration and concise editing. The original character designs by KeG, based on author Kurokata’s minimal descriptions, are rather bland. Thankfully, the manga adds some visual detail that the original prose lacked. Kugayama’s illustrations have quite a cinematic presentation, deliberately using shading, perspective, and visual angles to make the mundane story more visually kinetic. Kugayama also broadens the visual palate, when possible, occasionally adding visual background gags to emphasize the story’s comedy.

Moreover, Kugayama wisely trims some of the boring redundancy from the original prose novel, allowing the manga’s storytelling to feel more purposeful. However, the manga can’t entirely escape the weaknesses of its source. The 195-page first manga volume adapts the first three-quarters of the original light novel, so this fantasy adventure manga contains only one action scene. The manga includes references such as Rose saying, “I was gonna let you leave on the seventh day until I saw ya doin’ cool sh*t,” except Usato didn’t actually do anything whatsoever, cool or otherwise. Similarly, Usato says, “Maybe I leveled up after all those fights in the forest,” although he didn’t fight multiple times in the forest, or anywhere else, for that matter. And moreover, supporting characters Kazuki and Suzune get relegated to such marginal status that the reader can be forgiven for forgetting that they even exist.

Kugayama Reki’s static illustrations are quite attractive; however, illustration of rapid motion and action scenes tends to be a bit confusing.

The official English translation of the manga contains the manga’s first six chapters. The translation retains honorifics and includes a few instances of adult language and some brief, bloody violence. As typical with contemporary translations, visual sound effects are in Japanese with subtle in-frame translation. The manga contains no sex or nudity.

Readers approaching the first volume of the Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic manga companion may be well served to know in advance that the book is entirely an introduction. The first volume of Kugayama Reki’s manga introduces the story’s initial set of primary characters and introduces the initial scenario but does little more. As a single volume, the first book isn’t especially rewarding or satisfying. It’s mildly humorous, but it lacks both adventure and action, and almost nothing of any significance happens. But the book may be a functional set-up for subsequent volumes. And, if nothing else, the manga is fairly attractive looking.

The nature of Japanese light novels is to be simple, easy-reading, disposable literary entertainment. By design, light novels are only barely more literary than manga comic books. Moreover, light novels are typically rapidly written first drafts featuring the barest minimum of editing. Thus light novels frequently contain errors in narrative continuity, technical composition errors, and other minor flaws. What they lack in literate, artistic substance they compensate for with creativity and entertainment value. The “isekai” sub-genre, stories about characters whisked away to unfamiliar new worlds, has arisen as one of the most popular genres of Japanese fantasy literature, especially since the early 1990s. The abundance of stories within the isekai genre naturally distills into more praiseworthy and admirable literary works including the Mushoku Tensei and Sword Art Online franchises, especially poorly written novel series including Isekai Meikyuu de Harem wo and Tate no Yuusha no Nariagari, and everything in-between. While not terribly poorly written, the first volume of author Kurokata’s light novel The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic falls into the vast and deep well of mediocre isekai fantasy novels primarily because the entire book is nothing more than an extended and particularly dull prologue.

The trope of a protagonist being accidentally caught up in an isekai hero summoning ritual has been utilized in other light novel series including Miya Kinojo’s Chillin’ in Another World with Level 2 Super Cheat Powers, Yuka Tachibana’s The Saint’s Magic Power is Omnipotent, and Ren Eguchi’s Campfire Cooking in Another World with My Absurd Skill. Unlike comparable titles that apply a unique, creative twist, the first novel of The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic regrettably doesn’t do anything unique or compelling with its scenario. In fact, the novel does very little at all.

Three Japanese high school students are magically teleported to a sword & sorcery world to defend the Llinger Kingdom from invasion by the Demon Lord. But only two of the transposed students were targeted by the summoning spell. The story’s protagonist, Ken Usato, is an unintended extra caught up in the mix. However, his status as a “plus one” has no impact on the story development. Within the first novel, the three teen heroes spend their time training to strengthen their magic casting abilities. Then the Demon Lord’s army begins its invasion. Then the novel ends. Lamentably, the novel contains almost no action whatsoever although the story is not a slice-of-life fantasy. The novel’s intriguing title, “The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic,” has practically no relevance to the novel’s story. Characterizations are superficial and minimal. Protagonist Usato introduces himself as someone with no hobbies. Yet, seemingly contradictorily, shortly later he refers to himself as having a “gamer’s brain.” He’s also oddly, consciously homophobic for no explained reason. His male upperclassman Kazuki Ryusen is pure-hearted and described as “innocent.” Usato’s female classmate Suzune Inukami functions half-heartedly as comic relief in a story that’s doesn’t need any. She’s also a bit difficult to empathize with since she’s characterized as a girl who pities herself because she’s too good at everything she tries. The only other significant character in the novel is Rose, Usato’s mentor. While she does get one detail of background, she functions more like a prominent supporting character than a main character.

As if the novel knows that its narrative development is thin and boring, the novel tries to inject sub-plots and nuance, but the efforts are irresolute and perfunctory. Halfway through the novel, the story introduces animal mascot characters although these characters don’t do anything nor serve any narrative purpose. As if resorting to cliché, the novel’s first chapter drops the revelation that the Llinger Kingdom treats healing magic users as useless trash, evoking the treatment of the Shield Hero in the Rising of the Shield Hero novels, yet as soon as it’s mentioned, this plot point is forgotten. Knight Commander Siglis announces that he has a matter to discuss with Rose, yet when he goes to meet her, he says nothing of significance to her. In a brief passage a fox girl relays a prophecy to the protagonist. Then this plot point receives no further development. The novel introduces a threatening black knight yet doesn’t bother to give him a name nor have him do anything prominent. In fact, the entire novel’s world building is perfunctory at best. The novel’s magic system essentially gets no detail or explanation. The country neighboring the Llinger Kingdom is simply referred to as “neighboring country.” The demon lord has no name or motivation beyond, “Demon Lord.” The briefly appearing bandit leader is such a cliché that he comes across as a parody instead of a legitimate character.

The narrative also contains other continuity errors. Rose has only one eye, yet the novel contains the descriptive lines, “All I could do was avoid meeting the eyes of this woman who savagely smiled at me,” and, “All I knew was that her eyes were filled with contradiction.” In the first half of the novel Rose makes multiple similar statements including, “If someone dies, revive ’em.” Yet later in the book Rose asserts, “If you die, you’re done for,” and, “I know I can’t bring my boys back to life.” Usato describes the palace’s training ground as “a big open space,” yet then says, “While I was scanning the area, I saw a black-haired girl in the corner of the room.” What room? He’s outdoors.

Other flaws within the novel may arise particularly from the English translation. At one point Rose asks, “Capiche?” without explanation for why this resident of an alternate world would be familiar with Italian language. Similarly, the black knight says, “My bad,” which seems like a distinctly Earth expression used by a character presumably not from Earth. The translation contains numerous minor errors in punctuation and capitalization, but most casual readers won’t notice them. The novel is expressed in the first-person perspective typical of light novels except for one brief scene that switches into third-person perspective. Frustratingly, the novel regularly switches narrator without notice or signal. In at least one occasion the reader must read at least six paragraphs to figure out that the storytelling has shifted to a different character’s point of view.

The novel contains no references to nudity or sex and only brief description of graphic violence. The translation includes a few instances of “Sh*t,” one “god*mnit,” and one “son of a b*tch.” The translation also retains Japanese honorifics when appropriate, including “senpai,” “-chan,” and “-kun.” The novel also includes a reference to “tsuchinoko” that may be unfamiliar to readers lacking awareness of Japanese folkloric monsters. One Peace Books’ official English translation of the first novel includes a double-page color character introduction illustration, a color page illustration of the black knight, eleven monochrome illustrations by artist KeG, and one monochrome character concept design illustration.

The isekai fantasy sub-genre can be highly entertaining because it can be very immersive and very gratifying. Readers interested in dipping their toes into the field should be advised to begin elsewhere. Die-hard fans of the isekai genre who are willing and prepared to read everything they can may find some satisfaction from The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic. Thanks to passable writing, the novel isn’t completely awful; however, while this series may become more exciting and interesting in subsequent volumes, the first novel is 219 pages of redundancy and almost nothing happening.

Contemporary mainstream avant-garde manga creator Usamaru Furuya may be best known to American readers for his off-kilter humorous stores Genkaku Picasso and Lychee Light Club. His two-volume 1999 manga story The Music of Marie (Marie no Kanaderu Ongaku) is relatively unknown among American readers despite having been previously officially translated into French and Spanish languages. Thanks to One Peace Books, the exquisite The Music of Marie may finally reach the large English-speaking audience that it deserves. Usamaru’s profound philosophical drama is an affecting, unforgettable story addressing human nature, technology, psychology, and theology.

Especially in recent years, the concept of world building has become a buzz word among critics and consumers of fantasy literature. The term is frequently generously applied to any and every story that manages to depict a setting with any degree of creativity. Usamaru’s Music of Marie legitimately deserves the accolade, however, as it depicts an entire retro-futurist world with unique languages, social and religious beliefs, customs, and rituals. The story is set on an island nation distinguished by its clockwork industry. The country runs on intricate gears and sprockets, exporting iron-age machines to neighboring countries to support its populace. Within this setting an unusual romantic triangle develops between the young girl Pipi who loves her childhood friend Kai. But Kai is possessed by a compulsive adoration of the world’s clockwork goddess, the gigantic robotic Marie that orbits the planet and ministrates its people. Revealing more about how the plot unfolds does a grave disservice to future readers.

The story reveals itself slowly, initially devoting a lot of time to bonding readers with Pipi and Kai and their friends, families, and neighbors. Gradually the story peels back layer after layer, unveiling the clockwork beneath. The multiple plot revelations and developments are heartbreaking and provocative, forcing readers to both re-evaluate the manga story and also consider larger, real-world moral and philosophical quandaries. The manga may be best described as a contemporary fairy tale for mature readers. Comparable to manga by Hayao Miyazaki, Hiroki Endo, and Kenji Tsuruta, The Music of Marie is akin to a moral parable. The story encourages readers to become invested in the characters before asking the reader, through the characters, to consider difficult emotional and ethical choices.

While Usamaru Furuya writing feels natural and believable, the graphic illustration is striking and cinematic. Character faces have relatively little detail in order to place greater emphasis on their expressions. Even characters with brief appearances and minor roles express a great deal of personality through small gestures, reactions, and snippets of dialogue. Backgrounds, environments, and clothing, however, are drawn with tremendous consideration given to detail and texture. Stone floors, walls, and fences feel as if they lift off the page. Unique culture is represented through costume design, jewelry, and body decoration.

As a “seinen” manga targeted at young adult readers, The Music of Marie contains no overt sexuality or violence; however, the mature drama does briefly reference mature themes including sexuality, alcohol abuse, and the tragic impacts of war including terrorism, starvation, and gruesome death. Although briefly referenced, some of the thematic material in The Music of Marie may be upsetting for young readers.

One Piece Books’ localization of The Music of Marie presents the entire sixteen chapter story plus prologue and afterword in a single 528-page volume. Six pages are included in full color. The translation contains no adult language. Since the story takes place in a fantasy setting, no Japanese terminology is included or necessary. Visual sound effects are translated discretely within panel.

From its outset The Music of Marie feels like an unsettling, anxious elder cousin to Hayao Miyazaki’s Laputa: Castle in the Sky. Not flashy or sensationalistic, The Music of Marie gradually and deliberately constructs a fascinating tragic story that alternates between pessimistic and optimistic. The story is thought-provoking, heartbreaking, and truly memorable: one that will stay in readers’ minds long, long after the final page. Readers that appreciate exceptional manga storytelling and comic readers that appreciate an unusual, thoughtful, and exceptional visual story should place The Music of Marie among their “must read” titles.

During the late 1990s and early 2000s Japan’s manga and anime fan community became infatuated with a figurative and literary concept called “moé.” Although the term partially referred to having a burning passion for something, another aspect of moé was a platonic parental affection for charming young girls. Overexposure of moé culture and shifting tastes eventually deprecated the theme. But author Shimesaba resurrected the concept with a gentle and mature attitude in 2017 with the publication of the five-volume Hige o Soru. Soshite Joshikosei o Hirou light novel series. “HigeHiro,” as its title was abbreviated, grew in popularity, earning a manga adaptation followed by an anime television series adaptation. One Peace Books will begin offering an official English language translation of the first volume of the Higehiro: After Being Rejected, I Shaved and Took in a High School Runaway manga on October 14.

On his way home from work one evening, young adult office employee Yoshida stumbles across teen runaway Sayu Ogiwara. Sayu offers him sex in return for a night’s shelter, by Yoshida is appalled by the suggestion. Instead, he offers to take her in strictly as an act of charity. Yet his loneliness and her desperation lead to their momentary encounter becoming a tentative lasting arrangement. Thus ensues a heartfelt and emotional drama about two people learning more about themselves as they live together and learn about each other.

The Higehiro manga is drawn well by illustrator Imaru Adachi, taking inspiration from the original light novel illustrations by booota. Readers most familiar with the spring 2021 anime series may be struck by protagonist Yoshida’s appearance in the manga. He looks considerably younger in the manga adaptation than he does in the anime. However, Adachi’s renderings are good. Given that the story is primarily one of grounded, realistic character interaction, the manga illustrations take great care to depict subtle expressions and communicate a lot through unspoken gestures and poses. The graphic art also takes greater care than many manga series to include extensive, detailed background settings that further enhance the story’s real-world verisimilitude. The first volume of the manga contains the story’s first six chapters, ending in a cliffhanger that will certain leave readers eager for more. The manga also includes a two-page afterword by illustrator Imaru Adachi, and a two-page afterword by original creator Shimesaba.

One Peace Books’ translation reads fluidly and exhibits no obvious errors. Japanese language sound effects are translated. Japanese background text is translated only when necessary in order to preserve the original art. The translation does contain some instances of mild adult language, but the story itself is rather adult-oriented as it involves a teen girl prostituting herself. However, apart from some suggestive jokes, the manga contains no nudity, violence, or sex. Further faithful to the contemporary real-world Japanese setting, the translation refers to characters primarily by family name rather than given name. And the translation retains Japanese status demarcations including “-senpai” and “-kun” to designate seniority between co-workers. The translation also retains familiar Japanese terms including “izakaya,” “bento,” and “kotatsu,” that may be foreign to inexperienced manga readers but should be very familiar to most readers familiar with manga. The illustrations also include modern cultural parodies including “Bokumo” phones and “Toyo Cinemas” that don’t hinder reading but may only make complete sense to readers who are very familiar with Japanese corporate brand names.

The first volume of the Higehiro manga doesn’t get far beyond just introducing the scenario and characters, but even this early in the story the narrative already begins to enrich its characterizations and add depth to its relationship building. While countless contemporary romantic manga emphasize sex, Higehiro deliberately downplays vulgarity in favor of a platonic protective affection. In a practical sense, Higehiro can be called a shoujo manga for male readers as it concentrates on emotions and relationships over action yet depicts a trio of women competing for a single man’s attention instead of a man pining for female ministration. The Higehiro manga is a pleasant and charming change of pace compared to typical rom/com manga as it emphasizes mature relationships, integrity, and sincerity over slapstick eroticism all while staying buoyant and cheerful rather than becoming doleful.

Although the modern variation of the “isekai” trope has existed within manga and anime since the early 1980s, the concept of a character swept away to a life in an alternate fantasy world has exploded in popularity and frequency during the past decade. Despite frequent parallels and similarities among isekai stories, readers still clamor for more. An example is author Ryousen Takami’s 2016 light novel series Isekai Tensei Soudouki. The novels have sold over a half-million copies and spun-off a manga adaptation by artist Honoji. One Peace Books will officially bring the Multi-Mind Mayhem: Isekai Tensei Soudouki manga series to English language readers on September 14.

As the title suggests, “Multi-Mind Mayhem” revolves around an eleven-year-old boy whose body houses not only his own spirit but also the souls of two deceased earthlings. The protagonist, Bard Cornelius is a precocious and ambitious youngster influenced by the spirits that live within him. One is a Sengoku era samurai, Oka Sanai Sadatoshi. The other is the modern era Japanese high school student Masaharu Oka. Seemingly without Bard’s awareness, the interests and knowledge of his additional psychologies influence his personality and behavior, turning him into a sort of young prodigy. The first manga volume introduces the cast, establishes Bard’s personality and potential, and concludes with the seeming first emergence of one of Bard’s secondary personalities into dominant action.

Readers with experience within the isekai genre will likely find numerous aspects of Multi-Mind Mayhem familiar. The story borrows the reborn into the child of a former mercenary concept of Rifujin na Magonote’s Mushoku Tensei (2012), the preternaturally intelligent child becoming a revolutionary merchant concept from Miya Kazuki’s Honzuki no Gekokujo (2013), the idea of a noble possessed by a reincarnated spirit taking up farming from Satoru Yamaguchi’s Otome Game no Hametsu Flag Shika Nai Akuyaku Reijou ni Tensei Shite Shimatta (2014), and the youngster developing as a talented fighter concept from Tsuyoshi Yoshioka’s Kenja no Mago (2015). Moreover, similar to author Hisago Amazake-no’s 2010 light novel series Knight’s & Magic and Yuri Kitayama’s 2014 light novel series Seirei Gensouki, the isekai aspect of the story, at least in the first volume of Multi-Mind Mayhem, isn’t especially prominent or even relevant.

The storytelling within the first volume of Multi-Mind Mayhem is serviceable, yet it feels as though it includes some odd lapses. The first chapter feels superfluous and even a bit confusing. The first chapter introduces the souls of Sadatoshi and Oka and depicts Bard’s birth. The first chapter also reveals that Bard’s father is aware that his newborn son is possessed of three distinct souls, but it’s unclear whether the father ever tells his son. The second chapter time-skips ahead eleven years, as though the first chapter was just a narrative obligation rather than a significant part of the story. Bard’s father subsequently is excluded from the ongoing story, and the story doesn’t clearly explicate whether Bard knows that his body is inhabited by two additional souls. The story continues to develop based on some tenuous plot devices. According to the setting map, the Cornelius family rules an area of land but oddly doesn’t live within that land. Moreover, the land is frequently at war with neighboring invaders that seem to have no reason for their repeated invasions. They just attack because the story needs some action. Bard refers to Gothe the local blacksmith as “famous,” but none of the other locals are aware of Gothe’s existence. The manga suggests that local merchant Selina Savaran wants to take advantage of Bard somehow, yet there’s no evidence of her having that intent. On the contrary, Bard more often seems to attempt to exploit Selina. On one occasion Bard predicts that an attack will come from the northern forest. But on the setting map there is no forest to the north, only woods to the south and east. The novel products that Bard invents and sells are described as stimulating the entire country’s economy although the products themselves seem very limited in distribution, and the story provides no evidence of them having an impact on the national economy. Magic exists in the story’s fantasy setting although magic isn’t explained at all nor does it seem to have any practical applications. Magic seems included in the story due to cliché rather than purpose. Bard is three characters in one, but in the first volume, the two secondary personalities have minimal appearances.

Similar to its writing, the manga’s illustrations are passable but rarely exceptional. Illustrator Honoji’s drafting resembles an inferior replication of Eiichiro Oda’s One Piece or Yuki Tabata’s Black Clover. The graphic art often lacks detail. Backgrounds are limited. Action scenes aren’t entirely incomprehensible as they are in some manga, but periodically individual panels are a bit difficult to decipher. During the book’s climactic action sequence, the intensity of the violence escalates somewhat, and the violence graphically increases although the bloodshed stays moderate throughout the book.

Japan Times anime expert Matt Schley provides the English translation and does a commendable job of giving characters distinct voices through accents and rhetorical styles. The book does contain some mild profanity. The story also makes some vague yet deliberate references to adult concepts, but younger readers probably won’t pay mind to these brief allusions. The first volume contains manga chapters 1-9 and four pages of supplemental 4-panel parody comic strips.

The first volume of Multi-Mind Mayhem actually contains rather little mayhem or even multiple minds. The bulk of the story is a lighthearted, humorous slice-of-life tale set in a moderately peaceful sword and sorcery world. The tale is especially familiar, but fans of the isekai genre as well as receptive readers may find that the story’s characterizations and brisk pace end up making the manga endearing despite its technical weaknesses.

The romantic comedy and the sitcom of misunderstandings are global literary staples. The idea that opposites attract is a universally recognized trope. And the concepts of the “sukeban,” the role-reversed “bancho,” and schoolyard bullying are concepts of Japanese adolescence. Combining all of these themes naturally results in artist Ui Kashima’s best-selling comedy manga “I Belong to the Baddest Girl in School” (Pashiri na Boku to Koisuru Bancho-san). One Peace Books will debut the official English translation of the hit manga on August 17.

The story revolves around timid teen boy Fuyuhiko Unoki who’s so used to being taken advantage of that he doesn’t refuse when his new high school’s toughest student, the petite girl Kanade Toramaru, aggressively asks for his company. In a gradually developing comedy of misunderstandings, Unoki sees himself claimed as property by a ruthless delinquent while Toramaru imagines she’s secured a kind, mutually affectionate new boyfriend. Slowly the pair grow more comfortable around each other while struggling to work through their own unique anxieties and uncertainties.

The English language reader’s response to “I Belong to the Baddest Girl in School” may depend largely on either or both how willingly receptive the reader is and the reader’s awareness of Japanese cultural tropes. Particularly for Japanese readers who took to this series and turned it into a popular hit, the story is a comfortable and familiar collection of clichés and concepts presented with a refreshing honesty, free of satirical cynicism or pretension. A foreign reader unused to manga and Japanese culture may find the book amusing but slightly odd or confusing. The cynical experienced manga fan may consider the story overly familiar and unoriginal.

Protagonist Unoki is an innocent boy whose experience has taught him that bowing down to bullies is more pragmatic than standing up for himself. He’s a similar character to ones such as Tokyo Revengers’ Takemichi Hanagaki. Toramaru is a slight variation of the classic “bancho” character. She doesn’t wear the traditional “tokkofuku” long coat, but she does wear getta. Rather than the traditional bokken, she wields a broom handle. Her “sukeban” gang, introduced in chapter 3, consists of Matsuri Tatsumi (a tsundere boke) & Yutaka Ushigome (a sarashi-wearing tsukkomi). Numerous other Japanese cultural references that pervade the first volume include Toramaru seeing in shoujo lily vision, bento lacking color, shoe lockers & confession letters, student duties including after-school cleaning and animal duty, and hara-kiri. None of these cultural references are explained. Readers who understand them will gain another level of depth to the story’s jokes. Readers that don’t understand these uniquely Japanese references will still be able to comprehend the scenarios from broad context.

Ui Kashima’s visual art is easy on the eyes. Navigation from panel to panel is natural and easy to follow. Characters are highly expressive and action is clear and coherent. Despite Toramaru’s belligerent nature, violence is nearly always kept off-panel and only depicted for comical ends. The English translation by veteran translator Emily Balistrieri is free of grammatical errors and reads fluidly. Honorifics are either excluded or when necessary translated as suitably as possible. Sound effects are translated innocuously. The translation does include several utterances of mild foul language. The book should otherwise be appropriate for readers of all ages. The singular possible exception is an opaquely implied reference to date rape dropped into the eleventh chapter. The 184-page first book contains the 77-chapter manga story’s first 11 chapters and an author’s afterword.

Ui Kashima’s “I Belong to the Baddest Girl in School” is a categorical example of rom-com manga comfort food. Nothing about the story is unique or exceptional, yet the manga is presented with an honest lack of pretension that makes it pleasant and enjoyable. The storytelling is effectively paced, gradually revealing more detail about its characters while allowing the characters themselves to slowly learn more about themselves and each other. Readers who are fresh to manga may find the story unique and unexpected. Readers familiar with the traditions of manga will certainly find this story familiar yet still amusing.

Yuki Fumino’s subtly complex, resonant, and heartfelt dramatic manga series I Hear the Sunspot premiered in 2013 and has sporadically extended into five ongoing collected books. The touching series is ostensibly about the intimate friendship that develops between a pair of college classmates, one of whom suffers from hearing loss. Taichi Sagawa is a brash, outgoing young man that wears his heart on his sleeve. His progressively deepening friendship with handsome yet withdrawn Kohei Sugihara comes to define the lives of both young men, leading them to revelations and changes in their lives and increasing awareness of themselves and their relationships within modern Japanese society. The relationship between Taichi and Kohei evolves from classmates to a status like platonic lovers, soulmates who constantly struggle to match and intertwine their complimentary opposite wavelengths. At the same time readers follow the life struggles of these two young men, readers can also extrapolate a subtle and incisive observation of Japanese culture that has a well-intentioned yet incomplete awareness of the physically disabled and handicapped.

Fumino’s initial I Hear the Sunspot story was contained in a single volume. The success of the initial volume led to the 2015 publication of a single-volume sequel, I Hear the Sunspot: Theory of Happiness. The series continued in a 2016 third volume, I Hear the Sunspot: Limit that spanned three books. One Peace Books will release the official English translation of the third book of I Hear the Sunspot: Limit on April 13, 2021. The most recent installment in the “Sunspot” story broadens its narrative focus compared to the earlier volumes, paying closer attention to Taichi, Maya Oukami, Ryu Chiba, and, at last, Taichi’s grandfather. The third book of “Limit” reserves its focus on Kohei until its second half, placing readers into the same confused, uncertain space that Taichi resides in following Kohei’s abrupt suggestion that the two young men avoid seeing each other. Both Maya, first introduced in “Theory of Happiness,” and Ryu, first introduced in “Limit” book one, receive their most substantial character development and explication in this concluding third book of “Limit.” Both characters, who may have come across as slightly under-developed supporting characters in the previous volumes, get fleshed-out stories and nuanced personal motivations in “Limit” book 3. Likewise, Taichi’s grandfather, previously only an abstract reference in prior books, becomes a fully realized member of the cast in “Limit” book 3. Readers who had previously only known Taichi’s grandfather through Taichi’s own descriptions are finally introduced to the elderly man and learn that he, like everyone else in the cast, is a much more dynamic and developed human character than previously assumed. Kohei’s mother, also previously just a supporting character, even gets her own opportunity to assert herself and escalate into a prominent role among the supporting characters. And, of course, the story continues to evolve and deepen the relationship between Taichi and Kohei by splitting them apart as never before and establishing that even separated their concern and affection for each other only draws them closer together.

Also of particular fascinating note, the detailed depiction of Ryu’s history and personal struggles along with the careful depiction of Taichi’s work with his new employer, a company that hosts corporate disability awareness training sessions, drives home author Yuki Fumino’s underlying social critique in which hearing loss stands as a metaphor for Japanese society’s lack of full and forthright communication. The series’ earlier books did deal with personal actualization and fulfillment. An aspect of the story that’s highly compelling is the intense focal emphasis on personal revelations, understanding one’s own desires, and finding one’s own path through life. But the thematic focus shifts in “Limit” book 3 to an observational critique of Japanese society. Unlike American society, and a story revolving around American characters that would typically depict characters’ efforts to fulfill their own ambitions and emotional needs, I Hear the Sunspot: Limit book 3 establishes that its characters’ greatest vulnerabilities are their compassionate concerns for their loved ones. Especially Taichi, Kohei, Maya, and Ryu suffer emotional angst because they value the happiness and fulfillment of their dearest friends and family above their own. However, their own empathy prevents them from fully understanding the very circumstances they seek to espouse. The individual characters represent the larger contemporary Japanese culture that aspires to deliver happiness and equality to all of its citizens, yet since physical disability is a somewhat taboo subject of discussion, everyone mis-perceives what happiness and personal fulfillment actually mean for other people. A supporting character who means well suggests that the disabled associate only among each other, as only those of similar experience can fully comprehend and empathize with each other. Yet separate but equal is not equality since exclusion is the opposite of understanding and acceptance. This currently final volume of “Sunspot” teaches its characters that being overly considerate is just as emotionally damaging as being too inconsiderate. The ability to talk to each other, even about painful, difficult, or embarrassing subjects, even when the communication is difficult, is what allows for understanding, personal growth, and ultimate happiness.

Upon first impression, the third book of I Hear the Sunspot: Limit may feel less narrowly focused and a bit less intimate than the prior books. But the climax of “Limit” is no less heartfelt than any of the prior chapters. Yuki Fumino deliberately widens the storytelling focus to provide some degree of narrative closure for all of the manga series’ primary characters. The story also widens its perspective in order to better address the larger thematic point of the story. Hearing loss, and by extension all physical handicaps, become less a characterization detail and more of an aspect of living in a social society that all people have to accommodate, understand, and appreciate. After making that point, the manga returns to its narrowed focus on the developing co-dependent relationship between Taichi and Kohei, illustrating both the earliest and most advanced points of the two young men’s association. By the end of the book readers will certainly find the current conclusion of the I Hear the Sunspot story just as affecting, incisive, and remarkably truthful as it’s always been. For these characters, what matters most is their personal realities, their personal relationships, sense of commitment and responsibility rather than a more conventional platitude for the reader’s consumption. That deep, intimate honesty is what makes the lightly romantic drama feel so real and compelling.

I Hear the Sunspot may be casually referred to as a boy love romance, but the story is far more accurately an interpersonal relationship drama starring characters who see past gender to care so deeply about one another that they unconsciously hurt each other with kindness. Each revelation, each confession revealed deepens relationships yet moves the characters closer to completely sharing their fears, hopes, and desires with each other. The more the characters communicate, the more they have built up that needs communication to each other. So the reader builds deep empathy with each of the characters as the reader sees what private thoughts each character has that ought to be spoken and shared, but which the characters themselves are hesitant to reveal. Thankfully, at the same time “Limit” volume 3 drives all of the cast members’ revelations and relationships the farthest they’ve come so far, their lives continue, so the volume concludes with the open possibility that Yuki Fumino will return to pen another chapter in this ongoing dramatic story.

While the traditional Japanese literary concept of living a lifetime in another world may date back to the Japanese Urashima Taro fairy tale, the modern provision of the concept arose within anime in 1983 and has steadily become more entrenched, prolific, and diverse. Author Naito Kinosuke cultivated a unique breed of the “isekai” concept in 2016 with the premiere of the light novel series A Leisurely Farmer in Another World (Isekai Nonbiri Nouka). The pleasant, innocuous story quickly gained popularity and spawned a manga adaptation in 2018. One Peace Books is now bringing the popular manga adaptation to American readers with an authorized English translation. The first volume introduces the setting and scenario, founding cast, and the story’s quirky amiable tone.

The story revolves around Japanese salaryman and middle-aged invalid Hiraku Machio. After dying unceremoniously at age 39, a mysterious god-like being resurrects Hiraku in a younger, heartier body in a primeval forest, giving him only a set of clothing and a single magical farming tool. Hiraku then sets to carving out a life for himself, literally, by tilling the land, felling trees to construct rudimentary buildings, and eventually giving rise to a makeshift rural farming village. The story is obviously aware of its well-worn genre roots. After all, the first chapter is titled, “Typical Relocation to Another World.” Yet the story manages to work around strict redundancy. “Isekai Farming” varies slightly from other familiar titles that also star reincarnated protagonists. Kazuma in author Jitakukeibihei’s Kono Subarashii Sekai ni Shukufuku o! is reincarnated in his original body at his same age. Satoru in author Fuse’s Tensei Shitara Suraimu Datta Ken is resurrected as a different species. The protagonists of Knight’s & Magic and Kenja no Mago are conventionally reincarnated as newborn infants in their new worlds. Hiraku Machio, however, is directly reincarnated as a healthy, full grown young adult version of himself. However, that’s not to say that the story doesn’t fall back onto familiar isekai tropes. Although “Isekai Farmer” isn’t an action/adventure story, it still depicts a protagonist reincarnated with superhuman “cheats.” And it’s largely from this particular scenario that much of the story’s absurdist humor grows.

Per his own request, Hiraku is reincarnated with a body highly resistant to normal human weaknesses including fatigue, exhaustion, hunger, and sickness. Moreover, seemingly as a result of his literally charmed existence, the difficulties of agricultural frontier life are magically simplified for him. This story is no Dr. Stone, in which the protagonist has to struggle to scrape together every aspect of survival. Rather than need to hunt for sustenance, wild animals hurl themselves at Hiraku so that he might easily slaughter them. Merely by turning the soil and wishing, whatever crops Hiraku desires magically mature. He doesn’t need to worry about voracious insects because miraculously plain water functions as a totally effective insecticide for him. Despite having been an metropolitan office worker in his previous life, and despite repeatedly claiming that he doesn’t have the skill or knowledge to craft rustic accoutrements, Hiraku seems to be able to carve, build, or craft a functionally sufficient version of anything he needs on his first try. Wild animals spontaneously become tame, domesticated pets after coming into contact with him. Even shortly after Hiraku privately aspires for a wife, not only does a buxom nubile woman appear, in short order Hiraku finds himself bestowed with an entire literal harem of attractive fantasy race women.

In effect, the story starts out as a subdued parody but rather quickly reveals itself to be a domestic absurdist comedy. Early plot points seem mysterious and potentially foreshadowing of future story development. But they’re probably not. The “god” figure suggests that reincarnating Hiraku is a self-serving gesture, implying that possibly in the future Hiraku will be revealed as a small piece in a larger machination among gods. But then the story seems to undermine that possibility. The god figure suggests that he has a divine plan for Hiraku but then allows Hiraku to dictate every aspect of the reincarnation as though there never was any predetermined plan in the first place. The god figure endows Hiraku with a magical tool embedded into Hiraku’s very identity yet oddly encourages Hiraku to keep the tool safe, as if it can somehow be lost or damaged. But the plot implication appears to be just an irrelevant platitude rather than a suggestion of a looming plot thread. Once Hiraku’s new life begins, even more unexplained and arbitrary situations arise. Hiraku spends weeks inside his one-room domicile during winter, but the story doesn’t explain what he does to stave away boredom. A pack of migratory elves have spent 200 years searching for a place to settle down yet haven’t located a suitable place yet despite all of the surrounding land being uninhabited and available. Moreover, disparate branches of the elf tribe have been traveling around the same land for 200 years yet haven’t ever managed to find each other. Effectively, select revelations including wild animals having remarkably human intellects eventually reveal that the story is just too unbelievable and absurd to be anything besides a fantasy slice-of-life comedy rather than a fantasy drama.

The execution of the manga likewise reinforces the interpretation that “Isekai Farmer” is a fantasy comedy rather than a fantasy drama. Illustrator Yasuyuki Tsurugi’s manga art, based on Yasumo’s original novel illustration character designs, are remarkably anime-esque, showing no trace of the rough, tough hardship associated with farming life. Hiraku starts his agricultural life with one set of clothes, yet despite months of hard outdoor labor, his clothes never exhibit any fraying. Occasionally the visual art lacks proper perspective. Most notably, Hiraku describes the monster rabbits as “huge,” and states that just one provides enough meat to last five days. Yet the rabbit is illustrated at the size of an ordinary garden rabbit. Otherwise the visual art is entirely sufficient, although not elaborate. Background art is minimal and typically limited to just forestation.

One Peace Book’s script translation is free of errors and typos. With one exception, the script doesn’t reference Japanese honorables, so suffixes don’t need translation. Sound effects are translated in-frame, although in one instance the translation is partially superimposed over the original art. The story does include some subtle and prominent references to Japanese culture that aren’t extensively defined, including the salaryman “death march” and bowing to express gratitude even when alone, and summarily defined references to “zabuton” and “Hanasaka Jiisan.” But these passing references are minor and easily brushed by. The story includes male and female nudity, but depictions are censored and non-graphic. The script contains no offensive language although it does contain some comedic sexual innuendo. The story’s first four pages, originally published in color during the magazine serialization, are rendered in monochrome for the collected volume. The 168-page book contains the manga’s first 16 chapters, a single-page postscript, and a four-page bonus prose story by original author Naito Kinosuke.

The first volume of Yasuyuki Tsurugi’s Farming Life in Another World manga adaptation is a breezy, enjoyable distraction. It doesn’t take itself seriously in the least and, as a result, provides some amusing entertainment. The manga can be easily described as a cousin to Riichiro Inagaki & Boichi’s manga Dr. Stone, although without any of the drama, tension, or action, a less instructive version of Hiromu Arakawa’s Gin no Saji (“Silver Spoon”), or a parallel to Atto’s Non Non Biyori starring a young adult man rather than preadolescent girls. Farming Life in Another World also feels a lot like an even more lighthearted and whimsical sibling to That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime. One Peace Books will release the first volume of the Farming Life in Another World manga in print and digital formats on October 28.

For transparency sake, One Peace Books provided me a PDF review copy of the first volume, and no other incentive, suggestion, or request.