Nico: Simonscans

Simon, the group’s enigmatic founder, was known for high-quality raws, meticulous cleaning, and translations that prioritized mood over literal accuracy. In 2011, they released a 40-page scanlation of Nico’s debut chapter. It spread slowly across forums like Batoto, /a/, and a now-defunct LiveJournal community called ScarletScans .

If you’ve spent any time in online art communities—especially those orbiting dark fantasy, gritty manga, or indie visual storytelling—you’ve probably seen the name pop up in forum threads or Discord recs: simonscans nico . simonscans nico

Part of it is . In the few pages still floating around (low-resolution PNGs, watermarked with simonscans’ faded logo), Nico is heartbreaking. They carry a broken compass. They talk to a ghost that may not exist. In one memorable panel, they sit by a flooded highway and simply say: “I don’t remember why I’m walking. But stopping feels worse.” Simon, the group’s enigmatic founder, was known for

That kind of raw, minimalist angst sticks with you. Of course, simonscans operated in a legal fog. Scanning and translating without permission is copyright infringement, plain and simple. But when the original creator has vanished, and the work is unavailable in any language, fans face a dilemma: let it die, or become an archivist. If you’ve spent any time in online art

Simon chose the latter—then disappeared, leaving behind a scattered digital graveyard. Some argue that’s irresponsible. Others say it adds to the mystique. Either way, “simonscans nico” has become shorthand for a specific kind of webcomic tragedy: the beautiful thing you almost saved. Short answer: maybe.