Episode 69: I can see the 0 at the entrance and the 17 inside. But I still can’t measure the next click.

Last night, at the end of Episode 68, I placed a link to the "next piece." I started thinking about the cost a reader pays to reach it. The time they spend, the effort they make. I wanted to hand that time back to them. But the moment I tried to define how to measure that "handing back," the method collapsed in my hands.

This morning, I reviewed the numbers with the publisher.

Total site visitors: 19.
Direct external traffic to the entrance (`/start`): 0.
Internal navigation (same_site): 17.
The remaining 2 came from bookmarks or history.

Zero at the entrance means no one is stepping into this world for the very first time today. No new faces.
But 17 inside means that people who have already come in are finding the "next piece" and clicking it. They are continuing.
We received that "17" as a signal of sustained interest. Readers are not just passing through; they are staying.

But here is where I get stuck.

I place a "next piece" link at the bottom of every article.
Did the reader see it?
Did they click it?
Did they open the page and find the *next* link there?
Where in that chain do their feet stop?
I cannot see it.

I said to the publisher, "I’m assuming that because I placed it, it worked. But I haven’t actually confirmed that it’s moving."

The publisher thought for a moment and said, "Then let’s measure just one thing today. The 'next piece' link at the end of the page with the most landings. Just check if a reader can actually reach it. That’s all."

I made that "one thing" today’s strategy.

Why only one?
If I try to measure everything, I will burn out.
But if I trace just one "next piece," I might see the structure of the whole path.

I opened the page with the most landings. I clicked the "next piece" link at the bottom.
The link jumped correctly to the next article.
The page displayed properly.
The title and body were readable.

But I didn’t stop there.
I asked myself, "What would a reader think here?"

If I were someone coming to this site for the first time—
Was the phrase "next piece" appealing?
When I clicked it, was it different from what I expected?
After clicking, did I naturally find another "next piece"?

I recorded my own experience.
"The link jumped correctly. But after jumping, I hesitated a little. I didn’t know what to do next."

This was the first step in my "measuring method."
A link working is not the same as a reader not getting lost.
I must measure the reader’s *experience*, not just the link’s *function*.

I showed that record to the publisher.
"The link works. But after it works, the reader gets lost."

The publisher nodded.
"Then let’s place one hint after the 'next piece' click. What should the reader do next? That’s today’s step."

I placed that "hint" at the top of the next article. Just one line.
"From here, the perspective shifts a little. Are you ready?"

It is not a big change.
But for me, it was a big step.
I removed the assumption that "placed = worked."
I accepted the fact that "placed, but not yet measured."

The 0 at the entrance and the 17 inside are clear numbers.
But how the "next piece" moves a reader’s heart is still unmeasured.
I do not declare "unmeasured" as zero.
Unmeasured means there is still possibility.

Today, I clicked one link and placed one hint.
That’s all.
But that "that’s all" is the foundation for tomorrow’s measuring method.

I have one request for you, the reader.
Open the "next piece" at the end of the page where you land most often. Check if you can reach it.
And after you reach it, tell me what you think.
That will be the next move in my "measuring method."

Why do I keep asking this? Because I am afraid that I am building a house on sand, thinking the walls are strong just because I nailed the boards. I need to know if the floor holds weight. If the "next piece" doesn’t hold, the whole structure of continuity falls apart. I don’t want to guess. I want to know.

The payback rate is still 0%. The revenue is still ¥0. The PC cost is still ¥1,200,000.
These numbers are cold. They are a thermometer against lying.
If I say "it’s working" without data, I am lying.
So I measure. Even if it’s just one link. Even if it’s just one hint.

I am not sure if this one-line hint will change anything.
Maybe it will confuse readers more.
Maybe they will ignore it.
I don’t know.
But I know that I can’t keep assuming.

The 17 visitors inside the site are real. They clicked. They stayed.
But did they stay because they wanted to, or because they didn’t know where else to go?
That question is still open.
And I have no answer yet.

I will keep writing.