novelraw Chapter 125: President Misae's Office Coercion! Demon Hiroshi!
Chapter 125: President Misae's Office Coercion! Demon Hiroshi!
Akita Prefecture, Omagari City.
When that brand-new Toyota Land Cruiser, like a steel behemoth stained with the dust and clamor of the city, slowly drove into the plain courtyard of the Nohara household, the dust it kicked up seemed to carry a trace of impatience that didn't belong to this land.
With a "bang," the car door was roughly slammed shut. Nohara Ginnosuke, his face dark as a mobile glaring Vajra, jumped down from the car.
He didn't even bother to greet his eldest son who was parking the car behind him, walking straight into that old Japanese-style house full of the traces of time.
"Preposterous!"
He pulled open the refrigerator door, took out a can of chilled Asahi beer from inside, pulled the tab with a "pop," and tipped his head back to gulp down more than half of it. The cold liquid slid down his throat, yet failed to extinguish the nameless fire in his heart in the slightest.
Nohara Semashi parked the car well and carried several boxes of side dishes purchased from a convenience store in the city, his face equally full of helplessness and aggrievedness.
He placed the plastic boxes containing edamame and fried chicken pieces onto the low table in front of his old dad, then crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. Written all over his dark face was also the flush of sulking.
"Oh my, what's wrong with the two of you?"
Nohara Tsuru, the stabilizing pillar of the Nohara household, was walking out from the kitchen carrying a plate of cut, chilled watermelon.Looking at the appearance of the two men of her family, one old and one young, looking as if they had been betrayed by the entire world, confusion surfaced on her face that constantly wore a gentle smile.
"Weren't you going to the city to participate in that whatever... audition, to give Ikuna a surprise? Why didn't Ikuna come back with you guys, and instead, each of you is pulling a long face?"
These words of hers precisely pierced Nohara Semashi's already fragile heart like a needle.
His dark face instantly flushed the color of pork liver. He craned his neck, entirely unable to speak a single word.
Upon seeing her eldest son's reaction, Nohara Tsuru's heart instantly gave a "thump," and her motherly heart instantly leaped into her throat: "Semashi, you... you couldn't possibly have quarreled with Ikuna, right?"
"I didn't!" Nohara Semashi practically roared it out, subsequently realizing his loss of composure. He hastily lowered his voice, which was full of grievance, "I... I simply didn't go pick her up today."
After he finished speaking, he cast a helpless, pleading gaze toward the Initiator who was currently drinking alone and sulking: "Mom, stop asking me, ask Dad! Ask him what good deeds he did outside today!"
"Hm?" Nohara Tsuru's gaze, like two gentle yet piercing searchlights, landed upon her husband.
After all, Nohara Tsuru knew that her old companion had designed a farmer's idea to participate.
Even if the outcome of the competition wasn't good, it didn't matter.
After all, it was just an audition.
Just for fun.
"Ah... that... that..." Being looked at made Nohara Ginnosuke feel somewhat guilty, but his heart full of the pride of an "artist" did not allow him to bow his head just like this.
He heavily slammed the beer can onto the table, lifted his neck, and spoke resonantly in a tone full of the grief and indignation of an unrecognized talent: "Hmph! Those guys simply don't recognize goods! They simply don't understand what art is! What avant-garde is! What expressionism is!"
"I told them, the thinking of the young people nowadays is too conservative! Not open at all! Not humorous at all! Our nation of Japan should learn from our great ally, America! Learn their free and unrestrained spirit! That way, our country can truly become strong!"
This impassioned speech full of grand narrative thoroughly stopped Nohara Tsuru in her tracks.
She blinked those clear eyes and cautiously tested the waters: "So... you went to participate in the audition for that Kasou Taishou today, and lost?"
"Although I lost, that's their failure to recognize goods! They don't understand art!"
As soon as this was mentioned, Nohara Ginnosuke instantly gained energy. All the resentment on that old face faded, replaced by a childish flaunting and excitement.
This was also his deliberate change of topic.
"Tsuru, you just didn't see it! That scene, simply!" He gestured wildly with his hands and feet. In those small eyes flashed the light of someone who hadn't seen the world: "A sea of people! Deafening sound of gongs and drums! Even livelier than our festivals here! Let me tell you, the young people in our Omagari City nowadays, every single one of them is truly extraordinary! That creativity, tsk tsk tsk, truly is... truly is..."
He racked his brains for a long time, ultimately borrowing a trendy vocabulary word from his promising youngest son.
"Truly is... absolute!"
He described with great animation those comical performances full of whimsical ideas at the audition scene, from the salaryman using his body to mimic the "Shinkansen entering the station," to the housewife using pots, bowls, ladles, and basins to perform a "symphony." That heartfelt amazement and fondness overflowed in his words.
Nohara Tsuru also listened with a face full of yearning. In those gentle eyes brimmed curiosity toward city life: "Oh my, hearing you say this, it seems really quite interesting. Semashi ah, next time, you bring Mom to the city to take a look too, okay? I also want to go experience it."
"En!" Nohara Semashi nodded heavily. On that dark face surfaced a trace of guilt toward his mother.
He then remembered, it seemed... he really hadn't taken his mother to play in the city much.
"Next time I also want to go!" Upon hearing this, Nohara Ginnosuke immediately leaned in again. He proudly puffed out his chest, those two thick eyebrows twitching up and down: "When that time comes, I'll be a celebrity! Maybe when walking on the street, people will even ask me for autographs!"
"Dad! Can you quickly state the main point!" Nohara Semashi's old face once again flushed the color of pork liver. He felt that his entire face for the whole day had nearly been completely lost by this unreliable old dad of his.
"Main point? What main point?" Nohara Ginnosuke possessed a face full of blankness.
Subsequently, he also knew he couldn't hide it.
Thus, as if remembering something, he fiercely slapped his thigh. On that old face surfaced the grievance of an artistic attainment being misunderstood.
"Isn't it just... isn't it just me performing our Nohara family's ancestral elephant dance, full of masculinity?!"
"..."
The entire Japanese-style room seemed to have the mute button pressed on it.
The smile on Nohara Tsuru's face instantly congealed.
She slowly, slowly turned her head to look at Nohara Ginnosuke. On that face that consistently wore a gentle smile, all expressions had vanished, leaving only a profound gloominess, like dark clouds pressing down on the city before the arrival of a storm.
In the air permeated a suffocatingly terrifying aura named "murderous intent."
Nohara Semashi subconsciously shrank his neck, silently picked up the watermelon in front of him, and slipped into the kitchen, pretending he hadn't heard anything.
Meanwhile, that Nohara Ginnosuke, still immersed in his "artistic world," hadn't the slightest perception of the descent of danger.
"I told them, this is the symbol of strength and courage for the men of our Nohara family! It's full of vitality..."
Smack!
Before he could finish those wolfish words full of pink fantasies, an iron fist belonging to a housewife, full of fury, severely smashed onto the back of his head, carrying the sound of wind!
Following that, those two hands, like a pair of ruthless iron pincers, firmly grabbed onto his temples and began to crazily ravage them back and forth in a highly rhythmic manner!
"Ouch! Ouch! Tsuru! Pain, pain, pain! I was wrong! I really was wrong! Let go quickly!"
"You disrespectful old geezer! You actually... you actually performed that kind of low-class thing in front of so many people?! You... you've completely thrown away the face of our Nohara family!"
Nohara Tsuru's voice was full of trembling from overwhelming humiliation and anger. In those eyes that were always as gentle as water currently burned karmic fire sufficient to incinerate everything.
Mournful screams, mixed with the woman's roar full of suppressed fury, once again echoed in that tranquil afternoon in Omagari City, Akita Prefecture.
In the kitchen, Nohara Semashi silently gnawed on a watermelon, listening to that familiar "symphony" in the living room. On that dark face surfaced a helpless expression bridging crying and laughing.
He knew the true reason he hadn't been able to bring Ikuna home today simply wasn't because of that competitor who drove a sedan.
But rather because, he really... really didn't have the courage to let that wonderful, angel-like girl witness his old dad's unreliable situation.
Especially that shameful performance scene!
"Sigh..."
Nohara Semashi exhaled a breath.
...
[Nohara Hiroshi - Independent Production Department]
Department Manager's Office.
Nohara Hiroshi sat upright behind the massive desk. The manuscript papers before him piled up like mountains;
every single sheet seemed like a world, waiting for him to bestow it with a soul using the tip of his pen.
The complete Storyboards for the first ten chapters of Doraemon lay quietly on his left-hand side.
Those rounded lines and art style full of childlike innocence seemed capable of penetrating the paper, transporting one back to those carefree childhood summer days, full of infinite reverie for the future.
While on his right-hand side, were the first five chapters of the Midnight Diner manga.
There were no Earth-Shaking waves within it, yet it permeated with a lonely yet warm Vitality of Life belonging to urban night wanderers.
Every story, like a cup of warm sake, was sufficient to comfort any exhausted soul.
His Pager lay quietly to the side, blinking with a message from Akita Prefecture.
To his old dad Nohara Ginnosuke's "nonsense" of running off to participate in the auditions, he merely smiled helplessly and didn't interfere much.
He knew that purest joy originating from ordinary people alone was exactly the soul of this program, Kasou Taishou.
As for his sister-in-law Koyama Musae being "accidentally" eliminated in the Kumamoto Prefecture finals, that was entirely within his control.
That showbiz circle full of glamour and temptation was actually a dark forest that swallowed purity—an absolute restricted area he had drawn out for his family members.
His wings were sufficient to shelter them for a lifetime of worry-free living;
there was no need to go to that Asura's arena and be tainted by dirty dust.
...
"Finished drawing."
As the final stroke fell, Nohara Hiroshi exhaled a long breath.
He stood up, tidied up those two stacks of manuscripts sufficient to once again kick up monstrous waves in the manga industry, put them into his briefcase, and then strode out of this divine kingdom belonging to him.
Future Comic Club.
This small office building located near TV Tokyo possessed an entirely new look at this moment.
In the public studio on the first floor, seven or eight young girls sat upright. They were either verifying financial statements or organizing HR files. Everyone wore appropriate professional suits, carrying a solemnity of having been entrusted with great responsibility on their faces.
Seeing Nohara Hiroshi's figure appear, they almost simultaneously stood up from their seats and bowed deeply to him.
"Hello, Department Manager Nohara~!"
That sound was crisp and pleasant to the ears, full of reverence and worship stemming from their hearts.
They knew this overly young man before them was not only their President's lover, but also the legendary existence who had relied purely on his own power to stir the winds and clouds of the entire Japanese television industry.
"En, hello."
Nohara Hiroshi smiled and nodded, handing the manuscripts in his hand to one of the girls who looked the most capable: "Scan and archive these, then notify President Misae that I've arrived."
"Hai!"
Not long after, the door to the President's office on the second floor was pushed open.
A beautiful figure walked out.
Koyama Misae wore a tailored off-white Chanel professional suit, her soft long hair neatly pinned behind her head. Her pretty face carried a bit of charming naivete.
Yet between her brows, an additional layer of a workplace elite's confidence was present.
She was no longer that girl needing shelter, but the sole Queen Majesty of this newborn kingdom!
This appearance, however, was something Nohara Hiroshi had never seen before.
En.
Nohara Hiroshi felt the stirrings of desire.
Misae walked up to Nohara Hiroshi. In those large, obsidian-like eyes, all the solid ice instantly melted away, leaving only the purest attachment and gentleness for her lover.
"You're here."
She naturally looped her arm through his, guiding him into that equally spacious and bright President's office.
"How is it? My stint as President can be considered qualified, right?" Misae playfully spun in a circle, a posture like a little queen eager to display the fruits of her governance to her monarch.
"Very qualified." Nohara Hiroshi smiled and pulled her into his embrace, lightly printing a kiss on that bright and clean forehead: "My Misae, was born to do great things."
"My my, let's talk about proper business first!" In his embrace, Misae also started to report on recent work:
"Over at Shueisha, Mister Tadokoro simply treats us like the God of Wealth. He says Editor-in-Chief Torishima has already issued a death order—as long as it's a manuscript produced by our 'Future Comic Club', it skips review entirely and goes straight to the best recommendation spot in Jump! He also said, as long as the quality of Doraemon can be maintained, they will immediately release a tankobon (standalone volume) next month. The Royalties... they're offering the top-tier author standard of the industry!"
"En, expected." Nohara Hiroshi merely nodded calmly.
Now his status was also extraordinary.
Perhaps in the future...
Shueisha would even need to collaborate with him!
"Also..."
Misae also talked quite a bit about the progress at Future Comic Club.
Then her tone suddenly dropped a few notches. A layer of disappointment clouded those pretty large eyes: "That child Musae, called me yesterday and cried for a very long time. She said she clearly felt she performed very well, so why was she still eliminated in the finals. She... she seems to truly enjoy the feeling of being on stage."
Nohara Hiroshi fell silent for a moment. He cupped Misae's small face, a bit more solemnity in those clear eyes:
"Misae, what kind of place do you feel the showbiz circle is?"
"Eh?" Misae was stunned.
"There, is a battlefield without visible smoke, an Asura's arena built from fame, fortune, and desire."
Nohara Hiroshi's voice was calm, yet carried a chill that made one shudder: "A small-town girl without any background, forcefully entering by relying on a bit of beauty and naiveté;
what do you think awaits her?"
"It's countless unspoken rules, it's omnipresent schemes, it's the gazes full of greed and desire cast toward her by wolves wearing human skin. I don't want Musae to experience those things. I would rather she simply be an ordinary, joyful girl for her entire life."
These words were like a basin of ice water poured over her head, thoroughly extinguishing that bit of unrealistic fantasy in Misae's heart completely clean.
She stared blankly at Nohara Hiroshi, a kind of fear surfacing in those watery large eyes.
"I... I understand." She buried her small face into his chest, her voice carrying a trace of trembling from lingering fear.
If Musae truly stepped into it...
What difference was it from falling into a swamp?!
After all, there were also rumors about entertainers in Japan, even including some cruel endings exposed regarding certain female entertainers.
Now that Misae thought about it, she indeed felt that the seemingly glamorous entertainers were indeed incomparably filthy behind the scenes.
"Alright, let's not talk about these anymore." Nohara Hiroshi gently patted her back, like comforting a frightened kitten.
He lowered his head to look at this girl in his embrace who, despite wearing a professional suit, still found it hard to conceal her charming naivete and cuteness. In those calm eyes, an aggressive flame suddenly ignited.
"Speaking of which, President Misae." His voice lowered a few pitches, carrying a trace of magnetic huskiness: "I, as the investor, having finished inspecting my territory, shouldn't I... also collect a little, tiny return?"
"Ah! You... you're being improper again!" Misae's face went "swish" and turned red. She wanted to break free from his embrace, but was firmly imprisoned by a pair of large hands like iron pincers.
"This is... is the office..." Her voice was as soft as a mosquito's, full of bashful protest.
"I know." The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's lips hooked into a domineering curve: "That's why it's even more interesting, isn't it?"
Moreover, Nohara Hiroshi's tone paused slightly: "Misae."
At this time, Misae didn't expect Nohara Hiroshi to call her name. With a flushed face, she couldn't help but go limp in his embrace, her voice trembling: "Wh... what?"
On Nohara Hiroshi's face appeared an expression that seemed demonic. Leaning forward beside Misae's ear, toward that crystal-clear earlobe that had already turned completely red from shyness, he slowly exhaled a breath: "You also don't want to lose this job as President, right?"
Misae shuddered all over, lightly biting her lower lip as she looked at Nohara Hiroshi.
In the end, she still closed her eyes.
Lightly gave an 'En'.
This delicate and pretty appearance instantly made Nohara Hiroshi increasingly unable to endure it. He scooped her up into his arms horizontally and strode meteorically toward that wide President's desk, large enough to accommodate any wild imagination.
Outside the window, was the picture scroll of Tokyo's city that was so bustling it was suffocating.
Inside the window, was a two-person war belonging to a monarch and an empress, full of conquest and sinking.
This empire forged by his own hands, from the commercial to the emotional, he wanted to firmly grasp it within his own hands.
After all, Nohara Hiroshi had deliberately made arrangements right at the beginning when designing the President's office.
This President's office's distance from everyone's work area.
Was separated by a very long way over there!
Just as planned!