Chapter 123: Excited Kiyoto Suzuki! Kanto Stage’s Rebirth From The Ashes!
In Asumi’s elegant eyes, there burned at this moment a fierce fire capable of devouring everything.
He looked at the young person before him, who was calm as if discussing the weather, and that heart, long tempered by the power field into something as hard as a rock, began to pound violently beyond his control.
“Fans… warriors… topics… traffic…”
He murmured to himself, repeatedly chewing these future-filled unfamiliar terms on the tip of his tongue; each taste deepened the shock in his eyes.
Beside him, Kiyoto Suzuki, this veteran who had clawed his way through Kanto Television Station for most of his life, now looked like an elementary student encountering calculus for the first time, his face filled with pure bewilderment and… a profound sense of helplessness from being struck head-on by the flood of the era.
“I… I actually find myself unable to understand some of it.”
He gave a bitter smile and shook his head, his voice carrying a desolation from deep in the bones: “What does ‘selling sense of participation’ mean? What does ‘black fans are also traffic’ mean? Hiroshi-kun, what you’re saying… I feel like it’s from a completely different world from the television I’ve been making for thirty years.”
“Because we truly are no longer in the same world, Suzuki-senpai.”
Hiroshi Nohara’s tone was calm: “The era you’re in is one of ‘I speak, you listen’ one-way transmission. The one I’m about to usher in is an interactive era of ‘I speak, you curse, he praises, we all revel together.'”
“This this this…” This struck Kiyoto Suzuki like lightning, leaving him frozen in place.
“Oh!?” Asumi suddenly raised his head, his eyes bursting with a heat bordering on greed!
Though he didn’t understand either, he had after all held leadership positions for a long time.
Asumi knew this very clearly.
A new era…
Was destined to leave some people with mouths full of oil, bowls overflowing, even etching their names into history.
Fame and wealth in hand!
Moreover, carefully calculating Hiroshi Nohara’s earlier words, Asumi’s voice trembled slightly with excitement: “Hiroshi-kun, that 100 million yen champion prize you mentioned… I roughly calculated earlier, just from cooperating with Nippon Telegraph and Telephone Corporation to open paid phone voting channels, the revenue share we get would probably exceed that amount! This… this is simply a business with returns a hundredfold!”
“Far more than a hundredfold.” Hiroshi Nohara chuckled lightly.
That smile carried a sense of superiority from a dimensional reduction strike on this era’s commercial mode: “Deputy Director Asumi, what you’ve seen is just the tip of the iceberg. Once the ‘fan support group’ mode matures, once those ‘warriors’ fighting for hometown honor assemble, the commercial value generated around this IP will be an astronomical figure beyond your imagination.”
“From selling support merchandise to offline tickets for regional finals; from advertising revenue from contestant endorsements to future derivative personal variety shows for the champion… This is a true entertainment empire that can produce its own blood, self-sustaining and self-circulating.”
And this was the fan circle culture from his previous life in Huaxia, already so mature that countless people had rotten within it!
Silence.
Dead silence.
Asumi and Kiyoto Suzuki stared blankly at the young person before them.
They felt their brains—those two professional brains filled with traditional television “iron rules” and “experience”—were at this moment thoroughly crushed to powder by a more primal, purer, powerful force called “capital”!
They finally understood that this young person wasn’t simply producing a program.
He was directing an unprecedented large-scale commercial experiment with all of Neon as the stage and 120 million people as actors!
……
This fire named “100 Million Yen Dream,” personally ignited by Hiroshi Nohara, spread the next day with an unstoppable prairie fire momentum across the entire Neon Archipelago.
From snowy Sapporo in Hokkaido to sweltering Fukuoka on Kyushu Island; from bustling and noisy Osaka on Honshu Island to tranquil and rustic Takamatsu on Shikoku Island…
The eight major geographic regions of Neon Country seemed ignited overnight by this sudden fanaticism!
“Did you hear? That 《Super Change Change Change》 on Tokyo Television Station—the champion gets a 100 million yen bonus!”
“100 million?! My god! This… this is more exaggerated than winning the lottery jackpot?!”
“More than just the bonus! Didn’t you read the newspaper? This is a regional showdown! If our Hokkaido wins, we can tread those arrogant Tokyo folks underfoot!”
“Exactly! Why should all the good stuff go to those Kanto people? This time, us Northeasterners must show them what true creativity is!”
This regional fire suppressed for centuries instantly blazed into flames capable of devouring everything under the catalysis of the simplest, crudest fuel: “100 million yen”!
Audition registration points in major cities were completely overwhelmed!
In front of the registration booth in Osaka’s Shinsaibashi, the line stretched endlessly; the scene was hotter than the annual Tenjin Festival.
A man in a Hanshin Tigers baseball team jersey with face paint was gesturing wildly at the camera, declaring his “battle cry” in a bold Kansai dialect tone: “We Osakans have comedy in our bones! This champion can only be ours!”
And behind him, countless similarly bizarrely dressed, imaginative Osaka citizens chorused the support slogan that had long echoed throughout Kansai—
“Soul of Naniwa, number one under heaven!”
This fanaticism spread like an unquenchable plague.
Countless ordinary people were thoroughly ignited by the tempting reward and the immense honor of “I can bring glory to my hometown”!
In an instant, all of Neon seemed plunged into a black humor-filled, nationwide performance art revelry.
……
Meanwhile, in the long-forgotten Production Department of Kanto Television Station, the atmosphere was tense like a pre-war command room.
“It’s here! It’s here! Ratings are out!”
A young data analyst stared at the rocket-like soaring curve on the computer screen, his voice trembling with disbelief.
Kiyoto Suzuki’s heart leaped to his throat.
He stared fixedly at the screen, those eyes long muddied by reports and meeting minutes filled with anxiety and anticipation.
“How much?” His voice was dry.
“Over… over 15%!”
“What?!”
The entire control room erupted in an irrepressible gasp!
15%!
An afternoon slot program edited from “loser highlights” actually… achieved 15% ratings?!
This was no mere success; it was a miracle enough to drive the entire Kanto Stage mad!
But this wasn’t the end.
“It’s… it’s rising again! 17%! 18%! Oh my god! Section Chief! It’s… it’s still rising!”
The data analyst’s voice had completely changed pitch, a purest awe from the soul’s depths after witnessing a true miracle!
Finally, as the program’s final image froze, the fresh final ratings report reached Kiyoto Suzuki’s hands. Staring at that glaring, heart-stopping number, he stood frozen as if struck by lightning.
20.1%.
“…”
The entire control room fell into dead silence.
Everyone seemed gripped by an invisible hand at the throat, unable to utter a word.
They stared blankly at that number, their faces showing undisguised, bottomless shock.
This was too terrifying!
In a godlike manner they all failed to comprehend yet had to kneel before.
……
This anti-common sense ratings storm unleashed by the 《Super Change Change Change Audition Version》 spread far faster than anyone imagined.
While Tokyo Television Station was still reeling from the shocking data, the shockwave had crossed regional boundaries, slamming into the faces of those onlooking competitors.
Osaka, Kansai Television Station.
“20.1%?! A program edited from rejection clips?! In that trash slot on Kanto Stage?!”
Production Bureau Deputy Director Ichiro Iwaya stared at the ratings report faxed from Tokyo, feeling his heart gripped by an invisible hand, even breathing becoming difficult.
He recalled his earlier black humor-filled “anti-Hiroshi Nohara alliance.”
Recalled his confident “encirclement” declaration.
Recalled his contempt born of professional superiority toward “amateur variety shows.”
At this moment…
Thoroughly crushed to powder by that terrifying 20.1% number!
One must know.
They hadn’t even figured out their own ‘urban legends’ yet!
Now, Hiroshi Nohara had produced this thing.
Wasn’t this a bit excessive?!
“Monster… that guy… he’s not playing the same game as us at all…” He murmured, his voice filled with the bone-deep helplessness and awe after absolute strength overwhelming.
He finally understood that his so-called “alliance” was, before that young person’s era-subverting absolute talent, merely a black humor-filled, laughable joke.
“Thud—”
Unable to hold on any longer, this man who had dominated Osaka TV for half his life slumped like a puddle of mud onto the leather seat symbolizing power.
That face always filled with irritation and unwillingness had lost all expression, leaving only a deathly pale ashen after total defeat.
……
Tokyo Television Station, Production Bureau Headquarters Building, employee cafeteria.
Lunch break, meant to be a brief respite for the station’s precision machine, now surged with undercurrents like a fish pond hit by a depth charge.
No one laughed loudly; all subconsciously lowered their voices, clustering in twos and threes, exchanging glances and sharing that heart-stopping shock in near-whispers.
And the center of all their topics invariably pointed to that seventeenth-floor existence, now a “holy site” for the entire Production Bureau—【Hiroshi Nohara · Independent Production Department】.
“Did you watch? The 《audition version》 on Kanto Stage the day before yesterday?”
“Watched it! How could I not? My wife and kid were glued to the television, laughing so hard they nearly raised the roof!”
“Who wouldn’t! That cardboard box uncle is my source of happiness! On my way to work today, my mind was full of him flailing upside down!”
“That’s the scariest part!” A bespectacled, rather senior-looking data analyst lowered his voice, his gaze like beholding a monster beyond rational understanding: “You know what? This morning on the train, I deliberately observed—everyone was quietly discussing 《Super Change Change Change》! This isn’t just a simple variety show anymore; it’s a national revelry!”
“This is truly a program everyone nationwide knows about!” Everyone around involuntarily gasped.
“What baffles me most is his ‘nationwide audition.'” A program planner section chief frowned, his face full of pure confusion: “I did the math: setting up audition registration points in all eight major regions simultaneously, plus organizing such large-scale offline support events—the publicity funds poured in must be hundreds of millions of yen! This… this is just burning money! With that cash, hiring top idol stars for endorsements would be way more effective, right?”
“Who knows? Maybe… that’s the difference between genius and us mortals.”
They exchanged glances, each seeing in the others’ eyes a bone-deep awe toward the unknown.
They didn’t dare speak carelessly.
After all, this was a project specially approved by Deputy Director Asumi, reportedly even endorsed by Director Nobuhiko Sakata.
They felt that young person named Hiroshi Nohara wasn’t playing by this industry’s rules at all.
He was creating rules in a way they completely couldn’t comprehend.
……
Executive Deputy Director’s Office, smoke-filled.
Toshihide Takada’s perpetually gloomy face was now even more overcast, as if dripping water.
He stared fixedly at the latest public opinion report on the desk, every positive entry about 《Super Change Change Change》 like red-hot steel needles stabbing his eyeballs.
Yasui Takashi and Ito Chōan, Tokyo Faction’s variety show aces, had long lost their initial arrogance and confidence.
Like defeated roosters, they slumped on the sofa, their faces filled with bewilderment and confusion after repeated slaps from reality.
“I don’t get it either.”
Confusion appeared on Yasui Takashi’s face: “What is he really up to? Spending so much, making such a huge spectacle, just to have a bunch of amateurs shout slogans on the street? What’s the point? Does he really think this childish ‘regional showdown’ game can shake our decades-old variety show empire?”
“Maybe… his goal isn’t to shake us at all.” Ito Chōan said complexly from beside him: “I keep feeling like we… got it wrong from the start.”
“What do you mean?” Yasui Takashi asked.
“I don’t know.” Ito Chōan shook his head: “I just feel like the trap he’s laid is too big, too deep. What we see… might just be the tip of the iceberg. His real purpose might not even be in variety shows themselves.”
“Then where?” Yasui Takashi’s voice carried irritation he himself hadn’t noticed.
“Perhaps just for promotion.” Ito Chōan pondered before offering an explanation he found somewhat forced: “After all, outside Kanto Region, other stations operate independently. Getting good promotional resources for our Tokyo TV programs there isn’t easy. By doing this, he’s forcibly creating enough buzz for his program in those places via a ‘curved path to victory.'”
This made the brow of Toshihide Takada at the head furrow deeper.
He knew this was a possibility, of course.
But his intuition told him things were never that simple.
That young person’s every move was filled with chilling, precise scheming.
This time, at such enormous cost, laying this earth-shattering trap—he was after far more than mere promotion.
“Forget it.”
After a long while, Toshihide Takada exhaled a long breath of turbid air, carrying a hero’s late fatigue and helplessness.
He waved his hand: “Too late for talk now. He’s gained momentum, and that old guy Sakata is protecting him like a biological son. We… can’t touch him for now.”
Still, looking at these two subordinates with broken fighting spirit, he consoled in a low voice:
“Lie low. This is our weak period. You two, focus on your programs, hold the fan base steady. Don’t provoke him anymore. Wait… wait for him to err!”
“Yes.” Yasui Takashi and Ito Chōan responded listlessly.
They knew they had lost this war.
At least short-term, with their two directors’ variety shows at merely around 20% ratings, all comeback chances were gone.
After all, even Kanto Stage’s hot 《Super Change Change Change Audition Version》 had reached 20% ratings.
How could they compete?
Toshihide Takada ignored these two fallen aces, pressing the internal telephone button.
“Get Iwata in here.”
Soon, a figure appeared ghost-like at the office doorway.
It was Masao Iwata.
He had lost his former arrogance and flamboyance, thinned down, his once ambition-filled eyes now showing only numbness and emptiness after reality’s crushing.
“Deputy Director… you wanted me…” His voice was hoarse, full of humility.
Toshihide Takada didn’t look at him, just tossed a file before him.
On it, in bold black font, was a tempting title—【New Year’s Eve Slot · A-Level Movie Proposal】.
“This is the project I negotiated.” Toshihide Takada’s voice was flat, emotionless: “A period action film. Budget, 300 million.”
“Boom—!”
The news struck Masao Iwata like thunder, unleashing massive waves in his heart!
300 million budget!
This… this was simply…
He stared blankly at the file, a faint ghost-fire-like glow reigniting for the first time in his empty eyes.
“Dep… Deputy Director… you mean…” He stammered in a near-dreamy tone.
“Television dramas, variety shows—we can’t beat him there for now.”
Toshihide Takada slowly stood, walked to him, reached out, and heavily patted his still-trembling shoulder, his voice a devilish whisper yet cruelly chilling:
“But movies… are another world.”
“No matter how capable that kid is, he can’t possibly make movies too, right?”
He looked at Masao Iwata, icy cold eyes flickering with heart-palpitating madness.
“Iwata, this is your last chance.”
“Use this movie to tell everyone—to that arrogant kid—that before the true art of the big screen, his petty tricks are utterly worthless!”
“Go.”
“Use box office to reclaim every bit of face we’ve lost, bit by bit.”
Masao Iwata stared at this man extending an olive branch again, his numb face stripped of expression, leaving only break-the-cauldrons-and-sink-the-boats resolve.
He knew he had no retreat.
He would no longer be a mere errand boy.
He would be the most crucial charge-leading… general in this Tokyo Faction desperate counterattack war.
“Rest assured, Deputy Director.”
He deeply bowed to Toshihide Takada, voice hoarse near sorrowful: “I absolutely will not disappoint you again.”
Toshihide Takada, seeing this, finally showed a satisfied demon-like smile: “Don’t thank me yet; I have another task for you.”
“Please say.” Masao Iwata nodded immediately.
“Male lead is set, including female lead; someone will contact you.”
Toshihide Takada said flatly, tone with absolute command: “Male lead’s acting fee is 100 million yen, female lead 80 million yen; the rest is for your filmmaking. Understand?”
Masao Iwata was slightly stunned, eyes flickering, but with no other choice, he bowed deeply:
“Yes!”
PS: Had some other matters today, so update is late. But will keep striving to update. Please give more recommendation votes and monthly tickets~
