novelraw Chapter 196: Conspiracy! The Tokyo City Mayoral Election! The Founding of Tokyo City TV!
Chapter 196: Conspiracy! The Tokyo City Mayoral Election! The Founding of Tokyo City TV!
The night draped itself over Shinjuku's cloud-piercing skyscrapers like a vast swath of velvet soaked in ink and dusted with gold.
Inside the private club on the top floor of Kirin Group headquarters — closed to the public — the air hung thick with the rich, slightly peppery aroma of premium cigars, intertwined with the molten-amber sweetness rising from glasses of whiskey. Together they formed a scent that belonged exclusively to power and wealth.
Kamiki Shunsuke sat poised on an exorbitantly priced Italian leather sofa, his posture as elegant as a meticulously sculpted Persian cat.
His bespoke Versace suit was impeccably tailored, tracing the lean contours of a frame maintained through rigorous self-discipline. That face — the one hailed as belonging to a "national-treasure idol" — glowed with an ivory luminescence beneath the crystal chandelier, so flawless it scarcely seemed real.
He carefully refilled the glass of the man across from him — a man whose physique resembled a small mountain.
Sato Tokugawa, Chairman of the Kirin Group. A man who had built his empire from real estate, riding the frenzy of Japan's economic bubble to the very summit of wealth and power. He lounged contentedly in the sofa, his fleshy face glistening with an oily, alcohol-induced flush.
He raised his glass and drained the costly whiskey in a single gulp, as casually as if it were water.
Then came a satisfied, almost bestial grunt: "Ahh, now that's fine liquor!"
"Mr. Tokugawa." Kamiki Shunsuke's voice slid forth like the finest silk — smooth and suffused with precisely calibrated intimacy. "You see, those idol dramas I starred in last year all performed quite well in the ratings, and they generated considerable buzz among younger audiences. About this year's TV drama awards... do you think, perhaps..."
He left the sentence unfinished, but those alluring eyes of his brimmed with unspoken expectation.He looked like a pet seeking a reward from its master — that careful, probing deference forming a striking contrast against his proud, handsome exterior, the kind of dissonance that could move any man.
"Oh, is that all?" Sato Tokugawa waved his hand dismissively. His eyes, squeezed into slits by the sheer mass of his face, slid lazily over Kamiki Shunsuke with nonchalant ease.
"Relax. This year's Tokyo Drama Awards — Best Actor is yours." He let out a belch, his tone dripping with casual dominance. "I've already greased the wheels with the organizers. They wouldn't dare refuse me — not when I've invested three hundred million yen!"
"Really?! Thank you so much, Mr. Tokugawa!" A dazzling smile burst across Kamiki Shunsuke's face, the genuine rush of euphoria making his already handsome features absolutely radiant.
Yet beneath that ecstasy, a shadow — barely perceptible — crept across his heart.
His sharp instincts told him that Sato Tokugawa's attitude toward him had grown... less eager than before.
In the past, the slightest hint of desire from Kamiki would have sent Sato scrambling like an indulgent parent, thrusting the finest offerings into his hands without hesitation.
But now, he had to ask outright — to beg, essentially — for an award that should have been his as a matter of course.
This subtle shift ignited a fierce sense of crisis within Kamiki Shunsuke.
He knew his face, though an invincible weapon, would one day lose its luster to age. He couldn't remain a gilded canary forever, clinging to a powerful patron.
He needed to prove that his value extended beyond this face.
With that thought, the idol's brilliant smile gradually gave way to something deeper, more calculated.
He refilled Sato Tokugawa's glass once more, his voice steadying. "Mr. Tokugawa, the entire Tokyo Metropolis is buzzing about the real estate market boom right now. I've heard from friends that Kirin Group recently acquired several prime plots in Minato Ward and Chiyoda Ward. Give it a few more years, and this entire Greater Tokyo metropolitan area might truly become your personal garden."
The flattery was perfectly placed — simultaneously praising Sato Tokugawa's business acumen and scratching the precise itch of his vanity.
Sure enough, the lazy, alcohol-induced torpor on Sato Tokugawa's face was instantly replaced by deep, genuine satisfaction.
"Ha ha ha ha! Shunsuke, my boy, now that's what I like to hear!" He threw back his head and roared, every note carrying the brash swagger of a self-made tycoon. "That's right! Without us real estate developers, could this Greater Tokyo metropolitan area have grown into what it is? Those politicians just flap their gums and paint pretty pictures! The ones who actually change this city's landscape are men like us — men with money, land, and people!"
That bone-deep arrogance made him feel as though he'd already become the "god" of this city.
But Kamiki Shunsuke's face now showed a perfectly timed hint of concern.
"But, Mr. Tokugawa," he furrowed his brow, his worried expression resembling a loyal minister fretting over his lord's affairs, "I've heard from friends that the current Governor of Tokyo Metropolis, Koike Ryuichi, doesn't seem very supportive of large-scale real estate development. He apparently favors preserving old neighborhoods — something about 'cultural conservation.' I'm... I'm a little worried that your plans might be impacted by policy changes."
He had deftly shifted his persona — from simpering, pretty ornament to "strategic advisor" capable of sharing Sato Tokugawa's burdens.
He wanted Sato Tokugawa to know that Kamiki Shunsuke possessed not just a face, but a brain.
Sato Tokugawa regarded his "concerned citizen" act with quiet amusement.
Of course he could see through Kamiki Shunsuke's little game.
But he was in a good mood today and didn't mind humoring this pretty boy in his little "lord-and-vassal" charade.
"Shunsuke, you're still too young." Sato Tokugawa shook his head with a chuckle, his beady eyes glinting with worldly shrewdness and contempt.
"You think Koike Ryuichi calls all the shots in Tokyo Metropolis?" He curled his lip, his voice thick with disdain for the Governor. "Sure, 'Governor of Tokyo' sounds impressive enough — twenty-three special wards, twenty-six cities under his jurisdiction. But can he control Tokyo City? The Mayor of Tokyo City isn't his man — they don't even belong to the same party! Koike Ryuichi's 'suggestions' to the Mayor? The Mayor listens politely and then does whatever we decide!"
Kamiki Shunsuke let a perfectly calibrated look of dawning, half-formed understanding cross his face.
He knew he couldn't appear too clever on this topic, lest his earlier concern seem contrived.
"Mr. Tokugawa, you mean..." Kamiki Shunsuke pressed his lips together.
"You only need to know one thing." Sato Tokugawa cut him off, leaning in close. His fleshy face radiated an imperious certainty. "Tokyo City is Kirin Group's home turf! Here, what I, Sato Tokugawa, say — goes!"
That bone-deep arrogance froze the very air in the room.
Kamiki Shunsuke gazed at him, those perpetually smoldering, alluring eyes now filled with nothing but heartfelt awe and worship.
"That said—" Sato Tokugawa seemed to recall something. He stroked his fleshy chin, a sly gleam flickering in his small eyes. "This year, I'm thinking about taking a page from that Nohara Hiroshi's book. I'll have our Kirin Talent Agency produce a few animal-themed films to promote our Tokyo City. Especially since our Tokyo City Mayor wants to ride this 'heartwarming feel-good wave' to boost his reelection campaign."
"Really?!" Kamiki Shunsuke's eyes blazed with excitement. He leaned forward involuntarily, his longing plain as day. "Mr. Tokugawa! Can... can I be part of it?"
"Of course it's being prepared for you." Sato Tokugawa smiled. "But remember — this time our partner is Tokyo City TV, not Tokyo Broadcasting System Holdings."
"Tokyo City TV?" Genuine confusion flickered across Kamiki Shunsuke's face. "What's that? I've never heard of it."
"It's a new television station that the Tokyo City Government established this year," Sato Tokugawa explained. "The purpose is simple: to weaken TV Tokyo's influence over the Tokyo Metropolis and the entire Kanto region."
Kamiki Shunsuke's confusion deepened.
"But, Mr. Tokugawa, aren't most of your promotional investments tied to TV Tokyo? Why are you... working with this Tokyo City TV now?"
"Shunsuke, remember this." A cryptic, meaningful smile spread across Sato Tokugawa's face. "We businessmen follow only one thing: profit. Whoever brings us the greatest return gets our support."
He paused, his tone growing heavier with implication. "Back when the Tokyo City mayoral election was held, the current Mayor and the previous president of TV Tokyo were rivals. You know who won. And this Mayor — he supports real estate development. So tell me, who should I be backing?"
Kamiki Shunsuke's heart jolted.
At last, he understood.
This wasn't merely commercial competition — it was a war between factions!
"So... it's a factional divide?" he ventured.
"Exactly." Sato Tokugawa nodded with a smile. He watched the shock blossoming across Kamiki Shunsuke's face, and the satisfaction of a man in absolute control swelled within him.
He relished this feeling — of holding all the strings.
"So, Shunsuke, are you ready?" Sato Tokugawa's voice returned. "Next, Tokyo City TV will launch a brand-new 'Heartwarming Primetime' programming block to go head-to-head with TV Tokyo! And when that happens, you will be our most important trump card!"
"M-Me?!" Kamiki Shunsuke sputtered, nearly incoherent with excitement. He stared at Sato Tokugawa, his eyes burning with barely contained euphoria.
He knew his moment had arrived.
Not only could he continue his idol career — he could now step into the arena of factional warfare, thick with smoke and fire!
He would no longer be a gilded canary, clinging to a powerful patron.
He would become the sharpest blade in Sato Tokugawa's hand!
"Thank you, Mr. Tokugawa! Thank you for believing in me!" He bowed again and again, his gratitude overflowing.
"Do your best, Shunsuke." Sato Tokugawa smiled, his voice laden with expectation. "This year's Tokyo Drama Awards also has our Tokyo City Government as a stakeholder. When the time comes, I guarantee you'll get the glory you deserve."
Kamiki Shunsuke stared blankly at Sato Tokugawa. He knew he'd made the right gamble this time.
He would rise through this factional war, step by step toward the pinnacle of power, becoming someone who could truly influence an era and reshape the world.
And in the process, he — Kamiki Shunsuke — would grind that country bumpkin named Nohara Hiroshi beneath his heel!
...
Tokyo's night was a cocktail mixed from neon and starlight — intoxicating, dizzying, yet concealing an imperceptible chill.
Inside the private penthouse suite atop the Kirin Group tower — one with a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape below — the air carried faint traces of women's perfume lingering like an afterthought, mingling with the crisp, fruity notes of top-shelf champagne chilling in an ice bucket. The atmosphere was decadent and somehow hollow.
Sato Tokugawa, President of Kirin Talent Agency, lay sprawled in the vast leather sofa.
He wiped the sweat from his face with a towel.
His expression was one of satisfaction.
The amber whiskey in his glass had dwindled to a thin film at the bottom, much like the fading, tipsy glint in his eyes.
Across from him, Kamiki Shunsuke — the agency's hottest, most in-demand idol — lowered himself gingerly into a seat. He respectfully poured Sato Tokugawa a fresh glass of whiskey.
That face — the one capable of making legions of girls scream — now wore a guarded, ingratiating look.
"President Sato, the sequel to Tokyo Love Story maintaining ratings above twenty-five percent — it's all thanks to your masterful planning," Kamiki Shunsuke continued his grateful refrain. "If you hadn't insisted, against all opposition, on casting me as the lead, I doubt..."
Sato Tokugawa simply swirled the glass in his hand, ice cubes clinking against the walls in a rhythmic cadence.
"You earned it yourself." His voice came as he steadied his breathing, waiting for his racing heart to settle. He glanced at Kamiki Shunsuke, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. "The market needs idols like you. I merely went with the current and gave you a stage."
"No, President, you are my talent scout — my savior!" Kamiki Shunsuke bowed immediately, his posture so humble it bordered on sycophantic. "Without you, there would be no Kamiki Shunsuke today! From now on, whatever you command, I will absolutely—"
"Enough."
Sato Tokugawa raised his wrist abruptly, as though struck by a sudden thought. The platinum face of his Patek Philippe refracted a cold gleam under the crystal light.
He checked the time, a flash of seriousness crossing his eyes. "It's getting late. You should head home."
Kamiki Shunsuke's torrent of pledged loyalty lodged in his throat. He froze, a flicker of bewilderment — and a nearly invisible trace of wounded pride — crossing that handsome face.
He hadn't expected Sato to dismiss him so bluntly.
"President..." He instinctively edged forward, slipping a coquettish note into his voice — the weapon he wielded best when facing the man who controlled his career. "I... I was hoping to chat a bit longer. About the next production — I have some ideas of my own..."
"I said, it's time for you to leave."
Sato Tokugawa's voice remained flat, but beneath that flatness lurked an unyielding chill. He didn't even glance at Kamiki Shunsuke, his gaze fixed instead on the dazzling nightscape beyond the window.
"I have an important guest arriving shortly."
His tone implied, unmistakably, that you, Kamiki Shunsuke, no longer fall within the category of "important."
Kamiki Shunsuke's body went rigid. The carefully maintained smile on his face cracked. He could feel an invisible wall rising, slowly but surely, between himself and Sato Tokugawa.
He opened his mouth to protest, but in the end, facing Sato's cold profile, he chose silence.
He knew that lingering any longer would only invite humiliation.
"...Yes, President." He rose slowly and bowed deeply once more, though his humility now carried a stiffness it hadn't before. "Then... I won't impose any further. Please rest well."
With that, he turned and left the suffocating suite, his steps marked by a subtle ache.
When the heavy door clicked shut behind him, every trace of humility and ingratiation on Kamiki Shunsuke's face vanished like smoke in the wind.
What replaced it was the venomous, cold fury of a man who'd been humiliated.
He strode into the elevator. That face — flawless before countless cameras — was now subtly twisted with jealousy and resentment.
The elevator descended smoothly, the metallic walls reflecting his darkened expression.
He stepped outside. The evening breeze carried a slight chill that cooled his overheated heart by a few degrees.
He walked to the parking garage and pulled open the door of a black sedan with practiced ease. It was a meticulously maintained Toyota Century — the iconic flagship of the 1980s, all clean, squared-off lines and understated gravitas, forming a sharp contrast with his fashionable, avant-garde attire.
This car was a "gift" from Sato Tokugawa — a symbol of his status.
Yet now, this emblem of glory looked to him like nothing more than a gilded cage.
He started the engine. The V8's muffled growl echoed his suppressed mood.
The car eased out of the garage and merged into Ginza's ceaseless river of traffic.
Kamiki Shunsuke didn't go home. Instead, he drove aimlessly through the streets. He picked up his phone, hesitated a moment, then finally dialed a number.
It belonged to someone Sato Tokugawa had introduced him to at a banquet.
A man named Kishida Masaminami — the president of a major real estate company in Tokyo City.
The call connected quickly.
"Hello, President Kishida?" Kamiki Shunsuke's voice had returned to its polished, magnetic clarity. Beneath the deference, however, lurked an unmistakable note of urgency. "This is Kamiki Shunsuke. I'm terribly sorry to bother you so late."
"Oh? Kamiki! Well, well!" President Kishida's surprised yet amused laughter came through the receiver. "Not at all — receiving a call from a celebrity of your caliber is my honor! What's this about? Since we last met, are you thinking of visiting my headquarters again?"
"It's like this, President Kishida." Kamiki Shunsuke's tone turned diplomatic, each word chosen with delicate precision. "I've recently developed an interest in real estate investment. I was wondering... would you happen to have time tomorrow to join me for a coffee? Perhaps you could enlighten this complete novice?"
He knew this phone call was a gamble.
A gamble to break free from Sato Tokugawa's control and build his own network of connections.
...
In the penthouse suite, Sato Tokugawa didn't even bother glancing at the closed door.
Kamiki Shunsuke's departure meant no more to him than swatting away a buzzing fly — utterly beneath notice.
He picked up the internal phone, his voice reverting to the cold composure and authority befitting his station.
"Clear the room. Have everything cleaned."
He paused, then added: "Replace everything with new items. I don't want to smell a single trace."
Setting down the phone, he walked straight into the bathroom.
Hot water cascaded from the showerhead, sluicing over his well-maintained body and washing away the trivial irritation lingering in his mind.
He scrubbed every inch with meticulous thoroughness — not as though bathing, but performing some sacred ritual of purification.
Because he knew the person he was about to meet was the one who truly held the power to decide his fate — and that of the entire Kirin Talent Agency.
An hour later, the suite had been transformed.
The air carried the faint fragrance of sandalwood — Sato Tokugawa's favorite scent. Serene, yet charged with strength.
He had changed into a dark, exquisitely crafted formal kimono, its premium fabric and perfect fit lending him an air of deepened gravity and restraint.
He sat in the seat of honor. Before him on the tea table, an elegant tea set released delicate wisps of fragrant steam.
And across from him, four middle-aged men in their forties and fifties — all wearing kimono — who had arrived earlier, sat with rigid posture and solemn expressions.
Without exception, they were titans of Tokyo City's construction, real estate, and building materials industries — men who truly held the economic lifeblood of this city in their hands.
Yet now they sat like schoolboys awaiting a teacher's inspection, their bone-deep deference thickening the room's atmosphere with gravity.
They were all waiting.
Waiting for the arrival of the one person before whom every man in this room would bow.
Then, the suite door swung open without a sound.
An elderly man in a dark gray kimono entered with measured steps.
His frame was lean, almost gaunt, yet his spine was ramrod straight — like an unsheathed blade. His face, carved deep by the passage of decades, bore a serene expression, but his eyes were hawk-sharp, as though capable of piercing through every illusion in existence.
"Mr. Mayor!"
Sato Tokugawa and the four industry titans sprang from their seats almost simultaneously, then bowed — deeply, reverently — before the old man.
Within those bowed backs lay heartfelt submission.
This elder was the current Mayor of Tokyo City, the absolute core of their alliance — Tanaka Mikami.
Tanaka Mikami responded with nothing more than a slight nod. He crossed to the central seat and lowered himself into it. His commanding presence — effortless and wordless — instantly seized control of the room's entire atmosphere.
He dispensed with pleasantries. Those hawk-sharp eyes swept slowly across every face, and he came straight to the point.
"Gentlemen. You are all core members of my campaign team." His voice was not loud, yet it resonated like an ancient bell — steady and powerful, each word striking squarely against every heart in the room. "The next mayoral election is three months away. I need your help."
"We are entirely at your disposal, Mr. Mayor!" Sato Tokugawa was the first to bow his head.
"Sir!"
The other four titans followed suit, their bearing respectful and resolute.
They understood that their wealth, their prestige — their very livelihoods — were inextricably bound to the man before them.
Rise together. Fall together.
"Good." Tanaka Mikami nodded with satisfaction. He raised his teacup and took a measured sip, a faint, keen light flashing through those piercing eyes. "How are the campaign funds coming along?"
"Rest assured, Mr. Mayor." The most senior-looking real estate magnate answered in a deep, steady voice. "Each of us five has prepared one hundred million yen in political donations, ready to be deposited into your campaign account at your word."
"Mm." Tanaka Mikami nodded again, a smile of approval crossing his face. "You are the team I personally built from the ground up. I trust you."
His gaze shifted to another man — bespectacled, refined in appearance, wearing gold-rimmed glasses.
"Takahashi, how is the 'Tokyo City Television Station' I asked you to set up progressing?"
This man, Takahashi, had been a high-ranking official in the Tokyo Metropolis public relations apparatus — a man with a brilliant career ahead of him.
But for the sake of Tanaka Mikami's campaign, he had decisively resigned from public office to devote himself to this private media platform, custom-built for Tanaka Mikami.
"Mr. Mayor, please rest assured." Takahashi replied with deference, his efficiency and composure betraying years of elite bureaucratic experience. "All licensing and approval procedures for the station are finalized. The production team has been assembled and is ready to begin creating content — full-spectrum media promotion for your campaign."
"Excellent." The satisfaction on Tanaka Mikami's face deepened. "Once the station is successfully established, the Tokyo City Government will acquire it. At that point, you'll return to my side and continue assisting me."
"Yes, sir!" The man bowed his head immediately, visibly moved. He knew this was a promise.
With that settled, Tanaka Mikami's gaze finally came to rest on Sato Tokugawa.
"Sato." His voice dropped lower. "Your Kirin Talent Agency commands a vast roster of talent and industry-leading production capabilities. For this campaign's promotional programming, I want you to personally oversee it. You must produce works that move people's hearts like nothing before."
"Yes, Mr. Mayor!" Sato Tokugawa bowed once more, his manner both respectful and brimming with confidence. "Everything is already in place. Our top star, Kamiki Shunsuke, commands enormous popularity among younger demographics. His idol dramas — particularly the Tokyo Love Story series — have achieved phenomenal ratings, successfully crafting him as the image of a devoted, faithful, and deeply responsible perfect idol."
"President Sato is absolutely right," the real estate magnate chimed in with agreement written across his face. "My daughter — still at university — is a diehard Kamiki Shunsuke fan! Every girl in her class treats him like the man of their dreams! If we can get Kamiki to campaign on the Mayor's behalf, it would be incredibly effective at winning over the youth vote!"
"Exactly!" Another man — the building materials magnate — added with a knowing grin. "Young people today couldn't care less about politics, but they're absolutely fanatical about their idols! If we can skillfully weave the Mayor's campaign message into Kamiki's promotional material, the impact will be far greater than spending tens of millions of yen on conventional advertising!"
Tanaka Mikami listened in silence, the satisfaction on his face gradually deepening into more contemplative thought.
His slender fingers tapped rhythmically against the tabletop, a barely perceptible gravity entering those keen eyes.
"Kamiki Shunsuke is indeed a strong card to play." He spoke slowly. "But an idol alone isn't enough."
He paused, his gaze sweeping every person present. The authority radiating from him froze the very air in the room.
"We must learn from our 'rival.'"
"Rival?" Everyone looked up, startled.
"Yes. Rival." The corner of Tanaka Mikami's mouth curved into a deeply meaningful arc, his eyes flickering with a complex light — part admiration, part hostility.
"The Governor of Tokyo Metropolis — Koike Ryuichi."
He paused, his tone growing heavier, the jealousy nearly bursting from him. "And that young man under his wing — the one called Nohara Hiroshi."
"You've all seen Hachiko Monogatari recently, I assume?" he asked, his voice low and probing.
Everyone nodded instinctively, their faces colored by an indescribable complexity of emotion.
"A movie about a dog — achieving such terrifying box office numbers and sparking such massive societal impact!" Tanaka Mikami exhaled a long breath, one tinged with resentment and, despite himself, genuine respect. "I've even heard that the party leader of the Liberal Public Opinion Party himself praised this film. They're all saying Koike Ryuichi struck gold this time! Thanks to this movie, his gubernatorial reelection is practically a done deal!"
His words cut like the sharpest blade, striking every person's most vulnerable nerve.
Indeed. A done deal.
That meant no matter how hard they fought, they could not shake Koike Ryuichi's grip on the Tokyo Metropolis.
The helplessness was suffocating.
"Therefore, gentlemen." Tanaka Mikami's voice returned, the resentment and jealousy gradually yielding to a politician's cold, calculated resolve. "We must learn from him! Learn from Nohara Hiroshi!"
"We will take the heartwarming route! We will use the purest emotions to move people's hearts! We will make the citizens of Tokyo City understand that I, Tanaka Mikami, am not merely an iron-fisted mayor — I am also a man of flesh and blood, of feeling and principle!"
"Sato!" His gaze locked onto Sato Tokugawa. "I don't care what methods you use! You must produce campaign material that surpasses Hachiko Monogatari — more touching, more emotionally resonant! I want the citizens of Tokyo City to weep for me! To be moved by me! To willingly, eagerly cast their votes in my favor!"
"Yes, Mr. Mayor!" Sato Tokugawa bowed deeply. "You have my word! I will spare nothing to meet your expectations!"
He knew this would be a fierce battle.
A head-on collision with the "cultural phenomenon" called Nohara Hiroshi.
And he, Sato Tokugawa — along with the entire Kirin Talent Agency behind him — would stake everything on the outcome.
"Mr. Mayor, I have an idea — still rough, if you'll indulge me." The hitherto silent Takahashi now spoke up, the media professional's shrewdness gleaming behind his glasses. "The reason Hachiko Monogatari succeeded wasn't just its moving story — it precisely captured the public's current yearning for 'loyalty' and 'family bonds.' I believe we can approach it from that same angle."
He paused, his confidence building. "We could produce a documentary-style variety show called Tokyo Family. Each episode would visit an ordinary family living in Tokyo City, documenting the small moments of their daily lives, showcasing the love and bonds between family members. And at the end of each episode, you, Mr. Mayor, would appear on camera yourself, delivering a warm message of blessing and encouragement to that family."
"This would dramatically elevate your approachable image and your sense of social responsibility. Moreover, this show would dovetail perfectly with the emotional atmosphere created by Hachiko Monogatari, allowing us to seamlessly transfer the goodwill associated with 'Hachiko' onto you!"
Takahashi's proposal was airtight and incisive.
He hadn't merely suggested a creative concept — he had constructed an entire public relations framework capable of competing with Nohara Hiroshi on equal terms.
"Good! Good! Good!"
After a moment of deliberation, Tanaka Mikami nodded his agreement. "Building an approachable persona this way — it's an excellent strategy indeed!"
He looked at Takahashi, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration.
"Takahashi! This idea of yours is brilliant! Simply brilliant!" He nodded with satisfaction. "We proceed exactly as planned! Starting now, we launch the Tokyo Family initiative at full scale! I want all of Tokyo City overflowing with my 'warmth'!"
The moment his words landed, it was as if a fistful of ice had been hurled into a boiling cauldron of oil — the room's atmosphere detonated.
Sato Tokugawa's fleshy face was all shrewd calculation, his eyes narrowed to slits, yet the light blazing from those narrow gaps burned hotter than ever before.
He brought his palm down on the sofa's armrest with a resounding slap, the expensive leather groaning as though trembling at the coming storm.
"Mr. Mayor, Takahashi's blueprint is grand, but it needs flesh and blood to bring it to life." Sato Tokugawa's voice boomed with power. His bulky frame leaned forward, radiating irresistible authority. "And if there's one thing my Kirin Talent Agency has in abundance, it's the flesh and blood to make a cold proposal come alive!"
He surveyed the room, his tycoon's commanding presence on full display. "Every A-list talent under my agency — Kamiki Shunsuke included — will participate unconditionally in the show's production! Their apartments, their families — all of it can serve as our most authentic stage! We won't even need to search for ordinary families. My artists themselves are the most glamorous 'family members' living in this city!"
He paused, the corners of his mouth curving with the confidence of a man who already held the winning hand. "And at each episode's conclusion, we'll have Kamiki and the others deliver your campaign message — 'Building a Warm Tokyo, Protecting Every Family' — in the most heartfelt, genuine manner possible. Mr. Mayor, just imagine — what a spectacle that will be! The perfect fusion of an idol's aura and political warmth!"
"Masterful!" The real estate magnate clapped his hands in instant admiration. "President Sato, that's the finishing stroke of genius!"
The others nodded eagerly, their eyes ablaze with excitement.
They could already envision it — against the backdrop of Kamiki Shunsuke's devastatingly handsome face, Mayor Tanaka Mikami would appear approachable yet irresistibly charismatic.
But amid the chorus of enthusiastic agreement, a hesitant voice intruded — like a discordant note striking an otherwise harmonious chord.
"Mr. Mayor, while this plan is ingenious, I must speak frankly — there may be a problem."
It was Yamada, the building materials magnate who had remained silent until now.
A cautious man by nature, he had furrowed his brow, the habitual warmth of his face giving way to deep concern.
"For businessmen and entertainers to associate closely — that's standard practice. But you are the Mayor, an elected official representing the public will. Should you become too entangled with the entertainment world, it could give your opponents ammunition — accusations of frivolity, of neglecting your duties, of lacking the dignity expected of a public servant."
His words fell like cold water on a hot pan. The feverish atmosphere cooled by several degrees.
The excitement drained from every face, replaced by deeper contemplation.
Yamada's concern was far from baseless.
In Japan's rigidly hierarchical, tradition-conscious society, an invisible wall had always stood between politicians and entertainers.
Cross that line, and one risked being branded "unsuitable for office" — and losing the public's trust.
"Yamada, I must respectfully disagree."
The real estate magnate interjected with a soft chuckle. He raised his teacup, gently blowing on the steam, his usually shrewd eyes now radiating worldly wisdom.
"Times have changed." He began slowly, his voice quiet but cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Look at the Governor of Tokyo Metropolis right now — Koike Ryuichi. What kind of momentum does he have? All he did was lend his endorsement to a movie about a dog, and now his approval ratings are rock-solid, his reelection virtually guaranteed. What does that tell you?"
He paused, sweeping his gaze across the room with supreme confidence. "It tells you that today's citizens — especially the younger generation — no longer believe in hollow political slogans. They want leaders with flesh and blood, who understand life, who understand emotion! Americans use this playbook. Europeans use it. Why can't we? Must our elections always lag a generation behind?"
"True enough — that's exactly how campaigns work in Europe and America." A thoughtful expression immediately settled over Yamada's face.
The others nodded in agreement, the conviction in their eyes burning bright once more.
Indeed, times had changed.
If these old guard continued clinging to outdated notions, they would ultimately be swallowed whole by the tides of history.
Tanaka Mikami listened to their debate in silence. His weathered face betrayed not a single ripple, but those hawk-sharp eyes gleamed with a politician's cool, decisive calculus.
He rose slowly, crossed to the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, and gazed out at the glittering galaxy of lights stretching into the infinite night.
"Yamada's caution is the wisdom of experience." His voice resonated like an ancient bell, steady and powerful, reaching every ear. "And Sato's vision is the voice of the age."
He paused, then slowly turned. Those piercing eyes blazed with unquestionable authority and command.
He had made his decision.
"We proceed as planned."
"We will win this era — on this era's terms."
"Sir!" And since Mayor Tanaka Mikami himself had spoken, not a man in the room said another word. All five rose in unison, bowed deeply, their bearing solemn and absolute.