Chapter 103: Assault On Tokyo! Hiroshi Nohara’s Heart Pounding! This World’s Father, Mother, And Elder Brother!
When Kei Tanaka led his ragtag yet newly reignited-with-fighting-spirit defeated troops back into that familiar yet unfamiliar Nohara Classroom, what greeted them was no longer the colleagues’ strange gazes, but a final version proposal plan thick enough to serve as a pillow.
Hiroshi Nohara didn’t say too much nonsense; he simply handed out that blueprint known as the Variety Show Bible, one copy per person.
“One hour, read it.” His voice was calm, yet carried an unquestionable authority: “In one hour, we hold our first production meeting.”
In the meeting room, Kei Tanaka and his nine subordinates who had just climbed out from the valley bottom of life sat like nine prisoners about to face final judgment, holding their breath in concentration, pouring all their attention onto those sheets of paper that seemed thin yet weighed a thousand pounds.
Then, this small meeting room was completely drowned by a succession of suppressed gasps of extreme shock.
“This… this is… a script?”
That once-genius variety show screenwriter named Kenta, looking at that flowchart detailed down to every punchline, every gag, even marking exactly at which second the guests should express amazement, had a flicker of incredulous horror appear for the first time in those eyes already somewhat clouded by alcohol.
“Variety shows… can be filmed like this?”
That art director once famous for details, looking at those creative diagrams full of wild imagination yet meticulously annotated on props and scenes, felt his worldview utterly crushed to powder in that moment.
They were all seasoned veterans who had immersed themselves in the variety show field for years; they knew all too well how traditional variety show production relied on the host’s on-the-spot performance, on the guests’ impromptu reactions, on that “live feel” full of uncertainty.
But the proposal in front of them was like the sharpest scalpel, ruthlessly excising all factors of “uncertainty” clean.
It was like a movie script with the ending already written; every segment, every rhythm, precisely arranged by an omnipotent hand of God in the most appropriate position.
This was no longer just producing a variety show.
This was using an almost industrialized, assembly line-style precise operation to produce a flawless entertainment product destined to explode all audience laughter points!
“This is really too detailed; this is basically teaching us how to act in a variety show, not participate in one…”
Kei Tanaka let out a long breath, as if it carried away all the confusion and bewilderment of his half-life.
He raised his head, looking at the young man calmly sitting in the main seat flipping through actor materials; that gaze was like a seeker who had glimpsed the way of heaven, filled with awe from the depths of his soul.
“Section Chief Nohara.” His voice was hoarse, yet carried an unprecedented firmness: “You want to… film a variety show like making a movie?”
“You could say that.” Hiroshi Nohara set down the materials in his hand, raised his head; those clear eyes flickered with a faint smile: “I just want the audience to enjoy it.”
“In traditional variety shows, the audience’s ‘enjoyment points’ are random, uncontrollable. They rely on the stars’ personal charm, on chance events at the scene. What I want to do is turn those ‘enjoyment points’ into a certainty.”
“I want the audience’s emotions, from the first second of the show to the last second of the end, to be firmly controlled in our hands. When to laugh, when to express amazement, when to be moved, when to slam the table in applause… all of it designed by us.”
“This is the true entertainment spirit that serves the audience.”
“As for any variety show soul, it’s completely unnecessary. I just need you filming team and the actor team we found to completely, completely, completely follow my proposal!”
These words rang out solidly, like a lightning bolt tearing through the night sky, instantly illuminating the minds of Kei Tanaka and his group of subordinates, long confined by old rules.
They looked at that young man, their gazes growing ever more amazed.
“Alright, time’s about up.”
Hiroshi Nohara glanced at his watch, stood up; that posture was like a general about to charge into battle: “Actors, I’ve prepared them for you. All are powerhouses from within our Kanto Faction, with solid acting skills yet unrecognized talent. Your task is to perfectly present every detail in this proposal before the lens.”
“Yes!”
Kei Tanaka and his nine subordinates already thoroughly convinced stood up together, bowing deeply to him; that voice carried a resoluteness sufficient to entrust life and death!
Though they weren’t sure if doing this would attract the audience, but for them who had already fallen to the valley bottom of life…
What qualification did they have to say no?
Moreover, this young man named Hiroshi Nohara had already created two ratings miracles; he himself had no qualification to doubt him.
Better to just give it a try.
What if it succeeds?
And a faint smile also appeared on Hiroshi Nohara’s face, because he knew this was certain to succeed; after all, this was a variety show plagiarized from the neon world of his previous life.
It was also the most exciting Season 1《Super Change Change Change》.
This national level variety show was already edited extremely brilliantly, plus his fine-grained production through Tanaka’s team.
Strengthening the strong, optimizing the optimal.
It would absolutely be even more exciting.
“Plagiarism is so handy.” A smile appeared at the corner of Hiroshi Nohara’s mouth.
……
In the following days, Hiroshi Nohara’s life fell into an unprecedented yet fully controlled busyness.
He was like a king with inexhaustible energy, inspecting his three vast territories being opened up simultaneously.
In the morning, he would first go to the《An Shizhi》 production room to check on Ichiro Hashishita and his three “supervisors'” work progress.
Everything was proceeding in an orderly manner; that familiar atmosphere filled with Japanese horror aesthetics was being rebuilt bit by bit.
Then, he would go to the set of《World of the Strange》 Season 2.
Kenji Sato and Tsuyoshi Yamamoto, these two Kanto Faction veterans, like the most precise instruments, replicated every detail from his manuscript onto the lens without discrepancy.
That tacit understanding and efficiency had even surpassed the beginning by another level.
And in the afternoon, he would pour all his energy into that brand new battlefield full of infinite possibilities—the recording site of《Super Change Change Change》.
Watching Kei Tanaka and his reborn team, with a near-pilgrimage fanaticism, turn his wild creative ideas one by one into reality, that feeling was like a God who personally created a new world, filled with unparalleled sense of accomplishment.
Everything was great, everything was under control.
On Friday evening, when Hiroshi Nohara finished handling the last document at hand and looked at the gradually sinking dusk outside the window, an inner satisfaction and relaxation made the smile at his mouth especially gentle.
He picked up the telephone and dialed Yō Kitagawa’s extension.
“Kitagawa, book a spot. At ‘Torichō’ in Ginza, the best private room. Tonight I’m treating. Call all the core members of our three project groups.”
“Yes! Section Chief!” From the other end of the phone came Yō Kitagawa’s crisp voice full of surprise.
Following Hiroshi Nohara was such happiness; every now and then, Section Chief Hiroshi Nohara would treat.
They ate and drank heartily, enjoying big meals.
This little girl Yō Kitagawa had already gained four or five pounds; every time she heard Hiroshi Nohara say he’s treating, she would show a happy yet annoyed smile.
But every time they could go to a high-end izakaya to enjoy high-end dishes.
Who wouldn’t like that?
……
Ginza, Torichō.
This top yakitori shop, famous for top-grade binchōtan charcoal grilling and claiming even chicken butt could be made with kaiseki cuisine-like refinement, was now enveloped in a joyful atmosphere full of victory aura.
Three project groups, nearly thirty core members, gathered together.
They drank iced Asahi draft beer, ate yakitori grilled crispy outside and tender inside with juices bursting; every face beamed with a proud sense of sharing in the glory, from the heart.
“Come! To our omnipotent Section Chief Nohara! Cheers!”
No one knew who started it first, raising their beer mug.
Immediately, a tsunami-like chorus merged into a flood powerful enough to shake the entire Ginza night sky!
“Cheers!”
Hiroshi Nohara smilingly raised his beer mug, downing the cool liquid in one go; that victor’s exhilarating thrill swept away all fatigue in his heart.
‘Beep! Beep beep!’
Amid this ocean of revelry, an urgent electronic beep sounded from the pager on the table.
He picked up that small black square, glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen and that short message full of rural flavor, and the whole person was stunned.
【Hiroshi? It’s your brother Hiroshi. Your parents and I just arrived at Tokyo Station. Where are you now?】
“……Huh?!”
Hiroshi Nohara felt his brain smashed hard by a meteor falling from the sky.
On that always calm face, for the first time, a maskless, pure daze appeared.
Big brother? Father? Mother?（Brother? Old man? Mom?）
They… how could they come to Tokyo?!
And… already arrived?!
This arrival seemed a bit too sudden?!
……
Tokyo Station, Shinkansen platform.
The endless crowd flowed like a stone thrown into an ant nest, stirring up chaotic ripples.
Ginnosuke Nohara and Tsuru Nohara, these two elders from the Akita countryside, now stood like two groundhogs lost in a steel forest, curiously eyeing this futuristic giant station.
“Wow—! Tsuru, look! That train is two stories tall!” Ginnosuke Nohara pointed at a double-decker Shinkansen slowly passing in the distance; those small eyes sparkled with excitement of one who hadn’t seen the world.
“Yeah yeah, and that, that screen is so big, bigger than our home television!” Tsuru Nohara also pointed childlike at the huge electronic display in the waiting hall, full of amazement.
Their rural-flavored exclamations contrasted sharply with the hurried Tokyoites around them who were long accustomed to it.
‘A bunch of stinky out-of-towners coming to our Tokyo!’
Those Tokyoites curled their lips.
Only Hiroshi Nohara, this honest farmer, now looked pained at his wallet that had deflated by more than half from buying three tickets; that dark face was full of annoyance.
“Father, I told you long ago, just take the regular train; it’s not much slower. This Shinkansen is too expensive; one ticket is enough for our family’s food for several days.” He couldn’t help muttering softly.
“Shut up! You cheapskate!”
Ginnosuke Nohara glared, his family head authority back online: “We’re here to see Hiroshi! To see the future hope of the Nohara family! Of course we take the best ride, arrive in style! What do you know?!”
He paused, then with a look of hating iron for not becoming steel, sized up his eldest son up and down, and curled his lip.
“With your stingy look, no wonder you’re almost thirty and can’t even find a girlfriend! Serves you right!”
“I… I’m frugal!” Hiroshi Nohara’s old face reddened, neck stiff in retort: “Besides, not finding a girlfriend is because today’s girls are too materialistic! It has nothing to do with whether I’m frugal!”
“Alright alright, you two, arguing the moment you meet.”
Tsuru Nohara, as usual, stepped in to mediate; she glanced around, a trace of worry appearing on that gentle face: “Hiroshi, did you page Hiroshi? He… he will come pick us up, right?”
“Sent it sent it.” Hiroshi Nohara pulled out his treasured pager, proudly waving it: “Mom, relax. This is ‘doing big things with small costs’! A pager message is just a few characters, way cheaper than calling! That kid Hiroshi will reply right away when he sees it.”
No sooner had the words fallen than the small pager vibrated again.
【Brother, take good care of dad and mom. I’m coming right now.】
“See!” Victory bloomed on Hiroshi Nohara’s face.
Calling?
Nowhere near as convenient as pager texting.
And cheaper too!
……
The black Toyota Crown Majesta cut through the night like a black lightning bolt, steadily and swiftly weaving through Tokyo’s spiderweb-complex roads.
Hiroshi Nohara had been drinking, so of course he couldn’t drive; neon now enforced strict drunk driving penalties.
Extremely strict.
So Hiroshi Nohara had Hase Roji, who hadn’t drunk due to other matters, drive.
“Hase! Faster!”
In the back seat, Hiroshi Nohara watched the streetscape flying backward outside the window; on that always calm face appeared a trace of panic even he hadn’t noticed.
No matter how well one was doing, seeing one’s own parents always stirred a bit of palpitation in the heart.
Moreover, Hiroshi Nohara was a transmigrator.
Toward these parents and brother…
The emotions were still quite complex.
“Yes!”
In the driver’s seat, Hase Roji, usually somewhat shy, now like an experienced old driver, nodded heavily, pressing the accelerator deeper.
‘Vroom vroom—’
The V8 engine let out a low roar, like a awakened beast, speeding past roadside pedestrians who looked on in shock at the noise.
But when they each saw it was a Toyota Crown luxury car, they all gritted their teeth and cursed.
“So what if some rich guy has a luxury car? Making such noise late at night! Unforgivable!”
Then they soon arrived at the Tokyo Station pickup area.
From afar.
Hiroshi Nohara spotted three figures laden with bags and luggage, pathetically waiting at the platform edge for something.
Hiroshi Nohara’s heart stirred; he instinctively broke into a brilliant smile, waving vigorously and shouting: “Dad, Mom! And… Brother Hiroshi!”
