novelraw Chapter 162: Poor Public Opinion Environment? This Wave of Traffic is Exactly What's Needed!
Chapter 162: Poor Public Opinion Environment? This Wave of Traffic is Exactly What's Needed!
The lighting in the corridor was icy cold, projecting the lengthened shadows of the two onto the floor that was as smooth as a mirror, appearing twisted and miserable.
The color of blood on Yasui Takashi's face had long disappeared.
He subconsciously raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat seeping from his forehead, his voice dry: "He... he didn't even get angry. From beginning to end, he was dealing with it peacefully, even gently and composedly showing a smile. This... this is exactly the most terrifying part."
In Ito Choan's eyes, was similarly filled with lingering fear of surviving a disaster.
As the think tank of the Tokyo Faction, he was always known for his deep scheming and being adept at trying to figure out people's hearts.
But today, in front of that overly young man, he felt like a patient stripped naked and standing bare on an operating table. All his thoughts, all his calculations, were seen clearly by the other party's eyes that were so calm without the slightest ripple.
"Him holding a press conference is absolutely not just to clarify the public opinion!" In Ito Choan's voice carried a trace of unsuppressible trembling, "He definitely has other intentions! But... I don't know exactly what will happen."
This conclusion made Yasui Takashi's already suspended heart instantly sink to the bottom of the valley.
The two looked at each other speechlessly, their footsteps heavy as if filled with lead, step by step, walking towards that throne of power located at the very top of the entire floor.
Takada Toshihide's office. This number two figure of the Tokyo Faction was waiting for the two of them.
"Back?" His voice, was as flat as a bottomless pool of dead water, unable to hear joy or anger.
"Hai."
Yasui Takashi and Ito Choan came to sit on the sofa.
Ito Choan took a deep breath, and recounted everything that just happened in Asumi's office, originally and completely.
He didn't embellish the story, nor did he mix in any personal emotions. He merely used the most objective tone that could best reflect the severity of the problem, clearly presenting every reaction and every word of that young man before Takada Toshihide.
When he mentioned the "press conference", the air in the office seemed to be sucked dry in an instant.
Takada Toshihide then slowly turned around.
On that face of his that always carried a few parts of gloominess, at this moment was even more gloomy as if water could drip out.
But he didn't jump with rage as Yasui Takashi and Ito Choan had anticipated. He merely walked peacefully to the wine cabinet, poured himself half a glass of whiskey, and then, slowly sat down on that leather chair symbolizing power.
"Press conference..." He muttered to himself, his eyes flashing with sharp light: "Interesting. Looks like, I still underestimated him. I thought, he would choose to go cry to Asumi, or go complain to that old fox Sakata. Didn't expect, he actually... chose the most direct, and also the stupidest way."
"Deputy Director, your meaning is..." Ito Choan probed asking.
"He's too young." The corners of Takada Toshihide's mouth hooked up a touch of mockery: "Young people, are always easily blinded by victory, always thinking they are omnipotent, able to control everything. He thinks, with his glib tongue, he can turn the tables, can turn black into white? What does he take the media for? And what does he take himself for?"
He swirled the wine glass in his hand, that amber liquid shaking out a dangerous arc on the wall of the glass.
"He is seeking his own doom." Takada Toshihide's voice was like icy ice: "This fire of public opinion, once ignited, is not something that a mere Level 3 Director like him can control. The more he wants to explain, the more full of loopholes it will be. The more he wants to clarify, the more it will confirm that 'elitist' arrogance of his. When the time comes, without us even taking action, just the spit of those enraged commoners will be enough to thoroughly drown him, and that movie of his full of the stench of 'class'!"
Takada Toshihide understands public opinion very well.
"Then... then tomorrow, do we still have to go attend that press conference?" Yasui Takashi carefully asked.
"Go? Go do what?" Hearing this, Takada Toshihide sneered, that gaze like looking at two ignorant children: "Go see him make a fool of himself in public? No need for that. We are the victors, victors, only need to sit on the highest grandstand, leisurely sipping red wine, appreciating the loser's desperate, final struggles, and that's enough."
He paused, slowly issuing the final command.
"Tomorrow, you two, both honestly stay in the office for me. Nowhere to go. What we need to do, is wait. Wait to see how that kid, step by step, personally sends himself, to the guillotine."
"Hai!"
Yasui Takashi and Ito Choan both bowed together, in that voice, carrying a tacit understanding.
The two exchanged a look, and both saw a heartfelt cruelty from each other's eyes.
They seemed to have already seen, at that much-anticipated press conference tomorrow, how that young man who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth, under the long guns and short cannons of countless reporters, was asked until he was speechless, and finally, retreated miserably amidst a chorus of mockery and contemptuous boos.
After all, who said, they couldn't arrange reporters?
The two sensibly took their leave, and inside the office, once again restored that suffocating tranquility.
"Childish." Takada Toshihide slowly drank the whiskey in his cup in one gulp, the corners of his mouth revealing a proud smile not seen for a long time.
'Ring ring ring——'
The intercom phone on the desk rang inappropriately.
Takada Toshihide frowned, and picked up the phone.
On that end, came Iwata Masao's lowly and fawning voice.
"D... Deputy Director Takada, it's me, Iwata. D... didn't disturb your rest right?"
"Speak." Takada Toshihide's voice carried no emotion whatsoever.
"That... the movie... the filming of the movie, basically... has already all been completed." In Iwata Masao's voice, carried a trace of excitement like claiming credit: "Director Ashikaga and Director Asano, both said... the filming went very smoothly! Now, only the last few grand scene shots are left, estimated... in another two or three days, can be fully wrapped up!"
This news was like a gust of warm wind, finally blowing away the thick haze in Takada Toshihide's heart.
On his face that was always gloomy, finally surfaced a touch of increasingly satisfied smile.
Truly a succession of happy events!
"Very good." He nodded in satisfaction: "Iwata, this time, you did well. Didn't disappoint me."
This simple praise, yet made Iwata Masao on the other end of the phone, so excited he almost cried.
"It's all... it's all because of Deputy Director your excellent leadership! It's Director Ashikaga and Director Asano, commanding properly! I... I am just a person running errands, dare not claim credit! Dare not claim credit!"
"Hmph, you do have self-awareness." Takada Toshihide snorted coldly, but in that tone, the initial harshness was already gone: "Remember, these last few days, keep a close eye for me! Absolutely cannot have any mishaps! Especially those two leading actors, serve them well for me! Once the movie wraps up, immediately! At once! Edit out the final cut for me! I want to see in the shortest time, a masterpiece passed down through generations, sufficient to thoroughly crush that old fellow, and that kid who doesn't know the immensity of heaven and earth!"
"Hai! Hai! I understand! I definitely! Definitely will obey the arrangements of the two directors! Please rest assured!" Iwata Masao repeatedly agreed on the phone.
Hanging up the phone, the smile on Takada Toshihide's face became even more proud.
He slowly stood up, once again walking to that massive floor-to-ceiling window, overlooking that steel city at his feet, which had long been regarded as something in his pocket by him.
He seemed to have already seen, on the New Year's Eve in the near future, how that 'Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree' of his, full of gorgeousness and commercial elements, with an unrivaled posture, thoroughly crushes that 'Seven Samurai', full of poverty and controversy!
...
The filming set of 'Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree', at this moment was shrouded in a tense and exhausted atmosphere.
Inside the temporarily erected conference tent, smoke wreathed, choking people so they couldn't open their eyes.
Iwata Masao, this nominal general director of the movie, at this moment was like the most lowly servant, carefully adding boiling hot tea for those two true "Emperors Emeritus".
"Director Ashikaga, Director Asano, you two please drink tea." His posture was as humble as a newcomer just entering the workplace.
However, Ashikaga Takashi was too lazy to even lift his eyelids. He just impatiently waved his hand, that look, like shooing away an eyesore fly: "Put it there. Right, go call those extras outside over for me! Tell them, that last charge scene, if they run to the wrong position again for me, tonight, nobody will even think about eating!"
"And." Asano Takata at the side, also leisurely supplemented: "Go buy back all today's newspapers for me. Especially those third-rate entertainment tabloids, not a single copy can be missing. I actually really want to see, that kid surnamed Nohara, what he is being scolded like now."
"Hai! I'll go right away!" Iwata Masao didn't have the slightest hesitation, immediately agreeing, turning around and walking out of this center of power that had long not belonged to him.
He had long grown accustomed to all this.
From general director, to set manager, and then to now, the odd-job man responsible for pouring tea, pouring water, running errands and buying newspapers.
This massive gap, had long thoroughly crushed that already fragile self-esteem of his into fine powder.
But he endured it all.
Because he knew, this was his only chance to return to the gambling table.
He even had to endure those two unexcelled in arrogance leading actors who had long been spoiled by capital.
Whether it was Kamiki Shunsuke's humiliating requests of making him help massage and massage legs, or Kitagawa Miyuki making him go buy cosmetics late at night, he tried his best to fulfill them.
Because he knew he right now, was nothing more than a dog lingering on its last breath crawling at the feet of power and capital.
And a dog, is not qualified to talk about dignity.
When he hugged a large stack of newspapers still emitting the fresh fragrance of printing ink, and returned to that tent full of the vitality of life, the atmosphere inside, had long become incomparably relaxed.
"Hahahaha! You guys look at this! 'Shukan Bunshun'! They actually say, Nohara Hiroshi is 'Son of a Farmer, Someone Who Forgot His Roots'! I'm dying of laughter! This title, is simply... a stroke of genius ah!"
Kamiki Shunsuke, this "top idol" who just a moment ago was still in front of the camera, playing an affectionate samurai full of tragic colors, at this moment was like the most vicious woman, pointing at the humiliating title on the newspaper, laughing so hard he was trembling wildly.
That already somewhat feminine handsome face of his, at this moment slightly twisted because of schadenfreude, like an expensive drawing paper that had been crumpled.
"I already said, that guy, is nothing more than a country bumpkin with slightly better luck! Suddenly climbing to such a high position, how could his tail not stick up to heaven? Well now, caught by the media right? Serves him right! I gotta see, that press conference of his tomorrow, how he's gonna hold it! Probably going to cry his nose out in front of the entire Nippon right?"
This vicious mockery, like the most precise laughable bomb, instantly detonated the entire tent!
"Who says it isn't." Ashikaga Takashi also sneered, in that voice, full of superiority: "I already said, movies, are not something those TV guys like them can play around with! Especially this sensitive topic of 'class', that is even more a restricted area that cannot be touched! An amateur like him who doesn't even know the most basic industry rules, also dares to come over and boss around? Simply... seeking his own doom!"
"That's right!" Asano Takata also gloated and echoed: "I reckon ah, that so-called 'Seven Samurai' of his, now, probably has already become the laughingstock of the entire Nippon! When the time comes, without us even taking action, just the spit of those enraged commoners will be enough to thoroughly drown him, and that movie of his full of the stench of 'elitism'!"
Listening to the auras full of contempt and mocking laughter by his ears, Iwata Masao merely silently distributed those newspapers into everyone's hands.
In his heart however inexplicably birthed a trace of familiar unease.
He thought of that young man, thought of those eyes of his that, no matter what predicament he faced, were so calm without raising the slightest ripple.
Intuition told him, matters, perhaps... are not that simple.
"Alright, let's stop talking about that buzzkill guy."
Kamiki Shunsuke contentedly tossed that newspaper aside. He stood up, stretched his waist, that posture, like a Persian cat that had just eaten a full meal and was content.
"My scenes today are over, leaving first. The rest, leave it to you 'professionals'."
He said this while surrounded by a group of assistants, walking out of this filming set that had long been made foul-smelling by him without turning his head.
The black nanny van, like a ghost silently sliding into the never-ending traffic stream of Tokyo.
Inside the car, on Kamiki Shunsuke's handsome face, all the schadenfreude had faded, leaving only a piece of gloominess without the slightest temperature.
He slowly picked up that mobile phone exclusively belonging to him personally, skillfully dialing a number.
On the other end of the phone, came a voice full of flattery and fawning.
"Hello? Mr. Shunsuke? What instructions do you have?"
"Those newspapers, I saw." Kamiki Shunsuke's voice was cruel: "Done well. But... still not enough."
"Eh?"
"I want you, to make the fire burn even more vigorously." Kamiki Shunsuke's voice was like it was squeezed out from between his teeth, "I want the four words 'Nohara Hiroshi', to be thoroughly tied together with words like 'class', 'elite', 'forgetting roots'! I want him to become the common enemy of all 'commoners' in our entire Nippon society!"
"And..." He paused, in those passionate peach blossom eyes, flashing a heart-palpitating resentment like a poisonous snake: "Direct the artillery fire onto that unreleased 'Seven Samurai' of his! I want all the audiences to have developed the most deep-rooted disgust towards this movie even before walking into the cinema! I want it, and his movie, to thoroughly die in the cradle! "
"Only this way, can that 'Samurai of the Cherry Blossom Tree' of ours, during the New Year's Eve slot, under the situation of having no opponents, become the only, absolute, king of samurai films! Do you understand?!"
"Yes! Yes! This little one understands!" Opposite the mobile phone, that voice became even more flattering: "But the price..."
"Triple!" Kamiki Shunsuke sneered, then hung up the mobile phone.
What can be solved with money.
That is not a problem!
...
The next morning, TV Tokyo Studio 7 Foreign Release Hall.
Here, is one of the nerve centers of the entire Nippon media circle.
Ordinarily, only when the television station has major announcements, or top stars announcing marriage, will this palace-level venue capable of accommodating hundreds of reporters be used.
And today, this place is already overcrowded, as crowded as Shinjuku subway station during morning peak hours.
The air permeated a restlessness and oppression of the wind sweeping through the tower before a mountain storm.
"Hey, Senior Yamada, what do you think... today that Nohara Hiroshi, will use what posture to apologize?" A young reporter carrying a video camera, appearing to just have entered the industry not long ago, lowered his voice, asking the senior veteran beside him whose hair was already somewhat graying, using a tone full of schadenfreude.
The senior called Yamada just curled his lips disdainfully: "What other posture can there be? Nothing more than a ninety-degree bow first, bitterly crying and confessing his 'frivolous youth, inappropriate speech', and then facing the camera, weeping and wailing, pleading for the citizens' forgiveness. This routine, I've watched for almost thirty years, already tired of it."
"I actually think, just bowing, probably won't quell this civilian anger right?" Another reporter from the gossip magazine 'FRIDAY' opened his mouth: "The label of 'someone who forgot his roots', is a major taboo in our Nippon society! Especially him the son of a farmer, actually daring to say those kind of words! As I see it, today, if he doesn't do a 'dogeza', kneeling and kowtowing to apologize in front of the entire Nippon, this matter won't pass!"
"That's right! Must dogeza! Otherwise those of us from the countryside, will be the first to disagree!" In the crowd, a reporter speaking with a heavy regional accent, waved his fist indignantly.
The torrent of public opinion, had long thoroughly nailed that young man yet to appear, onto the pillar of shame named 'enemy of the class'.
However, within this clamor full of verbal castigation, there were also mixed some weak voices full of contradiction and struggle.
"But... I still find it a bit hard to believe." A female reporter who looked quite quiet, softly said to her companion beside her: "I... I am a loyal reader of 'YuYu Hakusho', also a hardcore fan of 'Tales of the Unusual'. From his works, what I saw, is clearly a gentle person full of humanistic care, holding the deepest sympathy for little characters ah... he... how could he be that kind of, ungrateful 'elite'?"
"Who knows." Her companion sighed helplessly: "People, always change. Perhaps, it's this vanity fair of Tokyo, that corrupted him right. However... to tell the truth, I feel quite uncomfortable in my heart too. His programs, are indeed good to watch. I only hope, today he can apologize properly. As long as he is willing to admit his mistake, I... I will still continue to support him."
This is the original sin of traffic.
When you stand under the spotlight, enjoying the pursuit of tens of thousands, you must also bear the risk of being bitten back by this power.
Of course Nohara Hiroshi understood this reasoning.
And also planned to use this rule!
In the rest room backstage, the atmosphere was solemn.
Asumi, paced back and forth in the not-so-spacious space, that Cuban cigar in his hand, had long been squeezed out of shape.
"Preposterous! Simply preposterous!"
He fiercely pressed that already extinguished cigar into the ashtray, in that voice full of unsuppressible rage: "Yasui Takashi! Ito Choan! These two bastards, actually dared to play missing with me! Not answering calls, not replying messages! Do they really think, I Asumi, can't do anything about them?!"
Kurosawa Eiji was like a silent volcano, sitting quietly on the sofa.
He didn't speak, but in those bloodshot eyes, burned monstrous rage!
The young man they had their eyes on.
A future of the Kanto Faction.
Now actually under their protection, was forced to the edge of the cliff by those people from the Tokyo Faction!
How could they possibly be calm?
How could they forgive?
How could they let those guys off!?
And beside them, those seven "samurai" who were just previously gagging around and laughing heartlessly on the variety show, right now also had long lost half a bit of mood for joking.
They each sat straight and proper, on those faces written full of solemnity of sharing a bitter hatred of the enemy.
"Manager, let us go on stage with you!" Makino Shunpei playing Kikuchiyo, was the first to stand up, on that face always bearing a few parts of untamable unruliness, at this moment written full of the hot blood and resoluteness belonging to young people: "This matter, started because of our 'Seven Samurai', it should be borne by all of us together! We'll go together with you! Face off with those bastard reporters! I want to see, to what extent they can still turn black into white!"
"That's right!" Trialed actor Miyoshi Taiji playing Kambei, also heavily nodded at this time: "Nohara-kun, you are not fighting alone. We, are your most solid backing."
"Hiroshi-kun." Asumi also stopped his footsteps, in his eyes only left the concern of an elder for a junior.
"Rest assured, I have arranged everything. Among the reporters present today, three are our people. I have already greeted them, later they will guide the rhythm of the questions in a direction favorable to us. You only need to... follow what we discussed beforehand, lower your posture a bit, sincerely apologize, pushing all the responsibility to 'frivolous youth' and 'malicious interpretation by media'. The rest, leave it to me to handle."
This arrangement full of "protective" meaning, like the gentlest warm current, slowly flowed through the hearts of everyone present.
However Nohara Hiroshi merely peacefully put down the teacup in his hand.
He slowly stood up, within those gazes full of concern and worry, bowing deeply to everyone.
"Deputy Director Asumi, Director Kurosawa, seniors."
His voice was gentle, yet full of power.
"Thank you all. But..."
He slowly straightened up, on that handsome face that was enough to make anyone jealous, blosommed a gentle smile full of confidence and composure again.
"This war, is mine alone. So, it should be me alone, to personally end it."
"Hiroshi-kun, you..." Asumi's eyebrows instantly twisted into the character 'Chuan' (川).
"Rest assured, Deputy Director." The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's mouth hooked up an arc of Wisdom Pearl in Hand, in those clear eyes, flashing an absolute light sufficient to convince anyone: "I have my own methods."
Saying this, he no longer had the slightest hesitation, turned around, pushing open that door leading to the center of the storm.
...
When that slender yet straight figure, appeared at the press conference site, the entire venue, seemed as if the mute button was pressed.
After a brief death-like silence, a torrent of camera flashes like a tsunami, accompanied by countless aggressive shutter sounds, instantly thoroughly submerged that young man!
That light was so dazzling it was sufficient to make anyone subconsciously close their eyes.
Nohara Hiroshi didn't even blink his eyes.
He merely peacefully, step by step, walked onto that trial stage that had long been prepared for him.
He stood still behind the speaking podium, his gaze peacefully sweeping past those faces below the stage that were either curious, contemptuous, or angry, and finally, landed on those countless lenses facing him.
He knew, behind these lenses, were thousands and millions of pairs of eyes waiting for his "confession".
This is also a live television broadcast.
"I know, everyone came today, wanting to hear my apology."
He didn't have the slightest politeness, the first sentence, was like the most precise bomb, instantly detonating the entire venue!
The reporters instantly became restless, countless questions full of traps, like raindrops, smashing across the face towards that young man!
"Manager Nohara! May I ask how do you respond to 'Shukan Bunshun' reporting you as 'someone who forgot his roots'?!"
"Do you admit, you indeed made remarks discriminating against 'commoners' in the program?!"
"As a farmer's son, don't you feel ashamed of the words you said?!"
However, facing this public opinion storm sufficient to make anyone with a bad psychological quality collapse on the spot, Nohara Hiroshi merely peacefully raised his hand, making a gesture of "be calm and do not be impatient".
That calmness and indifference, that bearing as if everything was in control, like a basin of ice water dumped over the head, actually miraculously made that noise that was already boiling over calm down.
"Everyone, please hear me out."
His voice wasn't loud, but clearly reached every corner of the venue.
"Regarding the recent public opinion issues, I am very sorry for causing trouble to everyone. But what I want to say is, all of us have been misled. We have all fallen into a massive thinking trap constructed by the word 'class'."
His tone shifted, in those clear eyes, flashing a profoundness belonging to a historical observer.
"We are always discussing samurai, discussing farmers. Discussing the so-called elites, discussing the so-called commoners. But we, ignored that ultimate, and also the only, protagonist that truly determined all their fates."
"That is, the era."
"The end of the samurai era, is not because they were not elite enough. But because the appearance of muskets allowed a well-trained farmer to easily kill a samurai who had practiced swordsmanship bitterly for twenty years. This is the victory of technology, the victory of productivity, the victory of the era."
"And the arrival of the commoner era, also didn't happen overnight. It evolved into our current國民 era, where everyone is equal, where everyone has the opportunity to change their own destiny. This, is likewise the progress of the era."
The grand narrative full of philosophical speculative meaning, like a thunderclap, fiercely struck the hearts of everyone present!
The reporters were all dumbfounded.
They came to hear gossip, to watch a show, to judge a "someone who forgot his roots".
But right now this young man, is giving them a public lesson on "historical materialism"?!
This... is this picture style a bit amiss?!
"Manager Nohara! Please don't secretly substitute concepts, speaking vaguely to avoid the issue anymore!"
Finally, that reporter from 'FRIDAY' was the first to react. He violently stood up from his seat, on that face hidden behind the black-framed glasses written full of angry humiliation from being played with!
"What we want to know, is not some bullshit 'era'! We only want to know, you! Nohara Hiroshi! Did you personally say, farmers 'cunning, stingy, are murderous demons'?! Did you, from the marrow of your bones, look down on us, ordinary citizens?!"
This question, like a dagger soaked in deadly poison, accurately stabbed towards Nohara Hiroshi's seemingly flawless armor of theory!
Everyone's gaze, again focused on that young man's body!
They gotta see, this time, how he is going to quibble further!
However, under this gaze full of hostility and scrutiny, the corners of Nohara Hiroshi's mouth, slowly hooked up a brilliant smile full of playfulness, like a child whose prank succeeded.
"That's right."
He peacefully, spat out these two words, sufficient to make the entire Nippon earthquake.
"I indeed said it."
Boom——!
The entire venue instantly exploded!
The reporters were like a school of sharks smelling blood, thoroughly descending into madness!
He admitted it!
He actually, really admitted it!
However, before their shutter sounds full of wild joy, thoroughly immortalized this "heaven-shaking scandal", Nohara Hiroshi's unhurried, magnetic voice, slowly rang out again.
"But, so what?"
He looked at those faces below the stage that were long thoroughly stunned by these shocking remarks of his, the smile on his face becoming even more brilliant.
"Because, all this, actually is just a small, Easter egg I meticulously prepared for everyone, to promote my new movie."
"..."
Easter egg?!
The entire world seemed to have been pressed the mute button.
Everyone stared blankly at that young man, on those faces, leaving only a deep numbness and... absurdity after having their worldviews repeatedly crushed by a heavy hammer!
They... what did they hear?!
This public opinion storm sweeping the entire Nippon that they personally stirred up, in the end, actually... actually was just a trap set by the other party to promote a movie?!
Backstage, Asumi and Kurosawa Eiji similarly stood blankly on the spot, in those two pairs of eyes that had seen countless worldly vicissitudes, written full of unbelievable shock!
They looked at that young man in the monitor, who with the power of one person, played the entire Nippon media in the palm of his hand.
A word suddenly appeared in their two hearts that had long been honed as solid as a rock by countless power struggles.
"The younger generation is to be feared!"
Being able to methodically speak reasoning so logically in such a public opinion environment, and taking the opportunity to start promoting his own movie.
This mentality, this wisdom, this ability...
Simply better than many sly old dogs!
"So, everyone."
And Nohara Hiroshi's performance was not yet over. He looked at those petrified faces below the stage, slowly opening his arms, that posture like a magician about to reveal the final answer to the world.
He loudly said:
"Today's press conference, was never an apology meeting."
"But the official press conference for my, Nohara Hiroshi's, first movie in life —— 'Seven Samurai'!"
He gave no promises, nor any superfluous explanations.
He merely peacefully watched those countless icy lenses, in those clear eyes, flashing an absolute confidence sufficient to convince anyone!
"I, Nohara Hiroshi, today, right here, use all the reputation accumulated by all my past works, to make a guarantee to the audience of the entire Nippon."
"December 24th, Christmas Eve, please walk into the cinema."
"All answers about 'class', about 'era', about 'humanity', about 'whether a farmer's son has forgotten his roots'..."
He paused, under those countless gazes whose curiosity had long been completely detonated by him, word-by-word, clearly saying:
"——are all in, this movie."
Wow——!
The entire venue, thoroughly erupted in uproar!
This is no longer simple propaganda!
This is a declaration of war!
It is that young man forced to the edge of the cliff by them, launching a final declaration of war full of huge gambit meaning, towards them, towards the entire Nippon society!
Win, then he becomes a god in one step, thoroughly establishing his unshakable status in this era!
Lose, then his reputation gets ruined, never to turn over again for eternity!
This young man, actually when everyone wanted to know the result of the public opinion, used strong-arm tactics, conducting a great promotion, and... a game belonging to the strong, for cowards!
PS: Today three chapters, some minor mistakes was because writing made me dizzy. But all corrected. Still begging for some recommendation tickets and monthly tickets~
(End of Chapter)