novelraw Chapter 117: Concepts for Midnight Diner and Solitary Gourmet!
Chapter 117: Concepts for Midnight Diner and Solitary Gourmet!
"You are... Nohara Hiroshi!?"
That shout, filled with astonishment and ecstasy, was like a stone tossed into a tranquil lake, instantly stirring up a thousand ripples within this little Eatery brimming with a sense of story!
"Nani?! It's really Sensei Nohara?!"
At the bar, those few bouncers in black suits who looked Fierce and Evil, exuding an aura of "strangers keep away" from head to toe, practically bounced out of their seats simultaneously!
Their faces, written full of "not to be trifled with," were now replaced by a fanaticism bordering on pilgrimage.
Their gazes were so scorching hot they seemed capable of melting Nohara Hiroshi on the spot!
"It's the real Sensei Nohara!"
A burly man sporting a buzz cut, with the corner of a Hannya tattoo peeking out from his neck, flushed completely red with excitement. He rushed forward, covering three steps in two. Hand large as a palm-leaf fan extended halfway before retracting like he'd been electrocuted. He foolishly wiped it on his own expensive suit before speaking with an ashamed tone: "Sensei Nohara! Your Tales of the Unusual, I... I follow every single episode! That 'Terrifying Sensation'! That plot twist! It's simply... simply the stroke of a god!"
"And Yamishibai!" A companion beside him with a shallow scar on his face also leaned in. On his face, which usually carried a somewhat ferocious expression, was now written full of the excitement a little fan feels upon meeting their idol: "What us brothers loved watching the most in the past was the Yamishibai you directed! That's true horror! True Urban Legends! When that trash named Iwata took over later, the stuff he directed was total garbage! Thank goodness you've returned! Return of the King!"
Even the "Ochazuke Sisters" in the corner—who always huddled together, chattering away about men, and only ever ordering Ochazuke—had forgotten their reserve right now. Each of their eyes shone brightly, like three kittens that had spotted catnip, excitedly whispering amongst themselves."Wow... so handsome... even more handsome than he looks on TV..."
"His real person has such great temperament. And look at that girl beside him, she's so pretty too. Is she his girlfriend?"
"Definitely! A genius matched with a beauty, it's perfectly justified!"
Misae was startled by this sudden commotion and subconsciously hid slightly behind Nohara Hiroshi. However, her exquisite little face had long been dyed with a proud blush from Sharing the Glory.
These people were clearly Hiroshi-kun's fans. Seeing them respect her Hiroshi-kun this much truly gave her a feeling of pride.
However, upon seeing those guys with tattoos and cruel appearances.
Misae still took another step back.
In Japanese society, having tattoos meant you weren't a good person;
it meant you were part of a syndicate, a person associated with the underworld.
They would genuinely be discriminated against.
Nohara Hiroshi looked at this humorous scene unfolding before his eyes. The tiny bit of helplessness in his heart from being interrupted was instantly replaced by a warm current that left him Dumbfounded.
He smiled, extended his hand, and shook hands one by one with those "fanatical fans" who looked capable of punching a cow to death. His posture was calm and well-mannered, lacking even the slightest bit of arrogance that often stemmed from being idolized.
Although his previous world's China also cast some strange looks at tattoos, they didn't have the strict hierarchy and societal suppression of Japan.
Completely looking down on these underworld members.
Nohara Hiroshi also viewed it very indifferently.
They were all fans after all.
If he broke his fans' hearts, and word got out, it truly would damage his own image.
Since Nohara Hiroshi came from another world, he naturally knew that sometimes when people in high positions act a bit more generous and maintain decency, it actually serves as an extremely excellent bonus point.
Thus, he also nodded with a smile and said, "Thank you all for your support. It's just an ordinary program, not worthy of the phrase 'godly work.'"
"No, no, no! You are too humble!"
Behind the bar, that scar-faced boss who had merely been quietly watching all of this from beginning to end—Mizukami Sho—finally set down the plate in his hand.
He slightly bowed toward Nohara Hiroshi. In his hoarse, steady voice carried a heartfelt respect: "To be able to create works that make the customers feel happiness and shock from the bottom of their hearts, you are worthy of any praise."
Nohara Hiroshi's gaze fell upon him, a trace of imperceptible sharp light flashing in his clear eyes.
This face, this attire, this aura that had settled amidst the Vitality of Life of the marketplace, calm as the deep sea...
"Excuse me, have we met somewhere before?"
Nohara Hiroshi pulled Misae to sit down at the bar, asking seemingly unintentionally, "I have a friend named Kobayashi Kaoru... you look incredibly similar to him, Boss."
The hand Mizukami Sho was using to wipe the plate paused slightly. Immediately after, an astonishment surfaced on his face, which usually carried a bit of aloofness, followed by a faint, somewhat aloof smile: "Is that so? Perhaps it is only a coincidence. There are always many similar people in the world."
Nohara Hiroshi smiled and didn't press further.
This was practically nonsense anyway.
After all, Kobayashi Kaoru was the protagonist in Midnight Diner from his previous world!
How could it have any relation to this current world?
However, seeing this familiar scene and seeing this boss of a Midnight Diner named Mizukami Sho, he also broke into a smile.
From his demeanor to his appearance, he really looked similar.
And he even had a scar on his face.
Too interesting!
He surveyed this tiny Eatery, looking at each diner with their own stories. In this moment, that brain belonging to a top-tier producer began operating frantically at a terrifying speed.
Late night, delicious food, the lonely souls in the metropolis...
These three keywords were like three perfect puzzle pieces, instantly connecting within his mind into a magnificent blueprint bursting with infinite possibilities.
"Boss, anything on the menu, you can make?" he suddenly opened his mouth to ask.
"Mhm." Mizukami Sho nodded. In his calm eyes flashed the confidence belonging to a Shokunin: "As long as it's something I know how to make."
"Alright then." The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's lips curled up: "I'll have a portion of pork cutlet rice bowl. As for my wife... a portion of vegetable salad, thank you."
This was too similar to Midnight Diner!
"Understood, please wait a moment."
Mizukami Sho turned and walked into the back kitchen. Soon, an overbearing aroma mixing pork fat and breadcrumbs wafted out from the kitchen, accompanied by a pleasingly crisp tsss— sound.
Not long after, a piping-hot, golden and crispy pork cutlet rice bowl, alongside a vibrantly colored vegetable salad that looked refreshing and appetizing just from a glance, were brought before the two of them.
That pork cutlet was fried crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Upon taking a bite, the rich meat juices mixed with the sweetness of the rice exploded in the mouth. The purest joy belonging to carbs and fat was enough to heal any exhausted soul.
"Mmm—! It's so delicious!"
Misae took a bite of the salad, her beautiful large eyes instantly squinting in happiness. She couldn't resist sneaking a bite of Nohara Hiroshi's pork cutlet, her little face written full of exclamation: "Boss! Your cooking skills... are even more amazing than those Michelin chefs in Ginza!"
Mizukami Sho merely smiled without speaking, turning around to continue preparing food for the other customers.
As for Nohara Hiroshi, while savoring this delicious food full of human warmth, he was quietly observing everyone around him.
He watched those few bouncers blowing their own horns about their "glorious deeds" in the underworld from their youth after a few cups of sake down their throats. That cheap yet genuine vanity belonging to men made him smile knowingly.
He watched the "Ochazuke Sisters" complaining about not meeting good men while simultaneously critiquing new, handsome customers. That gossipy nature longing for love belonging to women left him unable to hold back a smile.
He even saw an enka singer wearing a gorgeous Kimono, yet carrying a bit of loneliness on her face, currently sitting alone in a corner silently savoring a cup of sake. Her gaze seemed to be reminiscing about a brilliant era of her youth that had long since passed.
These were the most vivid, most authentic stories belonging to this city.
They didn't require gorgeous packaging, nor did they require convoluted plots.
They only needed a quiet stage, a plate of piping-hot delicious food, and a gentle narrator willing to listen.
A thought instantly illuminated Nohara Hiroshi's mind like lightning tearing through the night sky.
Midnight Diner.
This was it!
He had found an entirely new, godly project capable of becoming the king of the late-night slot—just like Tales of the Unusual—and perhaps even sparking a new wave of societal phenomenon!
Moreover, this wasn't all.
When his gaze fell upon a salaryman currently eating alone to his total satisfaction, his face brimming with a kind of oblivious-to-others happiness, another equally enchanting name leaped out from the depths of his memory without warning.
Solitary Gourmet.
A story detailing how a man searched for the gastronomic happiness uniquely belonging to him in one inconspicuous little shop after another.
There were no fierce conflicts, no complex interpersonal relationships, only the purest respect for food and love for life.
These two completely distinct philosophies regarding delicious food acted like two rushing rivers. Within his mind, they converged, collided, and ultimately formed a vast ocean named "gourmet drama" capable of submerging the entire Japanese television industry!
"Not bad... this time is truly not bad..."
The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's lips curled into a brilliant, almost manic smile brimming with absolute confidence.
He looked at the tiny Eatery before him, which was overflowing with the Vitality of Life. His gaze was like Columbus discovering the New World, full of the searing light belonging to a conqueror!
He knew that starting from tonight, an entirely new, massive business empire capable of making him earn profits until his bowls and basins were overflowing—and even allowing him to extend his tentacles into the two brand-new fields of catering and publishing—had quietly laid its foundation within his mind.
And what he needed to do was transform this warmth uniquely belonging to the late night into a Viewership Ratings myth... capable of driving all of Japan crazy!
...
The next day, when Nohara Hiroshi stepped into the office that had already become his exclusive kingdom feeling fresh and energetic, the first thing he did was press the intercom button.
"Kitagawa, come to my office for a moment."
Soon, a capable figure appeared at the doorway.
"Department Manager, you were looking for me." Kitagawa Yao walked over wearing a well-tailored business suit.
"Mhm." Nohara Hiroshi pointed to the sofa opposite him, motioning for her to sit down, and then cut straight to the chase: "I'm preparing to establish a new company, a cultural media company specifically responsible for the incubation and operation of manga IPs."
"Eh?!" Kitagawa Yao was stunned;
her large eyes, which were always bright, were written full of astonishment.
These words were still too advanced for her.
Of course, Nohara Hiroshi didn't need her to understand too much;
she only needed to finish handling the affairs he assigned next.
"I am the person in charge of the company."
Nohara Hiroshi continued, his tone as calm as if he were announcing what to eat for lunch today: "For startup capital, we'll take out ten million yen first. For office space, rent a small office building nearby our television station. You will be fully responsible for this matter;
get it done as soon as possible, can you do that?"
Ten million yen!
Kitagawa Yao felt her heart skip half a beat.
This was no small amount of money.
"Understood! But Department Manager... I also don't really understand the specifics of how to register a company," Kitagawa Yao spoke truthfully.
"It's fine, I will equip you with a professional legal team and financial team." Nohara Hiroshi's tone brooked no questioning: "What you need to do is simply execute my arrangements."
He paused and continued:
"After the company is established, the first task is to recruit manga artists. No need for any famous masters. What I want are those rookies who possess passion and fundamental skills, but whose talents remain unrecognized. The work model is very simple;
they don't need to come sit in the office. I will provide complete scripts and character design drafts. What they need to do is complete the coloring and flesh out and expand the content according to my requirements."
"The first work is this one." He pushed a thick stack of Manuscripts, still smelling faintly of graphite, in front of Kitagawa Yao.
On it, written in a unique artistic font, were several large characters full of childlike wonder and enchantment—Doraemon.
"Th-this is..." Kitagawa Yao looked at the round, blue cat-like robot on the paper, an unbelievable brilliance instantly erupting in her eyes!
"Do me a favor, Kitagawa, I will give you a sum of remuneration." Nohara Hiroshi gave a helpless smile as well: "You know too, I actually don't understand anything either."
"Understood!" Kitagawa Yao instantly felt the sensation of being entrusted with a heavy responsibility, immediately bowing again.
...
A weekend a few days later, the sunlight was just right.
Not far from TV Tokyo, in front of a small two-story office building that had just been listed for rent.
Holding Misae's hand, Nohara Hiroshi looked at the "Future Comic Club" before him—which, although not large, was bright and spotlessly clean, brimming with infinite possibilities—a satisfied smile appearing on his face.
Beside him, Kitagawa Yao and Minamura Hoshi acted like two utmost loyal knights, proudly introducing this territory that was about to belong to her to their "Department Manager's Wife."
And Kitagawa Yao, as the primary person in charge, held her head high and chest out even more.
This was a personal favor she had done for Department Manager Nohara!
"Madam Misae, look, although it's not large here, the sparrow may be small but it has all its vital organs! The first floor is the reception area and public art studio, while the second floor has your President's office and our core Meeting Room. All the renovations and equipment were personally selected by the Department Manager, making use of only the best!" The pride of Sharing the Glory overfilled Minamura Hoshi's voice.
"Yeah, yeah!" Kitagawa Yao eagerly chimed in with flattery: "The Department Manager said this is only the beginning! Letting Madam become the President! Then once Department Manager Nohara's Doraemon blows up, we'll buy an even bigger office building in the future! And even go public! At that time, you'll be the youngest and prettiest beautiful President in all of our Japan!"
"Oh my! You... you guys stop making fun of me!" Misae's face instantly turned as red as a hot iron. Both shy and joyous, she subconsciously buried her little face into the crook of Nohara Hiroshi's arm. Her maiden heart was already completely filled by an immense sense of happiness.
She lifted her head, her starlight-filled eyes unblinkingly looking at the man beside her who was holding up an entire piece of the sky for her. Her voice carried a dreamlike tremble: "Hiroshi-kun... can I... can I really do it?"
"Of course you can." Nohara Hiroshi smiled and rubbed her hair, his voice full of unquestionable tenderness: "You only need to remember, you are my, Nohara Hiroshi's, woman. That's enough."
Placed in his previous world, these were cheesy sweet nothings.
But now.
This was a declaration reeking of domineering CEO vibes!
It made Misae's heart so sweet it was about to melt!
"Um... Department Manager, Madam, we... we'll head over to that newly opened cafe in the front and buy you guys some drinks!" Kitagawa Yao and Minamura Hoshi exchanged a glance, both seeing a knowing smile in the other's eyes.
The two of them very tacitly found a most perfect excuse to Slip Away for this couple currently immersed in their own two-person world.
However, the moment they turned around, two terrified screams pierced through the tranquility of this afternoon without warning!
"Kyaa—!"
"Ah—!"
Nohara Hiroshi and Misae were simultaneously taken aback. Following the sound, they saw those two young people who had just been sporting wicked grins returning Scrambling like two rabbits who had seen a ghost. Written all over their young faces was undisguised horror.
"M-Mobsters! There's mobsters!!" Minamura Hoshi stammered, hiding behind Nohara Hiroshi and using a trembling finger to point at a figure slowly approaching from not far away.
Nohara Hiroshi frowned and looked in the direction he pointed.
He saw a man unhurriedly walking towards their side.
That man wore a visually striking yellow plaid suit, an old-fashioned pair of brown sunglasses on his face, and beneath a head of messy black curly short hair was a face full of "story" sufficient to make a child cry in the night.
Those deep nasolabial folds, that aura of imposing authority without anger—especially that thick ring of stubble coupled with the smile curling his lips, which he mistakenly thought was amiable but actually looked more ferocious than an evil spirit—caused his entire person to emit a powerful aura of "I am not a good person."
In his hand, he was also carrying a seemingly quite professional DSLR camera.
"Everyone, pardon the intrusion."
The man walked up to the group and stopped his footsteps. His hoarse voice, like two pieces of coarse sandpaper rubbing against each other, was highly oppressive: "I see that you ladies and gentlemen possess exceptional appearances and extraordinary temperaments;
surely you must be celebrating some joyous occasion, yes? My name is Takakura Bunta;
I'm a photographer. If you wouldn't be averse to it, I'd like to take a commemorative photo for you, to record down this beautiful moment. The price is very cheap, just... five hundred yen for one."
As he spoke, that ferocious smile at the corners of his lips widened further, revealing a mouthful of teeth that appeared somewhat yellowed from long-term smoking.
"Kyaa—!"
Misae lost her color from fright, tightly hugging Nohara Hiroshi's arm.
Kitagawa Yao and Minamura Hoshi trembled even more like two lingering leaves in the wind.
What... what kind of photographer was this?
This was clearly an underworld member using taking photos as an excuse to forcibly extort people!
However, right amidst this highly tense atmosphere, a complaining voice filled with suppressed fury transmitted from behind Takakura Bunta.
"Takakura! You bastard! How many times have I told you! Don't smile at the customers with that face of yours! You'll scare people away!"
They saw a man wearing the exact same style of suit, only in a blue plaid color, sprint over exasperatedly. He shoved Takakura Bunta aside and then directed an apologetic smile at Nohara Hiroshi's group.
"I am incredibly sorry! Incredibly sorry! This partner of mine, he looks... a bit hasty. But he absolutely isn't a bad person!"
"You're the one who looks hasty!" Takakura Bunta retorted unyieldingly, a trace of grievance actually surfacing on his ferocious face: "My look is full of the weathered maturity of a man! You don't understand!"
"I understand my ass!" The man in the blue suit jumped up and down in anger. "I only know that ever since partnering with you, our performance this month is dead last in the entire company! Every time we go out, we're either treated as scammers by customers or interrogated by patrolling police! I must've had eight lifetimes of bloody bad luck to be grouped with you! You should scram back to your hometown in Kasukabe! Stop trying to get by in Tokyo!"
"..." Takakura Bunta was rendered speechless by his tirade. All the ferocity faded from his terrifying face, leaving only a deep sigh full of grievance and loneliness.
Looking at the young people before him who lost their color from fright because of him, he finally set down the camera in his hand and gave them a deep bow.
"I am incredibly sorry for scaring everyone."
His voice was filled with helplessness: "It seems... I really am not suited for this line of work. Perhaps... I should still go open a Kindergarten and play with little kids;
that would suit me better."
This speech full of contrasting gap moe left Misae, Kitagawa Yao, and Minamura Hoshi stunned.
As they looked at this middle-aged man before them, whose exterior looked Fierce and Evil yet his interior was as soft as a child's, that fear inexplicably dissipated somewhat, replaced by a Dumbfounded sympathy.
Only Nohara Hiroshi looked at this scene full of black humor playing out before his eyes, his eyes widening slightly: "Is this person... Takakura Bunta!?"
The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's lips curved slightly.
The principal of the Futaba Kindergarten in Kasukabe!
To think he would encounter him ahead of time in such a highly dramatic manner.
It seemed this world really was... full of wondrous tales.
Seeing Takakura Bunta looking so at a loss for what to do right now, Nohara Hiroshi stepped forward. Hand rested under the astonished gazes of those two, he nodded with a smile and said:
"Mr. Takakura, is it?"
His voice was calm: "Then please take... a few more photos for us. To record down... this brand-new beginning of ours!"
Just photos for five hundred yen each.
This money wasn't expensive.
It could be considered a tiny bit of care from him, Nohara Hiroshi, for the principal!