Chapter 137: Omagari City Mayor Visits In Person! Ip Ideas For Akita Dogs! Hachiko Movie!
Akita Prefecture, Omagari City Hall.
This beige building, which could be considered a landmark in this small city, now appeared somewhat lazy under the afternoon sunlight.
Mayor’s office.
Mayor Kenji Ito, a man nearly fifty years old with impeccably combed hair and a politician’s mild smile always perfectly measured on his face, was rubbing his temples somewhat wearily.
In front of him was a spread-out administrative document from the Akita Prefectural Office, stamped with a fresh red seal.
The title on the document weighed on him like a heavy mountain, making it hard to breathe—【Guiding Opinions on Promoting the Development and Revitalization of Akita Prefecture’s Local Culture】.
“Sigh…” Kenji Ito let out a long breath, one filled with the deep helplessness unique to a local petty bureaucrat.
He knew this was another “grand blueprint” thought up on a whim by the young prefectural governor who had just taken office and was eager for achievements.
Revitalize the countryside? Redevelop local culture?
Easier said than done.
Where would the money come from? The people? The ideas?
Nowadays, young people sharpened their heads to squeeze into big cities like Tokyo and Osaka—who would want to stay in this backwater of rice fields and snow mountains?
“Mayor, Chairman Suzuki from the Agricultural Cooperative is here and says he has important matters to report to you.” The secretary knocked and entered, his voice respectful.
“Let him in.” Kenji Ito helplessly picked up his tea cup, took a sip, preparing to use the most official rhetoric to deal with this Agricultural Association President who was also a local heavyweight.
However, when Kentaro Suzuki, the fat man who usually stuck out his beer belly and whose face was full of shrewd scheming, rushed in almost at a trot with a fanatic excitement on his face, Kenji Ito’s prepared official speech instantly stuck in his throat.
Because this guy’s behavior of barging straight into his office was too rude.
But thinking about it, whatever.
After all, Kentaro Suzuki was the major supporter who got those farmers to vote for him during his election—he couldn’t afford to offend him.
So Kenji Ito helplessly said, “Chairman Suzuki, why are you so excited this early in the morning? What’s going on?”
“Mayor! Mayor! Huge good news! Huge good news!”
Kentaro Suzuki even forgot politeness, his chubby face flushed red from extreme excitement: “Look! Quick, look! The Nohara family! That Nohara family from West Omagari Village—their son who is a big shot at Tokyo Television Station, Hiroshi Nohara, has come back!”
“Hiroshi Nohara?” Kenji Ito’s brows furrowed imperceptibly.
He had some impression of this name.
Lately, it had been all over the newspapers and TV almost every day.
That young person who created a ratings myth, hailed as a “monster,” “genius,” “God of Variety Shows”—it seemed… his name was this.
“He… is from our Omagari City?” A trace of surprise that even he himself hadn’t noticed crept into Kenji Ito’s voice.
“Of course!” Kentaro Suzuki suddenly puffed out his chest, his posture as if Hiroshi Nohara weren’t someone else’s son but a prodigy he had personally raised: “And! You don’t know! Minister Nohara’s return this time is a true triumphant homecoming! He and his elder brother are preparing to make a big splash in our Omagari City, starting that… that ‘Nohara Agricultural Corporation’! They want a loan of three billion right off the bat! Three billion! And large-scale land acquisition! He says he’s going to turn Omagari City’s rice into the top brand in all of Neon!”
This embellished report was like a bolt of lightning cleaving through chaos, instantly illuminating Kenji Ito’s brain, which had been frazzled by the “agricultural revitalization” dilemma!
Hiroshi Nohara!
That man hailed as having a “monster mind”!
That man who changed the social vibe of all Neon with creativity!
If… if they could invite him to be their consultant?
Once this idea took root, it sprouted and grew wildly in his heart like a seed planted in fertile soil!
“Chairman Suzuki!” Kenji Ito suddenly stood up, his face, usually wearing a mild smile, now filled with do-or-die resolve: “Get the car ready! Right now! Immediately! I… I want to personally visit Minister Nohara!”
He paused, then as if remembering something, issued an unquestionable order to the secretary beside him, who was already stunned by this sudden turn:
“Notify them! Tell all the section chiefs from the Publicity Department, Agriculture Department, and Planning Department to drop everything! Come with me! This is Omagari City’s most important meeting for the next decade!”
……
“Ring ring—”
In the Nohara Family Home old house, that old black telephone rang shrilly again.
Misae, who was in the kitchen learning to make tamagoyaki from her future mother-in-law and was closest, wiped her hands and trotted over to pick up the handset.
“Hello? Hello, this is the Nohara family home.”
“Oh! Is this the younger brother’s wife at Minister Nohara’s house?” Kentaro Suzuki’s voice, full of fawning and anxiety, came from the other end: “Um… younger brother’s wife, this is Kentaro Suzuki from the Agricultural Cooperative! Extremely urgent! Extremely urgent! Quick! Have Minister Nohara pick up the phone!”
“Eh?” Misae was stunned.
“Hurry! Our mayor! Mayor Kenji Ito! He… he’s bringing a bunch of city government leaders and they’re on their way to your house! He says… he wants to personally call on Minister Nohara! To hear his guiding opinions on Omagari City’s future development!”
“Boom—!”
The mayor… coming to the house?!
Misae felt her little head explode as if hit by a real atomic bomb!
The handset slipped from her hand with a clatter, and her cute face, usually full of innocence, now showed unmasked shock and daze.
“What’s wrong? Misae?”
Tsuru Nohara, who was in the living room excitedly discussing with her two sons and future eldest daughter-in-law when to set the wedding date, saw her dazed look and immediately asked with concern.
“The m-mayor… is c-coming to our house!” Misae’s voice trembled uncontrollably.
She was just a small-town girl after all.
What experience did she have?
“……”
The entire room instantly fell into a weird, pin-drop silence.
“What?!”
Tsuru Nohara’s face was now filled with incredulous horror.
“Mayor?! Which mayor?!” Hiroshi Nohara and Ikuna stood frozen like weathered statues.
In the minds of these ordinary folks, “mayor” was like “Emperor” or “Prime Minister”—legends only seen on TV, impossibly distant.
“Which other mayor?!”
In this silence full of shock and absurdity, Ginnosuke Nohara suddenly jumped up from the tatami, his previously lecherous old face now beaming with near-maniacal ecstasy!
“It must be that Kenji Ito! Omagari City Mayor! The guy just elected last year! I told you, I saw it coming! That guy would come begging our Hiroshi one day! Hahahaha!”
Like a lion suppressed for half a lifetime, he paced excitedly in the small Japanese-style room.
“Hey! You old lech! What are you grinning about?!”
Tsuru Nohara finally regained a shred of reason from the heart-stopping shock.
Like a thoroughly enraged lioness, she grabbed her husband’s ear, her voice full of a housewife’s instinctive panic at the highest courtesy: “Hurry! Clean up! Wipe the whole house inside and out! Not a speck of dust! And! Go to the best tea shop in town and buy the most expensive jade dew tea! Then to the sweets shop, get their best Japanese sweets! Go now!”
“Ow! Ow! Tsuru! It hurts! I was wrong! I’m going!” Ginnosuke Nohara’s ecstasy was instantly crushed by his wife’s murderous “lion’s roar from the east of the river”; clutching his ear, he scrambled out the door.
But he didn’t go straight where he should.
His shifty little eyes seemed to think of something; he turned a corner and rushed straight into Village Chief Yamada’s house next door.
“Old Yamada! Old Yamada! Quick! Don’t sleep! Big news!”
He yanked the napping village chief up from the tatami.
“Huh?” Village Chief Yamada, up late last night, looked at his old friend Ginnosuke Nohara in confusion, groggily asking: “What’s up? Slow down, can I nap a bit first…”
But Ginnosuke Nohara’s voice was full of smugness: “The mayor! Omagari City mayor is coming to our house! This concerns the face of our entire West Omagari Village! Can’t have any slip-ups! Quick, come help clean my house! This is when we need you! The mayor’s coming to my house!”
Village Chief Yamada’s groggy look instantly snapped awake: “Wait?” His voice held surprise: “Omagari mayor… is coming to your house!?”
……
Hiroshi Nohara helplessly watched his family enter “full alert” over one mayor’s arrival, a wry smile flashing in his eyes.
He knew that in Neon, with its unique administrative divisions, a “city” was often just like a larger town in Huaxia.
A mayor was at best a town chief-level cadre.
As for the higher prefectural governor, it sounded impressive but was really just like a county or district head.
In Tokyo, forget a mayor—even a prefectural governor wouldn’t cut it.
But this was Akita, his hometown.
To these simple villagers, the mayor was the biggest official they could touch, like the sky.
“Sigh.” Hiroshi Nohara let out a long breath.
He knew he couldn’t disappoint this respect from his hometown.
More importantly, he knew better than anyone that in this society of human relations, building ties with local “ground snakes” was far more practical and reliable than knowing a few so-called “important people” in Tokyo.
A solid interest community built by local government, Agricultural Cooperative, bank, and his “external capital” would be his firmest guarantee for standing firm on this land in the future.
……
Half an hour later, as the black sedans with government plates slowly entered West Omagari Village, Kenji Ito and the city leaders inside all simultaneously gasped.
The scene before them far exceeded their imaginations.
That potholed rural dirt road was now spotless, even damp as if freshly washed.
On both sides stood villagers who had rushed over upon hearing the news, all in their most decent clothes, faces beaming with simple, enthusiastic smiles.
At the road’s end, in front of the Nohara Family Home old house, Village Chief Yamada led several village cadres standing straight as spears, their solemnity as if awaiting not a mayor’s inspection but the Emperor’s review.
“This… this turnout is too big, isn’t it?” A Publicity Department section chief said dryly, his usually confident face now blank.
This was a bit exaggerated.
Kenji Ito said nothing.
He just looked at the gathering crowd outside the window and nodded in satisfaction; after all, as the top city official, seeing so many welcoming him felt pretty good.
His vanity was quite pleased.
The car door opened.
Kenji Ito took a deep breath, put on his warmest, most sincere smile, and strode toward the young man already waiting calmly at the courtyard doorway.
“Minister Nohara, I’ve heard so much about you. Meeting you today, you truly are… a dragon among men!”
He reached out first, his posture no longer a superior inspecting a subordinate, but one of respectful equality.
Hiroshi Nohara smiled, reached out, gripped firmly, then bowed low in one fluid motion: “Mayor Ito, you’re too kind. Welcome to our humble home—what an honor!”
The two figures, old and young, clasped hands firmly under gazes full of awe and envy.
Then the group marched grandly into the Nohara Family Home old house.
The already cramped living room was instantly packed with these big shots usually only seen on TV.
“Mayor! Leaders! Please sit! Please sit!”
Tsuru Nohara had changed into a proper kimono, flitting through the crowd like the most elegant butterfly, her usually gentle smiling face now flushed with moving red from this sudden grand occasion.
She personally brewed top jade dew tea for each visiting leader and carefully placed the exquisitely made Japanese sweets in the center of the table.
Her movements flowed elegantly and appropriately, without the cramped panic of small folk meeting big officials, exuding instead the poise and grace of a great family matriarch.
Misae and Ikuna followed her like two obedient apprentices, one refilling water, the other passing sweets.
Their youthful pretty faces, though tense from the big occasion, showed innate gentleness and propriety that made everyone nod inwardly.
Hiroshi Nohara stood silently like a guardian god beside his father, his sturdy build and crisp suit giving off an impressive “president” aura.
Only Ginnosuke Nohara, the family patriarch, sat to the side with his little belly stuck out; before these usually lofty city leaders, his eyes brimmed with smug pride.
Ginnosuke Nohara really got more excited the more people there were, without a hint of fear!
“Ahem!” He cleared his throat, couldn’t hold back, and stopped before the younger Publicity Department section chief, pontificating with experienced-person tone: “Your tie color is too dark, makes you look listless. Next time, learn from our Hiroshi—pick a brighter one, looks better on TV!”
The Publicity Department section chief was stunned by this sudden advice, then showed an awkward wry smile.
The room instantly fell into black humor-tinged silence.
Others’ eyes held smiles.
But they didn’t dare laugh out loud.
After all, the mayor was there; colleagues needed face.
“You old lech! Spouting nonsense!” Tsuru Nohara glared fiercely, her warning glare enough to vaporize any further “pointing at the world” notions.
“Hahahaha!”
Kenji Ito burst into hearty laughter, praising Ginnosuke Nohara: “Old timer, you’re truly… a man of character! No wonder you raised a prodigy like Hiroshi-kun, so brilliant! Our Omagari City has great mountains and waters—talent it produces is different!”
This was political wisdom in flattery.
It quickly dissolved the awkwardness invisibly and filled Ginnosuke Nohara’s vanity-filled heart with immense satisfaction.
“Yes! Yes!” He puffed out his chest fiercely, so proud, so satisfied, so vain!
Especially seeing the envious gazes from nearby villagers and relatives—he was thrilled inside!
But after pleasantries, the mood finally turned serious.
Kenji Ito picked up his tea cup, sipped lightly, his eyes sweeping over Hiroshi Nohara with perfectly measured appreciation.
“President Nohara.” His address was officially solemn: “I just heard from Chairman Suzuki that your ‘Nohara Agricultural Corporation’ plans to make a big splash in our Omagari City. For a young person like you, willing to give up city comforts to return home and devote to agriculture, I represent the city government in expressing our sincerest respect and thanks!”
He paused, his voice hopeful: “You are a role model for all young people in Omagari City! The most vivid and successful example of our ‘rural revitalization’ plan!”
This high praise was like a heavy laurel crown publicly placed on Hiroshi Nohara’s head.
His dark face flushed pig-liver red; he stood quickly, bowed deeply to the mayor, his voice full of honest sincerity: “Mayor, you’re… overpraising me. I… I’m just a farmer, not as great as you say. I just… listened to my younger brother.”
This plain truth drew kind laughter from everyone present.
Kenji Ito laughed too.
He knew the groundwork was laid.
Time to bring out the real star.
He turned, casting a solemn gaze at the young man who had calmly sipped tea throughout, as if none of this concerned him.
“Minister Hiroshi.” His voice held humble deference: “You are Omagari City’s phoenix that flew far. Your great achievements in Tokyo bring glory even to us hometown folk.”
Kenji Ito emphasized “hometown.”
But his tone now carried deep anxiety: “But as you see, Omagari City and all Akita Prefecture face huge dilemmas. Youth outflow, traditional industries declining, economic development far behind coastal metropolises.”
“Lately, the Prefectural Office has been pressuring us to come up with practical plans to revitalize the local economy, raise farmer income, develop… innovative industries with Akita Prefecture characteristics.”
He spoke, then sighed long, as if exhaling the weight of an era’s helplessness.
“To be honest, our city hall folks have nearly turned our hair white over this. So today, we boldly visit to… hear from you, the genius with the ‘monster mind,’ any… brilliant ideas for our hometown’s future?”
These heartfelt words hushed the room instantly.
All eyes, like iron filings to a magnet, focused on the young man.
They all valued it highly.
“Brilliant ideas for hometown revitalization?”
Hiroshi Nohara set down his tea cup.
He didn’t answer immediately, just rhythmically tapped his knuckles lightly on the smooth blue-and-white porcelain cup wall.
“Tap, tap, tap…”
The crisp sounds beat like drums on everyone’s hearts, pushing expectant tension to the max.
He was thinking.
Past-life memories flashed like fast-forwarded film reels in his mind.
Bubble economy collapse, economic crisis arrival, Neon government erecting trade barriers for self-rescue, heavily subsidizing domestic agriculture regardless of cost.
The Agricultural Cooperative, this seemingly minor group, would grow over decades into a political monster controlling millions of votes, swaying the political landscape.
And Akita Prefecture…
A glint flashed in Hiroshi Nohara’s eyes.
He recalled how in his past world’s economic map, Akita Prefecture, an insignificant name, gained global fame through a unique cultural symbol.
—Akita Dog!
That breed famed for “loyalty,” revered by Neon as “national dog,” even once a “national gift” to foreign leaders—a legendary creature.
But in this parallel world…
Casually, he glanced out the window at a plain tawny Shiba Inu ambling with wagging tail on the rustic dirt path.
He knew in this world, the Akita Dog was still an undiscovered gem gathering dust.
“Mayor Ito.”
With that, he spoke slowly, his calm voice carrying confidence that turned the room’s heads: “You said earlier to develop innovative industries with Akita Prefecture characteristics. I do have one somewhat immature idea.”
“Oh?!” Kenji Ito’s eyes lit up; he straightened instinctively.
“What does our Akita Prefecture have?” Hiroshi Nohara asked instead.
“We… have rice?” an Agriculture Department section chief ventured.
“We have sake?” another Publicity Department section chief added.
“We… what else?” Kentaro Suzuki scratched his chubby head, even smiling bitterly himself.
Akita Prefecture was just an ordinary one among Neon’s 42 prefectures.
Hiroshi Nohara listened quietly, then shook his head: “You’re all right, but not the core.”
He stood, walked to the paper sliding door overlooking the courtyard, eyes landing on the still-strolling tawny Shiba Inu.
“Akita Prefecture’s truly unique treasure, embodying our land’s spirit, has always been right beside us.”
He turned amid countless puzzled gazes, slowly uttering words that stunned everyone.
“Akita Dog.”
“……”
The room fell into weird pin-drop silence.
Everyone was stunned.
They stared at the young man casually saying “Akita Dog,” faces full of incredulous absurdity.
Dog?
Their half-month brain-racking “rural revitalization” plan’s answer was… dog?
“M-Minister Nohara…” Disappointment he hadn’t noticed crept into Kenji Ito’s voice: “You’re… joking, right? Akita Dogs are our local specialty, but… they’re just dogs. Selling dogs can’t… revitalize a city’s economy?”
“Who said we’re just selling dogs?”
Hiroshi Nohara smiled, his smile carrying absolute confidence of dimensional reduction strike.
He went to the whiteboard, picked up the pen, and fluidly drew a grand commercial blueprint that upended everyone’s cognition.
“We’re not selling dogs. We’re building a new cultural IP centered on ‘Akita Dog’.”
“IP?” The modern term left everyone exchanging glances.
“Yes, IP.”
Hiroshi Nohara nodded; his not-loud voice hammered every heart like a heavy mallet.
“Step one, tell stories.”
“We’ll establish an ‘Akita Dog Culture Research Society’ to collect, organize, package all legendary stories about Akita Dogs. I happen to have the story of ‘Hachiko,’ who waited ten years at Shibuya Station for his owner. We’ll make it the core, most moving spiritual kernel of this IP—loyalty.”
“Step two, build brand.”
“We’ll partner with the Agricultural Cooperative for a standardized, modern ‘Akita Dog Breeding Base.’ Every Akita Dog leaving us gets a pedigree certificate and unique ID chip. ‘Omagari City produced’ will become synonymous with the noblest, purest in the Akita Dog category.”
“Step three, do crossovers.”
“Mayor Ito, you said the Prefectural Office wants rural culture revitalization. Let’s bundle ‘Akita Dog’ with all our local culture!”
His voice rose sharply, full of undeniable power!
“We can launch Akita Dog-themed sake, Akita Dog-shaped Japanese sweets, even collaborate with Akita Prefecture’s famous tourist spot ‘Shirakami Sanchi National Park’ for a grand annual ‘Akita Dog Snow Festival’ in winter! Draw Akita Dog fans worldwide to pilgrimage to our Omagari City!”
“Step four, the most crucial.”
He paused amid gazes already shocked beyond measure by his wild ideas, then slowly dropped the ultimate trump card to make the revelry spiral out of control.
“I’ll personally direct a movie based on the ‘Hachiko’ story, one to move all Neon, even… the whole world.”
“Boom—!”
Movie!
The word exploded like a real hydrogen bomb in everyone’s minds!
Kenji Ito felt his brain turned to mush by a high-speed blender!
He stared dazedly at this young man who, laughing casually, laid a heaven-shaking plan to change Akita Prefecture’s fate—his world-weary heart went blank!
Kenji Ito finally understood.
This young man wasn’t suggesting.
He was creating a world!
A commercial empire with “Akita Dog” as totem, integrating agriculture, tourism, cultural creation, film and television—unprecedented and new!
“M-Minister Nohara…”
Kenji Ito’s voice grew hoarse from shock, the address instinctively most reverent.
He stood abruptly amid surprised gazes, bowing deeply to Hiroshi Nohara.
A standard ninety-degree bow!
“I don’t get it, but it sounds amazing!”
“Especially knowing you’ll use our Akita Prefecture, our Omagari City’s Akita Dogs to shoot a movie promoting Akita Prefecture…”
“So Omagari City’s future… we entrust to you!”
A celebrity shooting a movie.
That would be huge for local tourism and promotion!
As long as from famous director Hiroshi Nohara, who came from their Akita Prefecture, the work promotes Akita Prefecture and Omagari City.
Then he, Omagari City Mayor.
Wouldn’t have achievements promoting his hometown?
Know this was him, Kenji Ito, personally pushing against opposition, visiting Hiroshi Nohara’s old home for cordial talks, requesting this hometown promo movie.
No matter what, he’d get credit!
Truly considering the hometown…
Good civil servant!
The kind deserving promotion!
Thinking this, Kenji Ito, bowed before Hiroshi Nohara, couldn’t help his lowered face curving into a smug smile.
What was a bow?
Early this year, with excessive youth outflow in Omagari City, at the city hall press conference before all those reporters and TV stations, he could humbly bow in apology.
Now?
Piece of cake~
