novelraw Chapter 123: The Agitated Suzuki Kiyoto! Kanto Station's Rebirth From the Ashes!
Chapter 123: The Agitated Suzuki Kiyoto! Kanto Station's Rebirth From the Ashes!
Within Asumi's refined eyes currently burned a raging inferno capable of swallowing everything.
He looked at this young man before him, who was as calm as if discussing the weather. His heart, which had long been polished as hard as a boulder by the arena of power, unexpectedly began to beat violently, uncontrollably.
"Fans... warriors... buzz... traffic..."
He muttered to himself, repeatedly chewing over these unfamiliar terms full of a futuristic sense on the tip of his tongue. With every taste, the astonishment in his eyes deepened by a degree.
Standing to the side, Suzuki Kiyoto—this veteran who had struggled for the greater half of his life at Kanto TV—currently resembled an elementary schooler encountering calculus for the first time. Written all over his face was pure bewilderment and... a profound powerlessness of being struck head-on by the torrent of an era.
"I... I actually find myself somewhat unable to understand."
He smiled bitterly and shook his head, his voice carrying a desolation stemming from his marrow: "What does 'selling a Sense of Participation' mean? What does 'anti-fans are also Traffic' mean? Hiroshi-kun, these things you speak of... I feel they are not from the same world as the television I've been filming for thirty years at all."
"Because we indeed are no longer in the same world, Suzuki-senpai."
Nohara Hiroshi's tone was calm: "What you inhabit is the unidirectional transmission era of 'I speak, you listen.' Whereas what I am about to initiate is the interactive era of 'I speak, you curse, he praises, and we all revel together'."
"This, this, this..." This made Suzuki Kiyoto feel even more as if struck by lightning, his entire person freezing right there."Oh!?" Asumi, however, abruptly raised his head. Erupting from his eyes was a scorching heat bordering on greed!
Although he also didn't fully understand, he had, after all, held a leadership position for a very long time.
Asumi was extremely clear about one thing.
A new era...
Was destined to have people eating until their mouths dripped with oil, eating until they were full to bursting, and even leaving their names in history.
Gaining both fame and wealth!
Furthermore, after carefully calculating Nohara Hiroshi's words just now, Asumi's voice trembled slightly from excitement: "Hiroshi-kun, that one hundred million yen championship reward you mentioned... I just roughly calculated it. Merely by cooperating with the Nippon Telegraph and Telephone Corporation to open up the premium-rate telephone voting channels, our share of the profits alone will likely exceed that amount! This... this is simply a highly profitable business with minimal investment!"
"More than just highly profitable with minimal investment." Nohara Hiroshi chuckled lightly.
Within that smile was carried a bit of superiority—a Dimensional Strike against the business models of this era: "Deputy Bureau Chief Asumi, what you have seen is merely the tip of the iceberg. Wait until the 'Fan Cheering Squad' model matures, wait until those 'warriors' fighting for the honor of their hometowns finish assembling. The commercial value capable of being generated around this IP will be an astronomical figure you cannot imagine."
"From the sale of support merchandise to the offline tickets for the regional finals;
from the endorsement income of the contestants to the potential future personal variety shows belonging to the champion... this, is a true entertainment empire capable of self-generation of blood and self-circulation."
And this, was the Fandom culture from his previous life in China that had matured to the point where countless people rotted within it!
Silence.
Deathly silence.
Asumi and Suzuki Kiyoto stared blankly at the young man before them.
They felt that their brains—two professional brains full of traditional television "ironclad rules" and "experience"—were thoroughly pulverized into dust in this moment by an even more primal, even purer, powerful force called "capital"!
They finally understood that this young man, he simply wasn't producing a program.
He was directing an unprecedented, massive commercial experiment taking the entirety of Japan as the stage and one hundred and twenty million citizens as actors!
...
This raging fire named the "One Hundred Million Yen Dream"—personally ignited by Nohara Hiroshi—burned across the entire Japanese archipelago with an unrivaled prairie-fire momentum by the second day.
From the snow-covered Sapporo in Hokkaido to the sweltering Fukuoka on the island of Kyushu;
from the bustling and noisy Osaka on the island of Honshu to the tranquil and quaint Takamatsu on the island of Shikoku...
The eight major geographic regions of the nation of Japan seemed to be ignited by this sudden, fervent fanaticism overnight!
"Did you hear? That Kasou Taishou on TV Tokyo actually has a championship prize of one hundred million yen!"
"One hundred million?! My god! This... isn't this more exaggerated than hitting the lottery jackpot?!"
"It's more than just prize money! Didn't you guys read the newspaper? This time is a regional confrontation tournament! If our Hokkaido can win, we can viciously trample beneath our feet those guys from Tokyo with their eyes higher than their heads!"
"Exactly! Why should all the good things go to those Kanto people? This time, we people from the northeast must show them what true creativity is!"
This regional fire that had been suppressed for hundreds of years, catalyzed by the simplest and crudest fuel of "one hundred million yen," instantly burned into a raging inferno capable of swallowing everything!
The audition registration points in major cities were thoroughly crushed by the crowds!
In front of the registration booth in Shinsaibashi, Osaka, the line stretched to the point where the end couldn't be seen at a single glance. That scene was even more explosive than the annual Tenjin Festival.
A middle-aged uncle wearing a Hanshin Tigers baseball uniform and face paint was spraying saliva toward the camera, using a heroic tone full of the Kansai dialect to deliver his "declaration of expedition": "We people of Osaka have comedy engraved in our bones! For this championship, besides us, who else could it be?!"
And behind him, countless similarly extravagantly dressed, highly imaginative citizens of Osaka were shouting in unison that support slogan that had already resounded throughout the entire Kansai region—
"Soul of Naniwa, numbers one in the world!"
This fanaticism spread rapidly like a plague that could not be extinguished.
Countless ordinary people were thoroughly ignited by that reward full of temptation and that massive sense of honor of "I, too, can win glory for my hometown"!
For a time, all of Japan seemed to fall into a civilian performance art carnival full of dark humor.
...
Meanwhile, inside that Production Department at Kanto TV that had long been forgotten by everyone, the atmosphere was as tense as a pre-war command room.
"It's coming! It's coming! The Viewership Ratings are out!"
A young data analyst looked at the curve skyrocketing on the computer screen like riding a rocket, his voice full of unbelievable trembling.
Suzuki Kiyoto's heart instantly leaped into his throat.
He stared fixedly at the screen. In those eyes that had long been tormented somewhat turbid by reports and meeting minutes was written full of apprehension and anticipation.
"How much?" His voice was dry.
"Broke... broke 15%!"
"Nani?!"
The entire control room instantly erupted in a burst of irrepressible exclamation!
15%!
An afternoon timeslot program edited together from a "loser's compilation," the Viewership Rating actually... actually reached 15%?!
This was no longer a simple success;
this was a miracle sufficient to make all of Kanto Station go crazy!
However, this was not the end.
"It... it rose again! 17%! 18%! My god! Department Manager! It... it's still rising!"
The data analyst's voice had completely changed pitch. It was the purest reverence stemming from the depths of the soul produced after witnessing a true miracle!
Finally, when the very last frame of the program froze, and that freshly baked final Viewership Ratings report was delivered into Suzuki Kiyoto's hands, he looked at that glaring number on it—enough to make a heart stop beating—and his entire person froze in place, as if struck by lightning.
20.1%.
"..."
The entire control room plunged into a deathly silence.
Everyone was like being choked fiercely by an invisible hand, unable to speak a single word.
They stared blankly at that number. On those faces, only undisguised, bottomless astonishment remained.
This was too terrifying!.
Using a god-like method that all of them completely could not comprehend, yet had to bow down to in worship.
...
This Viewership Ratings storm full of anti-common sense stirred up by the Kasou Taishou Audition Version spread at a speed far faster than anyone could imagine.
While the interior of TV Tokyo was still trembling over this astonishing data, this shockwave had already crossed regional boundaries, viciously crashing into the faces of those competitors who were Watching the Fire from Across the River.
Osaka, Kansai TV.
"20.1%?! A program edited from rejected clips?! In that garbage timeslot of Kanto Station?!"
Deputy Bureau Chief of Production Waya Ichiro looked at that Viewership Ratings report faxed over from Tokyo. He felt his heart was as if fiercely gripped by an invisible hand;
even breathing became difficult.
He thought of his "Anti-Nohara Hiroshi Alliance" that had been full of dark humor back then.
Thought of his confident "encirclement and annihilation" declaration.
Thought of his disdain toward "amateur variety shows," full of the superiority of a professional.
At this moment...
It was thoroughly pulverized into dust by that terrifying number of 20.1%!
One must know.
They themselves hadn't even figured out 'Urban Legends' yet!
And now, Nohara Hiroshi had started concocting this kind of thing.
Wasn't this going a bit too far?!
"Monster... that guy... he simply isn't playing the same game as us..." He muttered to himself. In that voice was full of the powerlessness and reverence stemming from his marrow produced after being crushed by absolute strength.
He finally understood that his so-called "Alliance," before that young man's absolute talent capable of subverting an era, was nothing more than a ridiculous joke full of dark humor.
"Plop—"
He could no longer hold on. This man who had summoned the wind and called the rain in the Osaka television industry for half his life fell heavily onto that leather chair symbolizing power like a puddle of mud.
On that face that was always full of irritability and unwillingness, all expressions had faded, leaving only a deathly pale, like ashes, of being thoroughly defeated.
...
TV Tokyo, Production Bureau Headquarters Building, Staff Cafeteria.
Lunch break, which should have been a moment of brief respite for this precision machine called a television station, currently resembled a fish pond into which a depth charge had been dropped, undercurrents surging everywhere.
No one was talking and laughing loudly. Everyone had subconsciously lowered their voices, gathering in twos and threes, using a volume bordering on whispering to exchange glances, sharing that astonishment sufficient to make hearts stop beating.
And the center of all their topics, without exception, pointed toward that existence on the seventeenth floor that had now become like a "holy land" for the entire Production Bureau—[Nohara Hiroshi - Independent Production Department].
"Did you watch it? That Audition Version on Kanto Station the day before yesterday?"
"I watched it! How could I not watch it! My wife and kids were glued to the TV, laughing so hard they nearly brought the roof down!"
"Tell me about it! That uncle with the cardboard box, he is simply my fountain of joy! When I came to work today, my head was still full of images of him falling spread-eagle!"
"This is what's most terrifying!" A rather senior data analyst wearing glasses lowered his voice. That gaze was like looking at a monster that couldn't be comprehended by common sense: "Do you guys know? I purposely observed on the train this morning, everyone was quietly discussing Kasou Taishou! This is no longer a simple variety show;
this is a carnival for all citizens!"
"This truly is a project program known to all citizens now!" Everyone around subconsciously gasped.
"What I fail to understand the most is his 'nationwide auditions'." A Section Chief responsible for program planning furrowed his brows, pure confusion written all over his face: "I calculated the accounts. Setting up audition registration points simultaneously in eight major regions nationwide, and also organizing such large-scale offline support activities, the promotional funds thrown into this from start to finish must be several hundred million yen, right? This... this is simply burning money! With this money, wouldn't the effect be better if we invited a few top-tier idol stars to make an appearance?"
"Who knows? Perhaps... this is the difference between a genius and us ordinary mortals."
Everyone exchanged glances, seeing a marrow-deep reverence toward the unknown in each other's eyes.
They didn't dare speak recklessly either.
After all, this was a project specially approved by Deputy Bureau Chief Asumi, and reportedly even Bureau Chief Sakata Nobuhiko had agreed to it.
They felt that the young man named Nohara Hiroshi simply wasn't playing cards according to the rules of this industry.
He was creating rules in a manner they completely could not comprehend.
...
Executive Deputy Director's Office, wreathed in smoke.
Takada Toshihide's face, which always carried somewhat of a gloom, was currently so gloomy it seemed water could drip from it.
He stared fixedly at the latest public opinion report on the desk. On it, every positive entry regarding Kasou Taishou was like a red-hot steel needle, viciously stabbing into his eyeballs.
Yasui Takashi and Ito Choan, these two Tokyo Faction variety show aces, had also long lost their arrogance and confidence from back then.
Like two defeated roosters, they sat dejectedly on the sofa with their heads hung low. On those faces was written the bewilderment and lack of understanding after being repeatedly lashed by reality.
"I also can't understand it."
Confusion surfaced on Yasui Takashi's face: "What exactly does he want to do? Spending so much money, putting on such a grand spectacle, just to have a bunch of amateurs shouting slogans on the street? What... what's the point of this? Does he really think that relying on this childish 'regional confrontation' like playing house can shake our variety show empire that we've operated for decades?"
"Perhaps... his goal simply isn't to shake us." Ito Choan at the side said complexly: "I keep feeling that we... seem to have thought wrong right from the very beginning."
"What do you mean?" Yasui Takashi asked.
"I don't know." Ito Choan shook his head, saying: "I just feel the layout he has laid out is too large, too deep. What we see is perhaps... only the tip of the iceberg. His true objective perhaps simply doesn't lie within the variety show itself."
"Then where else could it be?" Yasui Takashi's voice carried a bit of irritation that even he himself hadn't realized.
"Perhaps, it's merely for promotion." Ito Choan pondered for a moment, giving an explanation that even he felt was somewhat far-fetched: "After all, besides the Kanto region, the television stations in other places operate independently. It's not easy for our TV Tokyo's programs to get good promotional resources from them. By him doing this, it's equivalent to using a 'curved route to save the nation' method to forcefully create sufficient buzz for his program in those places."
These words caused the brows of Takada Toshihide sitting at the head to furrow even deeper.
He naturally knew this was a possibility.
But his intuition told him that matters were absolutely not this simple.
That young man, every one of his chess moves was full of chillingly precise calculations.
This time, for him to expend such a massive price to lay down such an earth-shattering scheme, what he sought was absolutely more than just that little bit of promotion.
"Forget it."
A long while later, Takada Toshihide finally exhaled a long breath of stale air. Within that breath, there was an exhaustion and helplessness like A Hero in His Twilight Years.
He waved his hand, saying: "It's too late to say anything now. He has already gained momentum, and that old geezer Sakata is now protecting him as if he were his own son. We... cannot touch him for the time being."
However, looking at the two subordinates before him who had long lost all fighting spirit, he still consoled them in a low voice:
"Lie dormant. This is currently our period of weakness. You two, do your own programs well and stabilize the fundamental base. Do not take the initiative to provoke him again. Wait... wait for him to make a mistake himself!"
"Hai," Yasui Takashi and Ito Choan responded listlessly.
They knew they had already lost this war.
At least, in the short term, with the variety shows they were currently directing only hovering around a 20% Viewership Rating, they had already lost all possibility of turning the tables.
After all, even the currently hot-broadcasting Kasou Taishou Audition Version on Kanto Station had reached a 20% Viewership Rating.
So how could they fight?
Takada Toshihide ignored these two aces who had already sunk into depravity, pressing the button for the internal phone.
"Have Iwata roll in here."
Quickly, a silhouette appeared at the office doorway like a ghost.
It was Iwata Masao.
He had long lost his arrogance and flamboyance from back then, his entire person thinning by a size. In those eyes that had once been full of ambition, currently only remained an emptiness and numbness after being entirely crushed by reality.
"Deputy Bureau Chief... you were looking for me..." His voice was hoarse, full of subservience.
Takada Toshihide didn't look at him, merely tossing a document in front of him.
Printed on it in bold black letters was a highly tempting title—[New Year's Eve Slot - A-Class Movie Project].
"This is a project I negotiated." Takada Toshihide's voice was flat, making it impossible to discern joy or anger: "A period action film. Budget, three hundred million."
"Boom——!"
This news was like a clap of thunder, viciously striking Iwata Masao's heart, blowing up monstrous waves!
A two hundred million budget!
This... this is simply...
He blankly stared at the document. In his hollow eyes, for the first time, a faint light as weak as a will-o'-the-wisp reignited.
"Dep... Deputy Bureau Chief... you... you mean..." He stuttered, asking in a tone bordering on sleep-talking.
"TV dramas, variety shows, we cannot outplay him for the time being."
Takada Toshihide slowly stood up and walked before him, extending his hand and heavily patting his still slightly trembling shoulder. That voice was as soft as the devil's whisper, yet carried a cruelty sufficient to make anyone feel a chill.
"But, movies... are another world."
"That brat, no matter how formidable he is, it's impossible that he even knows how to shoot movies, right?"
He looked at Iwata Masao. In those cold eyes sparked a heart-palpitating madness.
"Iwata, this is your last chance."
"Use this movie to tell everyone, to tell that brat who doesn't know the immensity of heaven and earth, that before true art belonging to the silver screen, those unpresentable little tricks of his are so utterly vulnerable!"
"Go."
"Use the Box Office to earn back the face we lost, bit by bit, for me."
Iwata Masao stared blankly at this man before him who had extended an olive branch to him once again. On his already numb face, all expressions had faded, leaving only a decisiveness of Breaking the Cauldrons and Sinking the Boats.
He knew he already had no way of retreat.
He would no longer be a simple errand boy.
He would be the most important general charging into enemy lines in this desperate counterattack belonging to the Tokyo Faction...
"Please rest assured, Deputy Bureau Chief."
He bowed deeply to Takada Toshihide, his voice hoarse, bordering on mournful: "I, will absolutely not, let you down again."
Takada Toshihide looked at his appearance, a satisfied, demon-like smile finally revealing itself on his face: "Don't be in a rush to thank me first;
I still have a matter to hand over to you to handle."
"Please speak." Iwata Masao immediately nodded.
"The male lead has already been decided upon, including the female lead. Someone will contact you when the time comes."
Takada Toshihide spoke faintly, his tone carrying an absolutely unquestionable command: "The performance fee given to the male lead is one hundred million yen;
the female lead is eighty million yen. The rest is for you to shoot the movie. Do you understand my meaning?"
Iwata Masao was slightly taken aback, his gaze flickering. However, at this time he already had no other choice, merely lowering his head and bowing as he said:
"Hai!"