Chapter 247: Storm! Storm! Storm! The Storm No One Expected Is Now Brewing!
At precisely 9 PM, just past the halfway point of the first episode rerun of “Taste of Neon,” a thunderous cheer suddenly erupted in the data monitoring room of Kanto TV.
A technical staff member, holding a freshly printed ratings report, ran madly towards the meeting room, the paper rustling in the wind as he ran.
“It broke! It’s a record breaker!”
The technical staff member pushed open the meeting room door, his voice trembling with excitement, “The live viewership across Japan has surged to 24%! Kansai also broke 18%, and Hokkaido reached 15% – this is the highest rating for a documentary in a decade!”
Everyone discussing the follow-up promotion froze instantly. Kiyoto Suzuki’s cane “thudded” onto the floor. He quickly walked over, took the report, and didn’t even bother to adjust his reading glasses that had slipped to the tip of his nose.
Upon seeing the glaring number “24.1%,” the gray-haired Executive Deputy Station Manager’s eyes suddenly welled up, and his voice choked, “Good… good! Kanto TV has finally produced another program that can make all of Japan remember!”
Ryuji Yamada snatched the report, his fingers repeatedly rubbing the numbers as if to confirm it wasn’t an illusion, “24%! That’s 5 points higher than the peak rating of ‘Kanto Fishery Song’! Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop just called, saying reporters are crowding their doorway, and even NHK has gone to interview them!”
Hiroshi Nohara stood by the window, holding the pager Misae had just sent him – “Hiroshi-kun! The whole manga club is cheering! We’ve decided to go eat sashimi in Chiba tomorrow!”
He looked out at the Tokyo nightscape, the Tokyo Tower in the distance lit with warm yellow lights. On the street below, some young people were even cheering with signs.
Asumi patted Hiroshi’s shoulder, his tone full of admiration, “Hiroshi-kun, you’ve created another miracle. Who would have thought that a documentary without stars or gimmicks could drive all of Japan crazy?”
Hiroshi turned and smiled, his eyes still calm, “I didn’t create the miracle; it was the stories of ordinary people that moved everyone. Mr. Nomizu’s persistence, Mr. Sato’s dedication, and the warmth of the Takahashi family – these are all real lives, and the audience can feel the warmth within them.”
As he spoke, Yuichi Matsui, carrying a camera, rushed in, his face still streaked with sea salt – he had just rushed back from Masayasu Nomizu’s fish shop.
“Hiroshi-kun! You all must see this!” He connected the camera to the television. On the screen, Masayasu Nomizu was surrounded by reporters, holding the tuna can Hiroshi had given him earlier, and said excitedly, “To let more people know about the lives of fishermen, I’m so happy! Starting tomorrow, I’ll set aside more fresh tuna every day so everyone can taste the flavor of the sea!”
Nanako Suzuki, clutching her notebook, was rapidly taking notes, “Chiba Prefectural Government just sent a message: tomorrow, a ‘Taste of Neon’ special bus route will be opened, specifically to take tourists to Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop. In Gunma Prefecture, the old streets already have travel agencies starting to pre-sell ‘Soba Noodle Culture Tours,’ and the booking phones are almost overwhelmed!”
Toshihide Takada pushed up his glasses, a rare genuine smile appearing on his lips, “Marui Soy Sauce just contacted me, saying they want to add fifty million in sponsorship and also want to sell ‘Taste of Neon’ limited soy sauce nationwide. News also came from Shueisha: the manga sales of ‘Late-night Diner’ have tripled tonight, and they want you to launch a comic adaptation of ‘Taste of Neon’ while the iron is hot!”
The atmosphere in the meeting room grew increasingly lively. Everyone gathered around the report, discussing future plans one after another. Even the usually silent Shigeru Saito spoke up, “Next time we film Kyoto’s Japanese sweets shops, I want to try using soft lighting to highlight the texture of the sugar coating; it should look much better.”
Hiroshi looked at the lively scene before him and suddenly remembered the day he transmigrated – he had lingered at the entrance of Tokyo TV with his resume, not even confident about a fourth-class director position.
And now, he not only had his own production department but had also created a program that electrified all of Japan.
He took out his mobile phone and dialed Misae’s number. The girl’s excited voice immediately came through the handset, “Hiroshi-kun! Did you hear? The ratings broke 24%! Can we really go eat sashimi tomorrow?”
“Of course, we can,” Hiroshi replied gently, “I’ll have Mr. Matsui drive tomorrow, and we’ll all go together.”
After hanging up, Hiroshi turned to everyone and said, “You’ve all worked hard. Get some good rest tonight, as there’s a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
His gaze swept over the smiles on everyone’s faces, and he knew in his heart that this victory was just the beginning – he wanted to film more heartwarming stories and let more people see the beauty in ordinary lives.
…
At the same time, in the monitoring meeting room of Tokyo City Television, it was as if they were enveloped in the dead of winter.
The head of the technical department, holding the freshly printed ratings report, walked shakily to Kazuo Takahashi and said in a voice as small as a mosquito’s buzz, “V-Vice Director Takahashi, the final ratings are out… our station got 1.9%, Kanto TV got 24.1%…”
“Slap!” Kazuo Takahashi slammed the table violently. The coffee cup was knocked over, and the brown liquid flowed down the edge of the table, soaking the “1.9%” on the report.
He snatched the report, his eyes fixed on the number, his fingers turning white from exertion, “1.9%? How is that possible! What about Mr. Kamiki’s fan support? What about Kirin Group’s promotion? Did you feed it to the dogs?”
Shunsuke Kamiki abruptly stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor.
He snatched the report and, upon seeing the number “24.1%,” his face turned instantly pale, then flushed a dark red.
“Impossible! This must be fake!” He tore the report to shreds, scattering paper scraps all over the floor, “How could a record-breaking documentary filmed by Hiroshi Nohara possibly have such high ratings? Kanto TV must have faked it!”
“Fake?” Takashi Sato, sitting in a corner, finally couldn’t help but speak, his tone full of sarcasm, “The entire nation is discussing ‘Taste of Neon,’ even NHK reported on it. How could it be faked? Look at the comments online, everyone says your variety show is ridiculously fake, you need ten takes to cut a piece of sushi, and you still have the nerve to criticize others?”
“Shut up!”
Shunsuke Kamiki turned and glared at Takashi Sato, his eyes full of anger, “If you guys hadn’t filmed so poorly, how could my show have lost? You were a loser at Kanto TV before, and you’re still a waste at City TV!”
Jun Yamada quickly stood up to mediate, “Shunsuke-san, Sato-san, this isn’t the time to argue. We need to find a way to salvage the situation, otherwise, Mayor Tanaka won’t be able to account for it…”
“Salvage the situation? How do we salvage it?” The director of the City TV planning department slumped in his chair, his voice full of despair, “A 24% rating, how can we catch up? The whole country is watching ‘Taste of Neon’ right now, who would watch our variety show?”
“It’s all your fault!”
Nanako Suzuki, a director at City TV, suddenly pointed at Kazuo Takahashi, her eyes red, “If we hadn’t scheduled our broadcast against Kanto TV, our ratings wouldn’t be this abysmal! You insisted on going against Hiroshi Nohara to please Mayor Tanaka, and now look, you’ve disgraced City TV!”
“Blame me?”
Kazuo Takahashi sneered, his eyes full of malice, “If Shunsuke Kamiki couldn’t even make sushi properly, if you guys couldn’t produce decent content, would we have lost? Hiroshi Nohara filmed a documentary using television drama techniques, why couldn’t you think of that? You’re all just eating rice!”
“How dare you talk about us?” Shunsuke Kamiki stepped forward, pointing at Kazuo Takahashi’s nose, “You were the one who said you’d give me my own variety show if I cooperated, and now? Such terrible ratings, and you still have the nerve to blame me? I think you’re just a useless Deputy Station Manager!”
“You dare insult me?” Kazuo Takahashi trembled with anger and raised his hand to strike Shunsuke Kamiki, but was held back by Jun Yamada.
“Stop fighting!”
Jun Yamada shouted, his voice full of exhaustion, “What’s the use of fighting now? Mayor Tanaka gave us three days. If we can’t come up with a solution, we’ll all be out!”
The meeting room fell silent instantly, with only the heavy breathing of the attendees audible. Every face was etched with resentment, despair, and unwillingness – they had expected to easily defeat the documentary with Shunsuke Kamiki’s popularity, but they had lost so miserably, with no room for recovery.
Shunsuke Kamiki slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.
He remembered what he had said at the press conference that day – “I will let Hiroshi Nohara taste the bitterness of failure.” Now, it seemed like a colossal joke.
He took out his phone, found the chat history with Toru Watanabe, and his fingers trembled as he typed, “Immediately release the ‘material’ on Masayasu Nomizu’s fish shop. Use whatever means necessary, but you must ruin ‘Taste of Neon’!”
Kazuo Takahashi looked at the scattered paper scraps and the venomous eyes of the attendees, and a bad premonition suddenly struck him.
He knew that this failure would not only cost him Mikami Tanaka’s trust but might even cost him his position as Deputy Station Manager.
He took out his pager and quickly sent a message to Mikami Tanaka, “Mayor Tanaka, we will present a solution as soon as possible and will not disappoint you.”
But in his heart, he knew this was self-deception – facing a 24% ratings gap, facing the nationwide recognition of “Taste of Neon,” they had no chance of a comeback.
…
That night at 10 PM, the ratings data for “Taste of Neon” spread like wings throughout all the television stations in Japan.
In the production department meeting room of Yomiuri TV Osaka, Department Head Kiyoshi Matsumoto held the ratings report, his fingers repeatedly rubbing the “24.1%” number, his eyes full of shock.
“24%…” he sighed, his tone full of admiration, “This kid Hiroshi Nohara has truly created a miracle. Who would have thought a humanistic documentary could achieve such high ratings?”
Director Keisuke Yamada, sitting beside him, nodded, his tone full of agreement, “I watched the rerun just now, and I must say, Hiroshi Nohara’s filming techniques are incredible. He filmed the documentary with the pacing of a TV drama, with build-up, climax, and emotional resonance. Look at the shot of Masayasu Nomizu pulling in the nets; it not only shows the fishermen’s hard work but also highlights his reverence for the sea. We need to learn from such delicate emotional expression.”
“Exactly.”
Director Takashi Sato added, “In the past, when we filmed food programs, we only focused on the production process, neglecting the people behind it. Hiroshi Nohara is different; he puts people first, and food is just a medium. This ‘people-oriented’ filming philosophy is the key to ‘Taste of Neon’s’ success.”
Kiyoshi Matsumoto put down the report, his eyes firm, “We will hold a department meeting tomorrow and have everyone watch the finished film of ‘Taste of Neon.’ We need to learn from Hiroshi Nohara’s filming techniques and re-polish the proposal for ‘Osaka Food Stories,’ focusing on the artisans behind okonomiyaki and takoyaki, and capturing their stories and emotions.”
…
In the meeting room of Nagoya Chubu-Nippon Broadcasting, the atmosphere was also exceptionally lively.
The Station Manager held the ratings report and said to the directors, “Hiroshi Nohara has taught us a lesson! We always thought documentaries weren’t popular, but ‘Taste of Neon’ proved with its 24% rating that as long as the content is good, the audience will buy it. What we need to do next is study the narrative structure of ‘Taste of Neon’ and film a food documentary that belongs to Nagoya.”
“I think we can start with Nagoya’s unagi rice,”
A young director said excitedly, “I know of an unagi rice shop that’s been open for fifty years. The owner started learning to grill eels from his father at fifteen, and now his son doesn’t want to inherit the business, leading to frequent arguments between father and son. This story has a lot of tension, just like the story of Kosuke Sato and his son in ‘Taste of Neon.'”
The Station Manager nodded, “Good! Let’s start filming at this unagi rice shop. You go communicate with the owner tomorrow. Make sure to film their true story, no staged scenes, no deliberate melodrama. Just like ‘Taste of Neon,’ move the audience with details.”
…
In the meeting room of Hokkaido Broadcasting in Sapporo, the directors were also in heated discussion.
“The background music in ‘Taste of Neon’ is amazing!”
One director said, “The sound of waves and the piano piece are combined perfectly; it doesn’t steal the show but effectively sets the atmosphere. When we film Hokkaido’s seafood documentary, we can also use local traditional instruments, like the shamisen, combined with the sound of waves, to highlight Hokkaido’s unique characteristics.”
“And the cinematic language!”
Another director added, “Hiroshi Nohara used side lighting to film Mr. Nomizu’s hands, highlighting the texture of his calluses, which was very story-like. When we film fishermen catching salmon, we can use this technique too, to emphasize the scars on their hands and show their hardship.”
All the TV stations in Japan were shocked by the success of “Taste of Neon.” They no longer looked down on documentaries but began to seriously study Hiroshi Nohara’s filming techniques – from narrative structure to cinematic language, from music selection to character portrayal, every detail was meticulously analyzed.
Many TV stations even established dedicated research groups, cutting the finished film of “Taste of Neon” into segments and analyzing them frame by frame, hoping to learn from the experience and produce their own excellent works.
And all of this was within Hiroshi Nohara’s expectations.
He knew that the success of “Taste of Neon” would not only drive the development of documentaries but also encourage more creators to focus on the stories of ordinary people, making the Japanese film and television industry warmer.
…
The next morning, as soon as Hiroshi Nohara arrived at Kanto TV, he was intercepted at the entrance by Tadashi Hattori.
This Publicity Minister of Tokyo Metropolis had come specifically for this purpose.
He held a thick file in his hand and a smile on his face, “Hiroshi-kun, congratulations! The success of ‘Taste of Neon’ has exceeded everyone’s expectations. Governor Koike has specifically asked me to discuss with you the possibility of making ‘Taste of Neon’ a cultural symbol of Tokyo Metropolis and promoting it nationwide, even overseas.”
Hiroshi took the file and quickly flipped through a few pages. It detailed the promotion plan – including broadcasting “Taste of Neon” in primary and secondary schools nationwide as material for local cultural education; playing trailers for “Taste of Neon” at Tokyo’s international airports to attract foreign tourists; and planning to translate “Taste of Neon” into multiple languages to participate in international documentary festivals.
“No problem.”
Hiroshi nodded, his tone full of agreement, “It’s a good thing to let more people understand Japan’s food culture and the stories of ordinary people. However, I hope the promotion process won’t be overly commercialized and won’t damage the film’s authenticity.”
“Don’t worry!” Tadashi Hattori said with a smile, “Governor Koike specifically instructed that everything should be based on the quality of the film. Also, the governors of Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures have contacted me, wanting to collaborate with you to film their local specialty foods. What do you think?”
Hiroshi thought for a moment and said, “I can. However, I want to finish filming Kyoto’s Japanese sweets shops first. Kyoto’s Japanese sweets have many traditional crafts, such as the production of ‘Nama Yatsuhashi,’ which requires meticulous hand skills, and the shop owners all have their own stories worth recording.”
Tadashi Hattori nodded, “Good! I will communicate with the governors of the three prefectures and collaborate after you finish the Kyoto part. By the way, Mr. Yoshihiro Shimazu contacted me yesterday. He said he wants to leverage the popularity of ‘Taste of Neon’ to hold a ‘Food Culture Festival’ in Chiba, inviting Masayasu Nomizu, Kosuke Sato, and others to participate. Would you be willing to serve as a consultant for the festival?”
“Of course, I’m willing,” Hiroshi said with a smile, “It’s great to be able to draw more attention to traditional crafts and support the careers of ordinary people.”
After seeing Tadashi Hattori off, Hiroshi entered the meeting room and found everyone already there, with the follow-up filming plan for “Taste of Neon” laid out on the table.
Yuichi Matsui said excitedly, “Hiroshi-kun, Mr. Nomizu just called and said he wants to collaborate with us to open a ‘Taste of Neon’ themed fish shop, selling fresh tuna and limited edition soy sauce. What do you think?”
“We can,”
Hiroshi nodded, “but be mindful not to over-exploit the ‘Taste of Neon’ IP. We must ensure the freshness and quality of the ingredients and not betray the audience’s trust.”
Nanako Suzuki continued, “Shueisha’s editor just contacted me, wanting you to write a manga adaptation of ‘Taste of Neon,’ focusing on the stories of Mr. Nomizu, Mr. Sato, and others. Do you have time?”
Hiroshi thought for a moment and said, “I can find time to write it, but I’ll need the manga club’s help. Misae and the others helped me color ‘Doraemon
“That’s great!” Sakurako Honda said with a smile, “Misae-chan was complaining to me yesterday that she wanted to participate in the production of ‘Taste of Neon’, she’ll definitely be very happy now.”
The meeting lasted all morning, and everyone discussed and finalized the follow-up filming plan for “Taste of Neon”: first film the Japanese sweet shops in Kyoto, then the characteristic gourmet food in Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures; simultaneously, launch a manga and merchandise of the same name as “Taste of Neon,” such as “Taste of Neon Limited” soy sauce, tuna cans, and so on; they also plan to hold a “Taste of Neon” offline exhibition in Tokyo, displaying props and photos from the filming, allowing the audience to understand the production process of the film more deeply.
During his lunch break, Hiroshi received a call from Misae.
The girl’s excited voice came from the handset: “Hiroshi-kun! Everyone in our manga club is ready, and we’re going to Chiba tomorrow to eat sashimi! Mr. Matsui said he’d drive to pick us up, right?”
“Yes.”
Hiroshi smiled and said, “I’ll wait for you at the entrance of the manga club tomorrow morning at 9 AM. Oh, and the Asahi Shimbun editors really liked the illustrations you drew of Kumamon and soba noodles. They want to use them for the cover of the *Taste of Neon* manga. Would you be willing?”
“I’m willing! I’m so willing!” Misae’s voice was full of excitement. “I’ll go revise the illustrations right now and guarantee the editor will be satisfied!”
After hanging up the phone, Hiroshi looked at the sunlight outside the window, his heart filled with warmth.
He knew that the success of “Taste of Neon” was not the end, but the beginning—he wanted to continue filming, bringing the stories of more ordinary people to the audience, and letting more people feel the beauty and warmth in life.
And this is the meaning of his transmigration to this world: to use his talent to create content with warmth, illuminating the light in ordinary life.
……
On October 16th at 8:30 AM, a beige bus was parked in front of the “Future Manga Company” entrance.
Yuichi Matsui, wearing a gray jacket, leaned against the car door checking the camera. Seeing Hiroshi Nohara approach, he immediately smiled and waved, “Hiroshi-kun, all the equipment is ready. We can depart once Misae-chan and the others come out.”
Hiroshi nodded, and as soon as he stood still, he heard a commotion behind him—Misae, wearing a goose-yellow dress, led seven or eight young manga artists walking quickly towards him, each carrying a small backpack, their faces full of excitement.
Rina Sato was still holding her camera, taking pictures of the bus non-stop, muttering, “I must take more pictures and draw them into the fan manga for “Taste of Neon” later!”
“Hiroshi-kun!” Misae ran to Hiroshi’s side, holding a manuscript in her hand. “Look at the Kumamon cover I revised. The editor said it’s cuter this way. What do you think?”
On the manuscript, Kumamon was holding tuna sushi, with “Tongue Tip Limited” written next to it in pink font, and the lines were considerably rounder than last time.
Hiroshi took the manuscript and pointed to Kumamon’s ears, “Add two wavy lines here, like they’re blowing in the wind. It will be more dynamic.”
Misae immediately took out her pencil to make revisions, and the other manga artists gathered around. Kazuo Takahashi looked at the manuscript and sighed, “Hiroshi-kun notices even these small details. No wonder Doraemon is so popular.”
Everyone got on the bus one after another, and the bus slowly drove away from the city.
As soon as they got on the highway, Rina Sato couldn’t help but stand up and shout to the people in the car: “Everyone, don’t just sit there! Let’s ask Hiroshi-kun about the fun stories of filming Taste of Neon! I’ve always been curious, how many takes did it take Mr. Nomizu to successfully film the net-casting scene?”
The carriage instantly became lively, and everyone chimed in.
Misae sat next to Hiroshi, swinging her legs, and asked, “Hiroshi-kun, what made you think of filming a story about fishermen back then? I thought you’d film Tokyo’s influencer restaurants first.”
Hiroshi leaned back against the chair, his tone calm, “Last year when I went to Chiba for research, I saw Mr. Nomizu setting out to sea at three in the morning. When he pulled in the nets, the calluses on his hands were bleeding but he kept going. At that time, I felt that compared to the glamorous restaurants, the persistence of these ordinary people was more worthy of being recorded.”
“Wow!” Rina Sato took out her notebook and quickly jotted something down. “Were you nervous when filming the tuna auction? I saw the auctioneer’s bidding rhythm in the film, it was so fast. How did you capture such clear shots?”
“We communicated with the auction market for three days in advance, and Mr. Saito even specifically adjusted the telephoto lens,” Hiroshi recalled. “On the morning of the auction, we went to secure a spot at five o’clock, and it took eight takes to capture the most natural bidding scene. The speaking speed of those auctioneers, honed over years, is even harder to catch than lines in a television drama.”
Keisuke Yamada propped his chin up, his eyes full of admiration: “Hiroshi-kun, you’re too amazing! For the samurai duel scenes in ‘Seven Samurai,’ I heard you specifically invited a tenth-dan kendo master to guide you to recreate realistic kendo movements? When I filmed short manga before, I couldn’t even draw the details of samurai armor well. I’m so far behind you.”
Hiroshi smiled, “Every field requires dedication. When you draw armor, you can go to a museum and look at the actual items, paying attention to the arrangement of the plates and how the straps are tied. The more realistic the details, the more the readers can immerse themselves.”
The discussions in the carriage became more and more enthusiastic. Some people asked about the script creation for “World of the Strange” and others were curious about the source of creativity for “Super Change Change Change”. Hiroshi patiently answered them one by one.
Rina Sato watched Hiroshi’s composed demeanor and secretly said to Misae, “President Misae, no matter what Hiroshi-kun says, he’s always so calm. No wonder everyone says he’s like a politician—that kind of aura where he doesn’t change expression even if Mount Tai collapses before him, I’ll never learn that in my lifetime.”
Misae proudly lifted her chin, “Of course! Hiroshi-kun is someone who can film a documentary with a 24% ratings record!” As she spoke, she took snacks from her backpack and distributed them to everyone. The carriage was filled with the aroma of snacks and cheerful laughter, making even the farmland flashing past the window look exceptionally charming.
At eleven in the morning, the bus arrived at the Chiba Fish Market.
As soon as they got out of the car, everyone was stunned by the sight before them—Mr. Nomizu’s Fish Shop was crowded with people, the line stretching from the entrance all the way to the market entrance, and reporters were interviewing with cameras, flashes blinking incessantly.
“My goodness, so many people!” Rina Sato exclaimed, “It’s even livelier than the anime exhibition in Tokyo!”
Masayasu Nomizu, wearing dark blue fishing trousers, was busy packing tuna for a customer. Seeing Hiroshi and the others approach, he immediately waved with a smile: “Hiroshi-kun! Misae-chan! You’re finally here! Come in and sit down. I specially saved the best tuna belly for you!”
Everyone followed Masayasu Nomizu into the fish shop. It was even livelier inside than outside – several tables were full of customers. Some were taking photos of sashimi with their phones, while others were eating and saying, “This must be the tuna from 《Taste of Neon》, right? It’s definitely fresher than in other shops!”
Masayasu Nomizu led everyone to the small table in the back room and sighed helplessly, “Hiroshi-kun, this is the trouble with fame. We used to only sell thirty pounds of tuna a day, and now we have to sell two hundred pounds. The fishermen are almost overworked. Yesterday, people from a travel agency came to see me, wanting to turn the fish shop into a tourist attraction. I don’t even know how to refuse them.”
Misae smiled and said, “Mr. Nomizu, this is a good thing! It lets more people taste your tuna, how wonderful!”
Masayasu Nomizu scratched his head. “That’s what you say, but I still want to quietly make fish. Yesterday a customer insisted I perform sashimi cutting, and even said they wanted to film it and send it to the TV station. I was too embarrassed to refuse – my skills aren’t suited for performing on stage.”
Hiroshi looked at Masayasu Nomizu’s helpless expression and said in a gentle tone, “If you feel tired, just tell the travel agency clearly, you don’t have to force yourself. Your original intention for making fish was to let everyone taste fresh flavors, not to cater to others’ demands.”
Masayasu Nomizu’s eyes lit up, and he nodded quickly, “Hiroshi-kun is right! Once this busy period is over, I’ll make it clear to them. Oh, by the way, quickly try the tuna belly I cut. It was just caught from the sea today; it’s very fresh!”
He said and brought over a plate of sashimi. The tuna’s texture gleamed pink under the light, with wasabi and soy sauce placed beside it.
Misae picked up her chopsticks and picked up a piece, put it in her mouth, and her eyes instantly widened: “Wow! It’s even more delicious than the sushi in Tokyo! It melts in your mouth and isn’t greasy at all!”
Other manga artists also tasted them one after another. Rina Sato took photos while eating, saying, “This is so delicious! I’m going to draw this scene and title it ‘Gifts from the Sea’!”
Just as things were lively, a shouting match suddenly broke out at the entrance of the fish shop.
Masayasu Nomizu frowned, “What’s going on? I’ll go take a look.”
Everyone followed him out and saw three punks with dyed blonde hair standing at the entrance. The leader pointed at a customer and shouted, “You ate our boss’s tuna, and now he’s vomiting and having diarrhea. You have to pay!”
The guest was a middle-aged man, still holding the unfinished sashimi in his hand, his face flushed red. “I don’t know your boss at all! This tuna is what I just bought, how could there be a problem?”
“You still dare to argue!” The blonde-haired youth took a step forward, reaching out to push the middle-aged man. “Our boss said that if you don’t pay 50,000 yen today, this broken shop of yours won’t be able to open!”
The customers in front of the fish shop gathered around, and someone whispered, “This person must be here to cause trouble. I saw them loitering in the market for a long time just now, waiting for an opportunity to make a scene.”
Some people also took out pagers, preparing to call the police.
Misae clenched her fists in anger and walked up to the young man with dyed hair, glaring at him and saying, “You’ve gone too far! Mr. Nomizu’s tuna is caught fresh from the sea every day, how could there be a problem? It must be that your boss ate something else and felt unwell, and is deliberately coming here to cause trouble!”
The blonde boy looked Misae up and down and scoffed, “What do you know, you little brat? If you dare speak again, I’ll deal with you too!”
Keisuke Yamada immediately stood in front of Misae, his tone serious: “We’ve already called the police. You’d best leave quickly, or you’ll be in trouble when they arrive!”
The blonde-haired youth’s face changed, but he still stubbornly said, “Call the police? I’m not afraid of you! You must pay this money today, or I’ll smash your shop!”
As he spoke, he was about to reach out and pull aside the nearby fish stall, but Masayasu Nomizu quickly stepped forward to stop him, and the two became locked in a standoff.
Hiroshi stood nearby, frowning. Just as he was about to take out his phone to contact someone from the Chiba Prefectural Government, he heard the sound of a siren in the distance.
Everyone turned their heads and saw several police cars pull up, stopping at the entrance of the fish shop. More than a dozen police officers quickly approached. Leading them was a middle-aged man in a suit, who was precisely Chiba City Vice Mayor Hidematsu Kawabe.
“Stop!”
Hidematsu Kawabe shouted loudly, and the police immediately stepped forward to restrain the three delinquent youths.
He walked up to Masayasu Nomizu and bowed first to apologize: “Mr. Nomizu, you’ve been wronged. We haven’t done a good job of maintaining public order.”
Then he turned to Hiroshi, extending his hand with a smile: “Hiroshi-kun, long time no see. Last time we met at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, I didn’t have a chance to chat with you properly about Taste of Neon.”
Hiroshi shook his hand and said calmly, “Mr. Kawabe, thank you for coming all this way. What’s going on with these people?”
Hidematsu Kawabe sighed, his eyes full of anger: “Yesterday we received a tip that a delinquent gang wanted to use the popularity of Taste of Neon to cause trouble at the fish shop, so I specifically brought police to patrol. I didn’t expect them to still find an opportunity—Chiba City has finally become famous thanks to Taste of Neon, and anyone who dares to hinder its development will absolutely not be let off by me!”
“Well said!”
The customers in front of the fish shop applauded, and a middle-aged man walked up to Hidematsu Kawabe and said gratefully, “Thank you, Vice Mayor-san, for arriving in time, otherwise I would have been in trouble today. How dare these people try to extort money when Mr. Nomizu’s tuna is so fresh, it’s simply outrageous!”
Hidematsu Kawabe patted his shoulder: “Don’t worry, we will investigate thoroughly and will not let the culprits get away with it. In the future, if anyone encounters trouble while eating tuna here, contact the police directly, and we will respond immediately.”
As the police escorted the delinquent youths away, the blond youth was still struggling: “What right do you have to arrest me? I was just here to demand compensation!”
Hidematsu Kawabe said coldly, “Whether you get compensation will be decided at the police station. Do you think we don’t know that your boss got diarrhea from eating expired bento boxes, and it has nothing to do with Mr. Nomizu’s tuna!”
The surrounding people laughed, and Masayasu Nomizu breathed a sigh of relief, bowing to Hidematsu Kawabe: “Thank you, Mr. Kawabe. If it weren’t for you, I really wouldn’t know what to do today.”
“No need to thank me,” Hidematsu Kawabe waved his hand and looked at Hiroshi, “Hiroshi-kun, after Taste of Neon was broadcast, the number of tourists in Chiba Prefecture increased by 30%, and the sales of the seafood market also rose significantly. Governor Koike even specifically called to praise me, saying that without your documentary, Chiba Prefecture wouldn’t have had such good development.”
Hiroshi smiled: “This is the result of everyone’s joint efforts. Mr. Nomizu’s persistence in selling fresh tuna, Mr. Kawabe’s excellent public safety work, and the tourists’ willingness to spend money here are all reasons why Chiba Prefecture can develop.”
Misae grabbed Hiroshi’s arm and said excitedly, “Hiroshi-kun, how about we go to the beach later? I want to see where Mr. Nomizu goes out to sea, maybe I can find new inspiration for my manga!”
“Sure,” Hiroshi nodded, then turned to Masayasu Nomizu and said, “Mr. Nomizu, after you’re done with your work, we’d like to go to the wharf to see, is that alright?”
Masayasu Nomizu immediately agreed: “Of course, no problem! I’ll have the fishermen prepare and take you to see my fishing boat, and tell you about fishing techniques along the way.”
Everyone followed Masayasu Nomizu towards the wharf. Sunlight scattered on the sea surface, casting a golden glow.
Rina Sato kept taking pictures with her camera, muttering, “The scenery here is so beautiful, even more so than the scenes in manga! When I get back, I must draw these into the manga for Taste of Neon, so that more people can know the beauty of Chiba.”
Misae walked beside Hiroshi, swinging her manuscript: “Hiroshi-kun, I’m going to draw the seaside scenery later too. If we shoot a sequel to Taste of Neon in the future, it might be useful!”
Hiroshi looked at Misae’s serious expression and a gentle smile appeared at the corner of his lips: “Yes, we’ll go film it together then, and bring more stories of ordinary people to the audience.”
A gentle sea breeze blew, carrying the salty scent of the sea. Fishing boats slowly passed in the distance, and the laughter of the fishermen could be heard, intermingling with everyone’s conversations, creating a warm scene.
Hiroshi knew this was the life he wanted—to record the beauty of ordinary people with his lens, to convey the warmth of life through stories, and the companionship of the people around him was the most precious part of this beauty.
…
At 10 AM on October 16th, in the top-floor office of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto the wooden desk, making the ratings report for “Taste of Neon” particularly conspicuous.
Governor Ryuichi Koike sat in his leather seat, his fingers gently tapping on the “24.1% nationwide ratings” on the report, an involuntary curve forming at the corner of his lips.
The office door was gently pushed open, and Department Head Tadashi Hattori entered with a stack of documents. Seeing Governor Koike’s demeanor, he couldn’t help but smile and say, “Governor-san, it seems you’ve already seen the ratings data? I just returned from Kanto Television Station, and I personally met with Hiroshi Nohara. Furthermore, I’ve noticed that even the young people at our prefectural government are discussing Taste of Neon; even the auntie in the pantry is saying she wants to go to Chiba to eat tuna this weekend.”
Ryuichi Koike looked up and handed the report to Tadashi Hattori, his tone full of gratification: “Hattori-kun, take a look at these numbers, the highest ratings for a documentary in nearly a decade! Hiroshi Nohara, this young man, truly hasn’t disappointed us. I was worried before that no one would watch the documentary, but now it seems my concerns were unfounded.”
Tadashi Hattori took the report and quickly flipped through a few pages, his eyes filled with admiration: “Not only are the ratings high, but the reviews are also excellent. Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun both gave perfect scores in their reviews, and Akira Saeki even called it ‘the best humanistic documentary of the past decade in Japan.’ The Chiba Prefectural Government just sent word that Masayasu Nomizu’s fish shop received over five thousand visitors yesterday alone, more than three times the usual amount.”
“This is the power of good content.”
Ryuichi Koike leaned back in his chair, his fingers interlaced over his abdomen. “Young people nowadays are always chasing idol variety shows, forgetting that the stories of the ordinary people around us are the most touching. Hiroshi Nohara portrays the lives of fishermen and artisans, allowing people to see the hard work and persistence behind the delicious food; this is more effective than any promotional slogan.”
He paused and continued, “I previously tasked the publicity department with the ‘Local Culture Promotion Plan,’ but after half a year, it had little effect. I didn’t expect that one documentary by Hiroshi Nohara would achieve what they couldn’t—now, all of Japan is discussing Chiba’s seafood and Gunma’s soba noodles. This is the best way of cultural export.”
Tadashi Hattori nodded in agreement: “You are absolutely right. I spoke with Hiroshi Nohara yesterday, and he said he plans to film in Kyoto’s Japanese sweets shops and Saitama’s old bakeries next. The traditional crafts in those places are on the verge of disappearing. If more people can learn about them through Taste of Neon, it might attract young people to study and inherit them.”
“That’s a great idea!” Ryuichi Koike’s eyes lit up, and he sat up straight. “We must fully support him. I will contact the Kyoto Prefectural Government to cooperate with the filming; if Saitama Prefecture’s old bakeries face difficulties, we can apply for the ‘Traditional Culture Preservation Fund’ to help them improve their equipment. We cannot let such an excellent project be halted due to funding or site issues.”
He picked up the telephone on his desk and quickly dialed his secretary: “Have the planning department come over immediately. I want to discuss the follow-up promotion plan for Taste of Neon with them. Also, contact the governors of Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures to schedule a video conference next week to discuss how to develop tourism by leveraging the popularity of Taste of Neon.”
After hanging up the phone, Ryuichi Koike looked at Tadashi Hattori, his tone becoming serious: “Hattori-kun, we cannot just focus on the current popularity. The success of Taste of Neon is not accidental; it has shown us that the public needs content with warmth and depth. From now on, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government must provide more support for such projects, such as funding independent documentary directors and organizing ‘Local Culture Film Exhibitions,’ to give more people the opportunity to tell the stories of ordinary people.”
Tadashi Hattori quickly took notes and nodded, saying, “I understand your point. Previously, the publicity department wanted to undertake the ‘Exploring Old Tokyo Streets’ project, but it was never launched due to concerns that no one would watch it. Now, with the success of Taste of Neon as a case study, we can relaunch this project, find Hiroshi Nohara as a consultant, and learn from his filming techniques. Perhaps we can create another great work.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Ryuichi Koike looked at Tadashi Hattori approvingly. “Hiroshi Nohara is not only talented but also very responsible. Last time, Super Change Change Change promoted neighborly interaction, Late-night Diner reminded people of the taste of home, and this time, Taste of Neon has boosted the development of local culture and tourism. We must cultivate such talent well; we can cooperate with him on suitable projects in the future.”
As they were speaking, the secretary led the person in charge of the planning department into the office.
Ryuichi Koike picked up the ratings report and said to everyone, “I’ve called you all here today to discuss the follow-up promotion plan for Taste of Neon. First, we will broadcast Taste of Neon in elementary and middle schools nationwide, using it as material for local cultural education so that children can understand the hardships of fishermen and artisans and cherish food. Second, we will collaborate with the tourism bureau to launch ‘Taste of Neon Tours,’ from Chiba’s seafood market to Gunma’s soba noodle old street, and then to Kyoto’s Japanese sweets shops, to attract more tourists. Finally, we will translate Taste of Neon into English, Chinese, and Korean and submit it to international documentary festivals for exhibition, allowing more people around the world to understand Japan’s culinary culture and humanistic spirit.”
The person in charge of the planning department quickly nodded: “Governor-san, we will proceed with the plan immediately. However, international exhibition may incur some costs, and there are copyright issues for broadcasting in elementary and middle schools. These all need to be communicated with Tokyo TV and Hiroshi Nohara.”
“Cost is not an issue.”
Ryuichi Koike said decisively, “Funds will be allocated from the Cultural Promotion Fund; we must do this right. For copyright issues, I will have Mr. Hattori communicate with Hiroshi Nohara. I believe he will agree—his original intention in creating content was not to make money, but to convey warmth and positive energy.”
Tadashi Hattori immediately responded: “I will go to Tokyo TV this afternoon to find Hiroshi Nohara and discuss copyright and exhibition matters with him.”
The discussion in the office became more enthusiastic, and everyone’s face was full of drive.
Ryuichi Koike stood up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the bustling streets below, his heart filled with emotion. He recalled that a few years ago, the local culture of Tokyo was gradually being impacted by foreign cultures, and young people were becoming increasingly unfamiliar with traditional crafts. He had worried about this for a long time.
And now, because of a documentary, all of this was slowly changing.
“Hattori-kun,” Ryuichi Koike turned to Tadashi Hattori and said, “After this matter is settled, let’s meet with Hiroshi Nohara and thank him properly. He has not only produced a good documentary but has also pointed the direction for Japan’s cultural inheritance and development. Such young people are the future of Japan.”
Tadashi Hattori nodded, his eyes filled with agreement: “You are absolutely right. Although Hiroshi Nohara is young, he understands the meaning of content better than many veteran directors. He uses his lens to record the stories of ordinary people and uses stories to convey the warmth of life. This is true cultural dissemination. In the future, we must support more creators like him to make Japanese culture increasingly vibrant.”
Sunlight streamed through the window, falling on both of them and also on the ratings report on the desk.
The number 24.1% seemed to be shining, not only representing the success of a documentary but also representing a warm power—this power is slowly changing Japan, allowing more people to see the beauty and preciousness in ordinary life.
