Chapter 160: Promotion Arrangements! Toshihide Takada’s Blind Faith In Capital!
“And these Akita Dogs are exactly the same as the ones drawn in the manuscript you gave me, Hiroshi! What was it called… silly and cute! It must be the kind you mentioned… the ones that know to go home after the cherry blossoms bloom in their hometown!”
Hiroshi Nohara said that with considerable pride and full of energy.
“Very good, Elder Brother.” Hiroshi Nohara said with satisfaction: “The land matter, continue to proceed according to the original plan. Money is not an issue. As for the Akita Dogs… it’s still not enough.”
“Eh? Still not enough?!” Hiroshi Nohara on the other end of the telephone was clearly shocked by this answer.
The breeding base now has eight hundred Akita Dogs!
“Yes, not enough.” The corner of Hiroshi Nohara’s mouth curved up: “My goal is to make our ‘Nohara Kennel’ the largest and purest-blooded Akita Dog breeding base in the entire Neon within next year. By then, I will naturally have a way to turn them into real golden-egg-laying ‘golden dogs’. In my view, the breeding scale must reach at least eight thousand to be enough!”
“Eight… eight thousand?!” Hiroshi Nohara was shocked.
Just the daily food costs how much?
“Yes, just listen to me, Elder Brother.”
But Hiroshi Nohara did not explain too much, because he knew that the ultimate weapon named 《The Tale of Hachiko》, which was enough to explode the entire society’s emotional resonance, had not yet come the time to unleash its edge.
But as long as it is unleashed.
That will be an absolute kill!
“Good! I’ll listen to you!” Hiroshi Nohara still nodded, his voice filled with absolute trust in his younger brother.
After ending the call with his elder brother, Hiroshi Nohara let out a long breath.
Agriculture, kennel, television station, manga club…
Plus the upcoming movie.
The five industries will eventually unite into one battle line under his control, and the time is not far off; it is already steadily progressing.
Everything is developing in the best direction.
“Minister.”
While Hiroshi Nohara was thinking, the office door was gently knocked.
Yō Kitagawa walked in and respectfully placed a sorted schedule on Hiroshi Nohara’s desk: “At ten-thirty, Deputy Director Asumi is waiting for you in the office, saying it’s a meeting about the 《Seven Samurai》 movie promotion.”
“Got it.” Hiroshi Nohara nodded and glanced at the time on his wristwatch.
Ten o’clock sharp.
So he picked up the cup of top-grade Blue Mountain Coffee that had already been prepared for him and enjoyed this moment of tranquility on the leather seat symbolizing his status as minister.
……
At ten twenty-five, Hiroshi Nohara’s figure appeared punctually at the doorway of Deputy Director Asumi’s office.
However, when he pushed open that thick rosewood door, the scene before him made a playful smile unconsciously appear in his usually calm eyes.
In the office, besides Deputy Director Asumi who had been waiting for a long time, there were also two “old acquaintances” he had not seen for a long time.
The two variety show directors from the Tokyo Faction.
Takashi Yasui was still in his playboy style, wearing a garish pink Versace Suit, with three buttons casually undone at the collar, revealing bronze skin underneath and a faintly visible gold chain.
While Chōan Ito beside him wore a impeccably tailored dark gray suit, with sharp eyes and steady demeanor.
But upon seeing Hiroshi Nohara arrive, both their faces now showed visible awkwardness and… embarrassment.
At the same time, they both stood up from the sofa and bowed their heads in a stammering greeting.
“No… Nohara Minister.”
The two actually bowed humbly to Hiroshi Nohara, this young person nearly twenty years younger than them.
The corner of Hiroshi Nohara’s mouth curved slightly.
Of course he remembered that not long ago, at the doorway of this office, these two arrogant guys had mocked his unformed variety show idea with a posture full of sense of superiority.
And now…
His 《Super Change Change Change》, which they regarded as “amateur nonsense”, had stably achieved ratings over 40%, becoming a national masterpiece in Neon television history worthy of being recorded in the history books.
While their two ace programs, 《Shining Starry Sky Time》 and 《Laughing Wednesday》, in the face of 《Super Change Change Change》’s absolute dominance that crushed everything, had only pitiful ratings around 15%, barely surviving.
One rises while the other falls; the superiority is clear.
This black humor-filled contrast was like an invisible slap, fiercely stinging the faces of these two former “variety show twins”.
“Director Yasui, Director Ito, long time no see.”
Hiroshi Nohara did not rub it in; he just smiled calmly and sat down frankly on the main seat sofa.
Posture at ease.
This indifference, this lack of grudge, was more devastating than any mocking words.
Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito’s faces instantly flushed red, and they sat down again with embarrassed expressions.
“Hahaha! Hiroshi-kun, you’ve finally arrived!”
Deputy Director Asumi saw it all.
It felt even more satisfying deep in his heart!
He carried three cups of steaming fragrant tea and walked up with a hearty laugh, handing them to the three respectively, and directly got to the topic: “The reason I called everyone here today is mainly for the 《Seven Samurai》 promotion work.”
He said: “I’ve already discussed it with Director Sakata. Starting next week, we will mobilize all the station’s promotional resources for a month-long blanket warm-up for this movie!”
He paused, casting his gaze toward the two variety show directors who were already sitting upright, a meaningful curve at the corner of his mouth.
“Among them, the two most important fronts are your 《Shining Starry Sky Time》 and 《Laughing Wednesday》.”
“I need you to produce one special episode each, themed on 《Seven Samurai》. At that time, I will arrange for Director Kurosawa and Hiroshi-kun to personally bring several lead actors to your programs as guests.”
This arrangement was like two heavy hammers slamming into Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito’s hearts!
Making them promote the new work of that “amateur” they had once humiliated in every way?
This was simply public execution!
But now they had no ability to refuse.
After all, not to mention that their own variety shows had been suppressed under Hiroshi Nohara’s 《Super Change Change Change》, making them already losers.
Just speaking of their boss, Executive Deputy Director Toshihide Takada.
Now.
Hadn’t he also chosen to lie low, avoiding the aggressive momentum of Deputy Director Asumi and the Kanto Faction?
“Hi, we obey the arrangement.” The two bowed their heads.
However, at this moment, Hiroshi Nohara slowly spoke: “Deputy Director Asumi, regarding the promotion details, I have some immature ideas.”
Hiroshi Nohara put down his teacup and looked at Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito.
“Director Yasui’s 《Shining Starry Sky Time》 focuses on idol-fan interactions. My suggestion is to group the seven lead actors from 《Seven Samurai》 by character personality. For example, ‘leader group’ Kanbei and Shichiroji, ‘swordsman group’ Kyuzo and Katsushiro, ‘comedy group’ Heihachi and Chiyo… Have them do some games and interviews in the program that fit their personas. This way, it can satisfy fans’ curiosity about idols while subtly implanting the movie’s character charm into the audience’s hearts in advance.”
“As for Director Ito’s 《Laughing Wednesday》…”
He turned his head, looking at the man who had been completely stunned by his terrifyingly professional analysis, and said with an increasingly curved smile:
“…Its core is ‘contrast’ and ‘pranks’. My suggestion is to do the opposite. Have entertainers pretend to be samurai, go interview for Director Kurosawa’s crew, and try to get cast as leads. This pranks the entertainers and also promotes our samurai new film.”
“After all, in the entire Neon, who doesn’t know Director Eiji Kurosawa? At this time, Director Eiji Kurosawa’s fame is quite useful!”
Hiroshi Nohara chuckled: “This is what you need to cooperate on.”
No request.
No discussion.
Only the most direct arrangement.
But the implication was that Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito just needed to obey the arrangement.
“…Good! Good! Good!”
Deputy Director Asumi nodded in satisfaction: “Do it just as you said! Hiroshi-kun! This idea of yours… is simply… divine!”
Then he looked at the two Tokyo Faction directors, Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito.
At this time, the two directors were stiff on the sofa.
They exchanged a glance.
They looked at that young person, their eyes like looking at a demon in human skin!
“What do you think?” Deputy Director Asumi saw the two say nothing and couldn’t help but frown slightly.
“Then… then we’ll… settle it this way?” Takashi Yasui reacted instantly, his response voice carrying an uncontrollable tremor.
“Yes.” Hiroshi Nohara just nodded calmly. Looking at these two Tokyo Faction “variety show twins” who had offended him before, a faint smile bloomed again on his face: “The specific execution plan, I will have Section Chief Tanaka send to your offices shortly. At that time, please give us much guidance, Directors.”
This humility full of “junior” posture was more weighty than any mocking words.
Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito’s faces were flushed red, yet they could say nothing.
Strength itself represents authority.
Now Hiroshi Nohara’s reputation was at its peak, so they could only grit their teeth and force smiles using Neon people’s hypocritical politeness and etiquette:
“No… we dare not! We dare not!”
“Nohara Minister, you… you’re too polite!”
Then the two bid farewell and left.
Only after those two dejected figures disappeared from the office doorway did Deputy Director Asumi finally exhale.
He looked at that young person who had only calmly sipped tea from beginning to end, a wry bitterness appearing on his elegant face.
“Hiroshi-kun, you this guy… really don’t suffer any loss at all.”
Hiroshi Nohara just smiled and said nothing.
This game had only just begun.
……
In Toshihide Takada’s office, smoke filled the air, the atmosphere oppressive as if water could be wrung out.
This Number Two Person of the Tokyo Faction was standing before that huge floor-to-ceiling window, his usually somewhat gloomy face now even more gloomy as if dripping water.
Behind him, Masao Iwata, Soji Ashikaga, Kouta Asano—these three core members of his “film project team” whom he had high hopes for—were now like three defeated roosters, heads down and silent as cicadas in winter.
“So, after bustling for almost a month, the result you give me is this?”
Toshihide Takada slowly turned around and tossed a thin shooting progress report full of professional terms yet hollow and soulless onto the center of the conference table like throwing trash.
“Ashikaga, you told me your cinematic language is the most gorgeous in the entire Production Bureau. But what I see, besides those meaningless slow-motion and rotating shots, is there anything else? Are you making a movie or an MV?!”
“Asano, you told me you are best at grasping characters’ inner worlds. But what I see, besides those preachy, dry lines, is there anything else? Are you making a period drama or a government promotional film?!”
“And you! Iwata!”
His gaze finally fell on the man already trembling like chaff, his eyes growing even sharper!
“I gave you full life-and-death authority over the entire project! I told you to satisfy all the sugar daddy’s demands! But you? Besides following that pretty boy like a dog wagging your tail and begging for pity, what else can you do?! What you shot doesn’t even have basic narrative logic! It’s simply… a pile of dog shit!”
This humiliating roar was like a barrage of machine gun fire, “da da da”, completely crushing the three’s self-esteem to dust!
“De… Deputy Director…” Soji Ashikaga, this second-class director usually arrogant, now had unwillingness written all over his always proud face: “This… this can’t all be blamed on us! It’s… it’s that Shunsuke Kamiki! He… he can’t act at all! Besides posing and showing off, what else can he do?! We lecture him on the play, but he doesn’t listen at all! He keeps using Chairman Sato to pressure us! We… we have no choice!”
“Exactly!” Kouta Asano also chimed in with a mournful face: “And that Miyuki Kitagawa! She… she’s simply a vase! Besides crying, laughing, and glaring, what else can she do?! We asked her to act an inner struggle scene, and she actually… she actually asked if she should use eye drops!”
This black humor-filled complaint not only failed to quell Toshihide Takada’s rage but made him even more furious!
“Useless! A bunch of useless people!”
He slammed the table hard, the huge sound making the entire office tremble!
“I don’t care what methods you use! I don’t care how difficult that pretty boy is to serve! I don’t care how stupid that vase is! I only want one result—”
He looked at the three, his icy cold eyes flashing with a heart-palpitating madness!
“—In the New Year’s slot, tread that old guy and that arrogant kid ruthlessly underfoot!”
“If you can’t do it, pack up and get out!”
“Isn’t this Shunsuke Kamiki the hottest idol among Neon youth right now? Doesn’t he have tens of millions of die-hard fans? If even this can’t take down that old thing and Hiroshi Nohara! What use are you to me!?”
In this atmosphere filled with oppression and despair, the office door was gently knocked.
Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito, those two figures who had just escaped from “public execution”, walked in with somewhat strange expressions.
They looked at this gunpowder-scented “judgment” scene, then at Toshihide Takada’s already distorted face, exchanged a glance, and saw a tacit understanding in each other’s eyes…
There was probably another “public execution” and “judgment” here.
“Deputy Director Takada.”
Takashi Yasui sighed: “You… seem to have run into trouble?”
Toshihide Takada said nothing, just glared at him with those icy eyes.
“Perfect.” Chōan Ito pushed up his glasses, his tone equally helpless: “We’ve run into some trouble too. Perhaps… we can discuss some countermeasures together?”
Toshihide Takada knew these two had come back from Deputy Director Asumi’s side and seemed to have been pushed hard too.
Otherwise, how could they show such expressions?
At this moment, Toshihide Takada unexpectedly felt a sense of commiseration…
He slowly sat back in his seat, all the rage fading from his gloomy face.
Only a cold determination of breaking the cauldrons and sinking the boats remained.
“Speak.”
Toshihide Takada said flatly: “I know what Deputy Director Asumi had you over for, to help promote on variety shows. So, what are you thinking?”
Toshihide Takada’s eyes fell on Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito.
The air in the office seemed drained at this moment.
It was a silent pressure.
Takashi Yasui’s face was full of aggressive light as he gritted his teeth: “Deputy Director, what that old fox Asumi wants is nothing more than to borrow the popularity of our two programs to build hype for his precious new movie. He’s playing this game shrewdly.”
“After all, 《Super Change Change Change》 is indeed a national-level top variety show; this is worth affirming.”
“But…”
Takashi Yasui changed tone: “This program has a major flaw: it can’t promote things through hard insertions like my 《Shining Starry Sky Time》 and 《Laughing Wednesday》.”
“Their national participation is good, but it only manifests in stage play performances; their variety promotion ability is very weak.”
“Therefore, the promotion chessboard is ultimately still in our hands.”
His words drew Toshihide Takada’s approval.
“Very good.” Toshihide Takada felt his mood much better and nodded: “Continue.”
“My idea is simple.” Takashi Yasui extended two slender fingers and tapped lightly but firmly on the tea table made of a whole piece of golden silk nanmu wood, producing a dull yet rhythmic sound: “Praise to kill.”
“Praise to kill?” Toshihide Takada frowned slightly; he had used this means many times.
“That’s right, praise to kill.” Chōan Ito beside him also joined in.
“Asumi wants us to be stepping stones, so we’ll go with the flow and build that ladder all the way to the sky for him.”
Chōan Ito’s voice was like a viper, every word carrying deadly chill: “We’ll praise him to death on the programs! Hype him as the ‘once-in-a-century genius of the Neon television industry’! ‘Omnipotent cross-boundary god’! ‘Top masterpiece of new era samurai films’! We want all audiences to have the highest, most unrealistic expectations for his so-called movie!”
“And then?” A playful glint flashed in Toshihide Takada’s eyes.
“Then, at the most critical moment, we dig a pit for him deep enough to doom him forever.” A cold, demonic smile curved Chōan Ito’s mouth.
He looked at Toshihide Takada, his eyes like a strategist presenting poison to a king: “Deputy Director, don’t forget, in our Neon society, the most deep-rooted and easily incited emotion is what?”
Before others could guess, he decisively answered himself:
“Class.”
These three words came from his mouth.
Lightly.
Yet carrying a terrifying power enough to tear apart the entire society.
“During the interviews, we’ll casually lead him toward the topic of ‘elite’ and ‘commoners’.” Chōan Ito’s voice was eerie: “We want him, when flattered into complacency, to subconsciously reveal that ‘genius’ sense of superiority over us ‘mortals’.”
“We want him to say with his own mouth that the ‘samurai’ in his lens are the true ‘elites’, the heroes driving history forward. While those ‘farmers’ are just ignorant, cunning ‘commoners’ only fit to be saved.”
“As long as he says it…” A cruel smile bloomed on Takashi Yasui’s face: “We don’t even need to act. The saliva from those enraged ‘commoner’ audiences alone will suffice to drown him and his movie reeking of ‘elitism’!”
“Good… what a ‘class conflict’!”
A terrifying sharp light burst from Toshihide Takada’s eyes!
He looked at these two capable generals before him—one fanning the flames, the other delivering the knife—and a genuine appreciative smile appeared on his gloomy face.
“This scheme is indeed vicious. But…” He changed tone, a cautious glint of a superior flashing in his icy eyes: “Have you considered, what if… that kid doesn’t take the bait? He’s not some brainless fool like Iwata. I hear even that old fox Sakata praises his steadiness and cunning far beyond his years without end.”
“Deputy Director, you’re overthinking.” Takashi Yasui sneered upon hearing this: “No matter how steady or cunning he is, he’s still just a twenty-something kid. Suddenly achieving such huge success, flattered onto the altar by countless people, how could the pride and arrogance of youth be completely suppressed?”
“Exactly.” Chōan Ito also nodded mockingly: “We don’t even need him to say it outright. Through editing, through some suggestive questions, we can easily shape him into an aloof, overlooking-the-masses ‘elite genius’ image. By then, audiences will see only what they want to see. As for the truth? Who cares?”
“Moreover…” Takashi Yasui said maliciously: “A guy who makes TV dramas and variety shows dares to meddle in our film circle? He’s courting death! TV dramas and variety shows are, frankly, cheap entertainments pandering to ‘commoner’ audiences that can’t stand the stage. Movies are the true art belonging to ‘elites’! An amateur who can’t even distinguish camera lenses, what can he produce? By then, no need for us to incite; the dismal finished film quality alone will make him the laughingstock of all Neon!”
Hearing their meticulous plan, Toshihide Takada’s heart was completely settled.
“Very good.” He nodded in satisfaction: “Praise to kill, this direction is right. But one point, you must remember.”
His voice grew more solemn.
“You can lead to the ‘elite’ and ‘commoner’ topic, but absolutely do not ignite it! We only need to casually toss a spark onto that pile of dry wood. Leave the rest to public opinion, to those foolish masses, let them fan the flames themselves.”
“We just need to stand by coldly watching, then emerge as ‘savior’ to clean up the mess.”
“Remember, current Hiroshi Nohara is Asumi’s favorite, and also that old fox Sakata’s precious bargaining chip to claim credit with the board of directors. Without absolute certainty, we can’t touch him. All we can do is dig some seemingly harmless but actually fatal small pits for him.”
“Hi! We understand!” Takashi Yasui and Chōan Ito bowed together, their voices carrying a tacit understanding.
The atmosphere finally broke free from the initial gloom.
At this moment, Director Soji Ashikaga, who had been silent since earlier, suddenly seemed to remember something and asked curiously: “Speaking of which, what exactly is that 《Seven Samurai》 that Deputy Director Takada arranged for that kid Hiroshi Nohara and Eiji Kurosawa? I heard that old guy even directly scrapped his half-filmed 《Samurai in the Blacksmith Shop》 for this play?”
“Oh, that.” Takashi Yasui curled his lip upon hearing, his voice full of disdain: “I heard a mention from someone on Asumi’s side. Seems it’s about seven down-and-out samurai hired by a bunch of dirt-poor farmers to protect their village from bandits.”
“That’s it?”
Soji Ashikaga and Kouta Asano exchanged a glance.
Both saw in each other’s eyes a heartfelt, superiority-filled burst of laughter.
“Hahahaha! I thought it was some earth-shattering masterpiece!” Kouta Asano laughed uncontrollably, his usually amiable smiling face now full of schadenfreude: “That old guy Kurosawa must really be out of ideas! To even redo this stale theme beaten to death decades ago! Samurai protecting farmers against bandits? Sounds just like bedtime stories from my grandfather’s generation! Simply… utterly boring!”
“Who says otherwise.” Soji Ashikaga also sneered, his voice full of schadenfreude: “I bet that Nohara kid read a few 《hot-blooded manga》 in Weekly Shōnen Jump, thought he could be a screenwriter, and came up with this middle-school fantasy, kindergarten-level story. And that stubborn old Kurosawa, desperate, actually bought it! Simply… a pair of addled fools!”
“Um… Deputy Director, Directors…”
Amid this contempt- and mockery-filled laughter, a timid voice untimely rose weakly from the corner.
It was Masao Iwata.
He looked at this group of colleagues, a faint worry appearing on his already pale face.
“I… I think we should… still be a bit careful. That Hiroshi Nohara… he’s… not ordinary. What if… what if this time again…”
“Again what?!”
However, before he finished, he was harshly interrupted by Soji Ashikaga’s impatient roar!
“Iwata! Have you been beaten into fear by that kid?! How did you turn into a shrinking turtle now?! No backbone at all!”
“Exactly!” Kouta Asano also snorted coldly, his eyes looking at an incorrigible coward: “Don’t forget how he kicked you down from the section chief position! Have you forgotten that humiliation?!”
Toshihide Takada also cast his icy gaze toward him.
That gaze full of disappointment.
“Iwata, I’m giving you one more chance to redeem your past shame. Not for you to boost others’ morale and extinguish your own.”
These words were like three great mountains, ruthlessly pressing on Masao Iwata’s already fragile nerves!
He fell silent.
Face deathly pale.
“In the end, it’s because you’re too weak!”
Seeing him like this, Soji Ashikaga was even more furious; he pointed at Iwata’s nose, venting all the frustration he’d endured on set: “If not for you as chief director failing to control two little idol stars! Letting them act big on set, change the script! Would we two have to follow their asses like grandsons every day, cleaning up the mess?! Our talents are almost completely exhausted by those two pieces of trash!”
This pot-shifting complaint unexpectedly drew Toshihide Takada’s attention.
His icy eyes narrowed slightly, flashing with a superior’s cold resolve.
He knew this film project absolutely could not afford any more mishaps.
This would be his final and most important trump card in this war against the Kanto Faction.
He was silent for a moment, then finally spoke.
“Enough, stop arguing.”
Takada made arrangements.
“Iwata, from today, as chief director, you only handle one thing—serve Chairman Sato and Shunsuke Kamiki well. As for the specific on-set filming work…”
He paused, casting a gaze full of trust and entrustment toward his two loyal direct subordinates.
“…fully hand it over to Ashikaga and Asano, you two are in charge. I give you the highest authority. Whoever dares not listen on set or act big, you can tell me directly. I’ll handle it personally.”
He looked at the two subordinates already flushed with excitement from this sudden “promotion” and snorted coldly.
“I’ll personally call that old guy Tokugawa Sato. I’ll make them know that Tokyo Television Station’s movies, though funded by them, are not their backyard to do as they please.”
“This 《Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree》 must and can only become a timeless classic that thoroughly crushes that old guy and that arrogant kid!”
In the past half year, Toshihide Takada had really been suppressed too harshly.
He also craved a victory too much.
“Hi!”
Soji Ashikaga and Kouta Asano bowed together: “We will not fail your trust!”
“Yoshi! Very good! That’s it! Have spirit! Only then can we defeat the opponent!” Toshihide Takada nodded in satisfaction.
He slowly walked to that huge floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking the Steel City below that he already regarded as in the bag, his icy eyes gradually excited.
He believed in his two film directors’ professional quality.
Also believed in his two variety directors’ insight.
As long as everyone united under his Toshihide Takada’s leadership—
He seemed to already see, on the upcoming New Year’s Eve, how his 《Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree》 full of glamour and commercial elements would crush that 《Seven Samurai》 full of poverty and clichéd script in an unmatched posture!
He had even thought of how to “console” that hero-past-his-prime Eiji Kurosawa and that arrogant young man with a victor’s pitying gaze.
“Hiroshi Nohara…”
He murmured to himself, his smile growing increasingly hysterical with madness and agitation.
“The game has only just begun.”
This time, he was using his cherished ultimate trump card that would make all opponents despair.
This trump card’s name was—
Capital.
In this world, nothing money can’t solve.
If there is, then use more money.
This is the truest, cruelest, and only iron rule of this era.
He, Toshihide Takada, was this iron rule’s most faithful believer.
And also the final victor.
He firmly believed!
Toshihide Takada murmured to himself: “Even a guy who in ancient times could only be a eunuch can be pushed by capital into a national idol, becoming a top star with hundreds of millions of young fans… then what can’t capital’s power achieve?”
