My Name is Hiroshi Nohara, Star of Neon Film and Television!

Chapter 245: "A Bite of Neon"! Finally Airing Amidst Immense Anticipation!

As the morning light of October 15th crested over the roofs of Tokyo, Nohara Hiroshi stepped into the "Future Comic Club", bathed in pale golden rays.

A Kumamon sticker, hand-drawn by Misae, was still affixed to the glass door. Its paws crookedly formed a "welcome" gesture. Pushing open the door, the room was immediately redolent with the scent of markers.

Misae was sprawled over the long table, coloring a "Doraemon" drawing. The blue of the robotic cat's belly was particularly vibrant. Seeing Hiroshi enter, she immediately sprang up, still clutching a yellow marker: "Hiroshi-kun! You're here just in time! I finished the new Kumamon comic draft, quickly, take a look!"

Hiroshi walked over and picked up the drawing—the Kumamon on the paper was holding a Soba bowl, with "Gunma Prefecture Limited" written beside it. The lines were much smoother than last time.

He pointed at Kumamon's paw: "Make the curve here a little rounder, so it looks more endearingly clumsy, the audience will like it more."

"Okay!" Misae immediately picked up a pencil to make adjustments. The pencil lead rustled on the paper. She suddenly looked up and blinked, "Hiroshi-kun, can you take me to the screening tonight? I want to see what Nomizu-san's sashimi looks like on film!"

"Tonight I have to coordinate with the people from Kanto Station. I'll definitely take you next time there's an audience screening." Hiroshi ruffled her hair, his tone carrying a little helplessness. "Remember to submit the comic club's drafts to Shueisha on time, don't always think about running out."

Misae immediately slumped her face, but still obediently nodded: "I know... Then Hiroshi-kun, be careful on the road, call me when it's over tonight!"

She followed Hiroshi to the door, waving until his car turned the corner of the street before shrinking back inside. She turned around and shouted to the other manga artists: "Tonight we'll watch TV together at the club! Watch Hiroshi-kun's new film! And we can order food delivery! I'm paying!"

"Banzai!" Joyous cheers instantly erupted within the Future Comic Club.As soon as Hiroshi's car drove into the Tokyo Station parking lot, he saw a group of people standing at the entrance—Hashimoto Ichiro was hugging the edited film copy, Yamamoto Takeshi and Tanaka Kei were huddled together chatting about something, and even the usually silent Saito Shigeru was standing nearby, clutching his camera bag.

What surprised him even more was that Takada Toshihide and Asumi were also there. Both were wearing formal suits, clearly waiting specifically for him.

"Hiroshi-kun, we finally waited for you!" Tanaka Kei was the first to welcome him, his tone full of energy. "Let's not go up, let's go straight to Kanto Station—Suzuki-san and the others have been waiting for a long time. The screening room and reporters are all arranged!"

Hiroshi was taken aback, and Asumi smiled and explained: "I talked to Suzuki-san on the phone yesterday. He said the old employees of Kanto Station all want to watch the film broadcast with their own eyes. They even specifically cleared out the largest conference room to hold a press conference. Let's head over now, we can just make it there before three in the afternoon."

Takada Toshihide pushed up his glasses, his tone much gentler than usual: "The person in charge of Marui Soy Sauce will also go to Kanto Station. They want to use the press conference to finalize the details of subsequent sponsorships. You can think about the collaboration plan on the way."

"Understood." Hiroshi nodded.

On the way to Kanto Station, the atmosphere in the car was exceptionally lively.

Yamamoto Takeshi flipped through the promotional brochure for "A Bite of Neon," pointing at the photo of Nomizu Masayasu casting his net. "I was chatting with the scriptwriter for 'Tales of the Unusual' yesterday. They all said they wanted to borrow this 'small characters, big stories' technique. Next time we might be able to collaborate with Hiroshi-kun on a food-themed anthology episode."

Tanaka Kei immediately chimed in: "The audience of 'Kasou Taishou' is also asking if we can do a 'Food Mimicry' special, letting everyone mimic a tuna auction or slicing sashimi—if Hiroshi-kun agrees, I'll go write the proposal right now!"

Saito Shigeru, sitting in the back row, suddenly spoke up: "I adjusted the projection equipment at Kanto Station in advance. It's much better than when we filmed 'Yamishibai' last time. The picture will definitely be clear tonight."

Listening to their conversation, Takada Toshihide's lips also curled into a slight smile. He whispered to Asumi: "I used to worry that the Tokyo Faction and the Kanto Faction wouldn't be able to integrate. Now it seems that with Hiroshi-kun around, these are not problems."

Asumi nodded, his gaze falling on Hiroshi's back in front of him: "He never relies on his position to suppress people;

he relies on his real skills to convince everyone—look at Hashimoto-san. He betrayed him before, but isn't he following him wholeheartedly now?"

As soon as the car turned into Kanto Station's parking lot, they saw Suzuki Kiyoto standing at the entrance leaning on his black wooden cane, surrounded by several old executives like Yamada Takashi and Fujishita Ken. Matsui Yuichi was even carrying a camera, clearly intending to record this scene.

"Hiroshi-kun! Takada-kun! Asumi-kun!" Suzuki Kiyoto quickly stepped forward, his cane tapping sharply on the ground. "Come with me quickly. The conference room and screening room are ready. The reporters have already signed in downstairs. We will hold the press conference punctually at three."

He led everyone into the building. In the poster boards on both sides of the corridor, old posters for "Yamishibai" and "Seven Samurai" were still posted. Suzuki Kiyoto pointed to one of them: "This was put up during Kanto Station's hardest time last year, to inspire young people to fully utilize their talents like Nohara Hiroshi. At that time, who could have thought that we could produce a film like 'A Bite of Neon' now?"

Yamada Takashi followed behind, adding with a smile: "Exactly! The last time NHK came to shoot a documentary, they shot for three days without any results. Hiroshi-kun got it done in a week, and it was shot in such detail—our Kanto Station's old face has finally been recovered!"

Entering the largest conference room, long tables were already set up. Water cups with "A Bite of Neon" printed on them were placed on the tables. The cameras in the corners were already set up, pointing at the speaker's podium in the middle.

Fujishita Ken leaned close to Takada Toshihide and patted his arm. "Takada-kun, don't worry about the honorariums. Although our Kanto Station isn't as wealthy as before, the red envelopes for reporters and film critics will definitely be substantial. It's much better than the superficial 'travel expenses' from City TV!"

Takada Toshihide raised an eyebrow: "Oh? I was actually worried your budget wouldn't be enough. After all, it's said that City TV, for Kamiki Shunsuke's sake, gave every reporter a premium cosmetics set."

"What use is that?" Suzuki Kiyoto sat in the main seat, took a sip of tea, his tone carrying a bit of pride. "What we rely on is connections! Yamada-kun is college classmates with the editor-in-chief of the Asahi Shimbun's film review section, and Fujishita Ken has drunk with the reporters of Tokyo Entertainment Weekly. These people know content and won't write drivel just for petty favors—besides, the quality of our film speaks for itself, do we still need to buy good reviews with money?"

Kimura Hiroshi adjusted his round-framed glasses and took out a list from his briefcase: "I've already briefed the reporters who are coming. Later, during the Q&A, they will prioritize questions about the humanistic details in the film, such as Nomizu-san's fishing heritage and Sato-san's Soba craftsmanship. They will try not to mention City TV to avoid lowering our status."

"Lowering our status?" Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly and sneered. "City TV is the one lowering their status! Ignoring perfectly good local culture and insisting on promoting an idol like Kamiki Shunsuke—the last time he filmed a soy sauce commercial, he couldn't even distinguish between 'brewed' and 'blended', and even said 'they're all salty anyway'. The variety shows filmed by such a person can only fool little girls!"

Matsui Yuichi, carrying the camera, couldn't help but chime in: "The last time I went to Gunma to film the Soba shop, I heard someone from City TV telling Sato-san to cooperate with Kamiki Shunsuke and stage a 'father and son reconciliation' scene. Sato-san kicked them straight out—what we film are real stories, what they film are fake sentiments, can they be the same?"

Watching everyone chiming in, Asumi smiled and said to Hiroshi: "See? Now everyone at Kanto Station treats 'A Bite' as their own child, and they're even more invested than our Tokyo Station."

Hiroshi nodded, his gaze falling outside the window—although Kanto Station's building was old, it exuded a sense of vitality. In the corridors, you could see old employees greeting each other, unlike the pervasive workplace alienation at Tokyo Station. He suddenly understood that the "recovering motivation" Suzuki Kiyoto spoke of was never about equipment and budget, but about everyone's obsession with "good content."

"Everyone, the reporters are almost all here." Yamada Takashi checked his watch and stood up. "Let's go to the screening room next door. First, let the reporters watch the film, and then we'll hold the press conference. This way they'll have something to write about."

Everyone followed him to the screening room. As soon as they pushed open the door, they saw quite a few people sitting inside—there were reporters from the Asahi Shimbun and the Yomiuri Shimbun, as well as several familiar film critics. Saeki Akira was also there. Seeing Hiroshi enter, he smiled and raised his cup. The screen in the screening room was already drawn, and tea and pastries were laid out on the table next to it. It was clearly meticulously prepared.

Suzuki Kiyoto walked to the front and cleared his throat: "Thank you all for coming to the advance screening of 'A Bite of Neon' today. This film was spearheaded by Nohara Hiroshi-kun and filmed jointly by our Kanto Station and Tokyo Station. It's all stories about ordinary Japanese people;

I hope everyone will like it."

After he finished speaking, he nodded to the projectionist. The lights dimmed instantly, and the sound of ocean waves washed over the entire screening room—the Chiba pier in the morning mist, Nomizu Masayasu's hands untying the boat rope, the bidding cries during the tuna auction. Scene after scene unfolded on the screen. The reporters, who had been conversing softly, gradually quieted down, and even the sound of pens on notepads grew much lighter.

When the sequence transitioned to the slow-motion shot of Nomizu Masayasu slicing sashimi, Saeki Akira couldn't help but exclaim softly: "This shot is breathtakingly executed! You can see the texture of the tuna clearly;

it's even more enticing than what I had at a Ginza sushi restaurant last time!"

The reporters next to him immediately looked up at him, but he was completely oblivious, his eyes fixed on the screen until the end of the film when Nomizu Masayasu said "The sea gives what it gives, and we eat what it gives, we can't be greedy". The screening room was quiet for a few seconds before erupting in enthusiastic applause.

When the lights came back on, Takada Toshihide walked to the front and said with a smile: "It is now time for questions. Feel free to ask anything you'd like."

A reporter from the Asahi Shimbun was the first to stand up: "Nohara-kun, may I ask your original intention for shooting this documentary? Why did you choose to start shooting from Chiba's seafood?"

"My original intention was to let everyone see the people behind the food." Hiroshi took the microphone, his tone steady. "Many people only think sashimi is fresh, but they don't know that fishermen have to go out to sea early in the morning, and auctioneers have to get up early to set the price. It is the dedication of these individuals that imbues food with warmth. I chose Chiba because the fishing industry here retains many traditional methods. Nomizu-san uses a wooden boat to fish and selects tuna according to old rules. These are all things worth recording."

Another reporter asked: "I heard that City TV's Kamiki Shunsuke also has a new variety show airing tonight. Do you think your documentary can beat his?"

As soon as this question was asked, the atmosphere in the screening room instantly froze. Suzuki Kiyoto was just about to speak, but Hiroshi took the lead: "I don't think this is a matter of 'beating'. Kamiki-san's variety show has its audience, and my documentary has its viewers. As long as everyone can produce content that satisfies the audience, it's a good thing."

Saeki Akira immediately stood up and addressed the reporters: "Let me say something fair! I've seen the sample of Kamiki Shunsuke's variety show. It's entirely staged interaction. Even eating a bowl of ramen required ten NGs. How can it compare to the authenticity of 'A Bite'? The look in Nomizu-san's eyes when pulling the net, the concentration of Sato-san grinding buckwheat flour—these things cannot be acted out. Tonight, my review will definitely give 'A Bite' a perfect score!"

His words caused everyone to laugh, and the originally somewhat tense atmosphere instantly relaxed. The subsequent questions all revolved around details inside the film;

no one mentioned City TV again.

After the press conference concluded, the representative from Marui Soy Sauce approached Hiroshi, handing over a collaboration proposal: "Nohara-kun, we wish to sponsor your upcoming shoots. Not only do we want product placement within the documentary, but we also aim to collaborate with Nomizu-san to launch a 'A Bite Limited Edition' soy sauce—what are your thoughts?"

"Acceptable." Hiroshi received the proposal, swiftly skimming a few pages. "However, the advertisement cannot disrupt the pacing of the film;

it must integrate naturally. For instance, placing a bottle of soy sauce in Nomizu-san's fish shop without deliberate close-ups."

"No problem!" the representative agreed immediately. "We will coordinate with Nomizu-san tomorrow, aiming to launch the product by next week!"

As everyone gathered their belongings to leave, Suzuki Kiyoto held Hiroshi's hand, his tone brimming with emotion: "Hiroshi-kun, thank you. Kanto Station hasn't been this lively in a long time. The last time we saw a scene like this was twenty years ago during the filming of 'Kanto Fishing Song'."

"It's the result of everyone's collective effort," Hiroshi smiled and replied. "Next time we shoot the traditional Japanese sweets shop in Kyoto, we'll still need the assistance of Kanto Station personnel."

"Call on us anytime!" Yamada Takashi immediately patted his chest. "Saito-san's lighting, Matsui-san's cinematography—use them at your discretion! We at Kanto Station may lack other things, but our veteran staff are thoroughly dependable!"

As the sun set, everyone departed from the press conference venue and congregated outside Kanto TV, intending to grab a bite.

Asumi gazed at the gradually illuminating streetlights outside, remarking to Hiroshi: "Let's forgo returning to Tokyo Station tonight. Inform our respective families we're working overtime. This will allow us to monitor the evening ratings, and subsequently, we can hold a celebratory banquet once it concludes!"

Hiroshi chuckled and agreed: "Sounds good."

"Banzai!" The others cheered in unison.

Ultimately, they were also eager to discover the culmination of their efforts that evening. Particularly due to this being Nohara Hiroshi's inaugural documentary, profound curiosity surrounded the extent of the ratings it could achieve.

Particularly those acquainted with Nohara Hiroshi harbored an internal yearning to witness the ultimate trajectory of his genius!

...

Simultaneously, the atmosphere at Tokyo City TV felt akin to an over-inflated balloon, its liveliness somewhat distorted.

Within the grand conference hall on the top floor, the glare from the crystal chandeliers was disorienting. Below the stage, nearly a hundred people were densely packed;

camera lenses focused on the rostrum amidst an incessant cacophony of shutter clicks.

In stark contrast to the professionalism characterizing Kanto Station's press conference, the press section here, apart from generic outlets like "Tokyo Sports Press," was dominated by gossip tabloids such as "Weekly Gossip King" and "Star's Exclusive Magazine." The reporters' notebooks were even adorned with Kamiki Shunsuke headshot stickers.

At the center of the rostrum, Kamiki Shunsuke wore a dazzling silver suit. His hair was immobilized by gel in an exaggerated style, and the diamond ring on his finger glinted piercingly under the lights.

He tilted his head slightly, flashing a textbook smile at the fans and reporters below, intermittently flashing a V-sign, prompting waves of shrieks from the audience.

Beside him, Takahashi Kazuo, attired in a dark gray suit, maintained a politician's smile. He clutched his speech but frequently stole glances at the press corps below, his gaze filled with absolute confidence in victory.

Several City TV executives also occupied the rostrum, among them Sato Takashi, a director poached from Kanto Station.

Attired in a suit, his hands resting on his knees, his brows were deeply furrowed. His gaze swept across the fans below wielding "Husband Shunsuke" light boards, his lips involuntarily curling downward in distaste.

Beside him sat Director Yamada Jun, also a defector from Kanto Station. He was currently looking down at his pager. The screen displayed a message from a former colleague: "Kanto Station's press conference is full of mainstream media;

yours looks like a fan meeting." This caused Yamada Jun substantial discomfort.

At that moment, the press conference commenced.

"Members of the media, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to attend the 'Shunsuke's Tokyo Roaming' press conference!"

Takahashi Kazuo was the first to stand up. The microphone in his hand emitted a faint static hum. "This variety show is City TV's pivotal project for the year, vigorously supported by the Kirin Group, and headlined by the national idol, Kamiki Shunsuke-san. Not only will it take everyone to visit Tokyo's viral restaurants, but it will also showcase Shunsuke-san's versatility. We are confident it will become the rating dark horse of this year's prime time!"

As soon as he finished speaking, Kamiki Shunsuke immediately took over, his voice laced with deliberate gentleness: "I'm extremely delighted to participate in this project. To provide viewers with the optimal experience, we specially airlifted ingredients from France and engaged Michelin-starred chefs for guidance. Every episode, I will personally cook, and I will also sing new songs for everyone!"

More fervent screams erupted from the audience. A reporter from "Weekly Gossip King" was the first to raise a hand, their voice shrill: "Shunsuke-san! I heard you declined a Hollywood audition opportunity for this variety show, is that true?"

Kamiki Shunsuke feigned surprise, covering his mouth, then smilingly shook his head: "Although there were indeed Hollywood invitations, I preferred to bring excellent content to the Japanese audience. Compared to international stages, I care more about everyone's smiles—after all, my fans are all here!"

This statement elicited another wave of cheers. Takahashi Kazuo clapped approvingly, sweeping a satisfied gaze over the audience, utterly oblivious to the helpless glance exchanged between Sato Takashi and Yamada Jun.

Sato Takashi leaned close to Yamada Jun's ear, his voice barely audible: "Observe the media below;

their inquiries solely concern Kamiki Shunsuke's private life. Is there a single question regarding program content? Recall our 'Kanto Fishing Port Diary' press conference at Kanto Station;

the attendees were lead writers from the Asahi Shimbun, and their questions scrutinized cinematography and humanistic significance—the disparity is monumental."

Yamada Jun sighed, his fingers pressing rapidly on his pager: "Indeed. I spoke with former colleagues from Kanto Station yesterday. They mentioned that when Nohara Hiroshi filmed the Soba shop in Gunma, he even calculated the rotational speed of the owner milling flour, solely to capture the flour's texture. Look at our situation here;

Kamiki-san can't distinguish between tuna and salmon. Yesterday, while filming a noodle-boiling sequence, he identified miso soup as soy sauce, necessitating post-production dubbing—can such a product compare to 'A Bite'?"

Another editor who was poached from Kanto Station, Suzuki Nanako, also leaned over, her tone carrying a bit of shame: "I saw a reporter from Star's Exclusive Magazine just now actually asking Shunsuke-san if he 'would wear a swimsuit in the variety show.' If a question like this was asked at Kanto Station, they would have been kicked out long ago. What's the difference between what we're doing now and those small TV stations that rely on vulgar content to attract eyeballs?"

"It gets worse." Sato Takashi frowned deeply. "Yesterday I went to the editing room and saw that to make Shunsuke-san's shots more 'perfect,' they actually cut out all the shots of the restaurant owner, leaving only shots of Shunsuke-san making heart signs at the camera. How is this a food variety show? It's clearly a personal photobook!"

Yamada Jun shook his head, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "In the past, at Kanto Station, Suzuki Kiyoto-san always said, 'Content must satisfy oneself before it satisfies the audience.' Now look at us;

for the sake of ratings, even basic professionalism has been discarded. Have you heard? Nohara Hiroshi-kun's 'A Bite' has already secured a twenty-million-yen sponsorship from Marui Soy Sauce, and the Chiba Prefectural Office proactively requested samples for cultural ad tourism promotion. Here, aside from the Kirin Group's investment, we don't even have a legitimate advertiser;

we rely entirely on Shunsuke-san's fan support to keep up appearances."

Suzuki Nanako looked down at the meeting schedule in her hand. It said "Next is the fan interaction segment." She couldn't help but curl her lip: "I heard that Kanto Station is doing very well after merging with Tokyo Station. If I had known, I wouldn't have come here. Now look at me, I don't even have the opportunity to make proper films."

Sato Takashi patted her shoulder, his tone carrying a little helplessness: "Just wait a bit longer. If this variety show's ratings fail, maybe Executive Deputy Station Chief Takahashi will wake up. All we can do now is try to edit the film as decently as possible, lest we be outdone by Kanto Station and lose every last shred of dignity."

Just as the whispers below the stage were gradually spreading, Takahashi Kazuo suddenly raised his voice, pointing his microphone at the audience: "Media friends, do you have any other questions for Shunsuke-san or our team?"

A reporter from the Tokyo Sports Press raised his hand, and his question finally touched upon something "professional": "Executive Deputy Station Chief Takahashi, tonight your station's variety show will clash with Kanto Station's Nohara Hiroshi's 'A Bite of Neon'. What do you think is your station's advantage?"

Takahashi Kazuo cleared his throat, his tone tinged with disdain: "I've heard of Nohara-kun's documentary. It's nothing more than filming old fishermen and old shops;

the content is too antiquated. Contemporary audiences prefer fresh, fashionable content. Shunsuke-san's variety show features cuisine, celebrity interaction, and musical performances—such diversified content aligns with the demands of modern viewers. Furthermore, Shunsuke-san's massive fanbase guarantees a viewership contribution sufficient to surpass any documentary."

As soon as he finished speaking, Kamiki Shunsuke impatiently took the microphone, his smile turning somewhat arrogant: "I completely agree with Executive Deputy Station Chief Takahashi. I’ve seen excerpts of Director Nohara Hiroshi’s piece;

it's exceedingly tedious, entirely comprised of details no one cares about. Our variety show is disparate;

every minute holds highlights. I will personally instruct viewers on creating viral dishes, interact with fans via lotteries, and even disclose my romantic perspectives on the program!"

Fans below shrieked again;

Kamiki Shunsuke’s eyes were brimming with smugness. He paused, abruptly raising his voice, seemingly projecting it deliberately for universal comprehension: "Moreover, our variety show also features cuisine! Vastly more captivating than those archaic sashimis and Sobas. I am confident that upon the release of tonight's viewership ratings, society will recognize what constitutes genuinely beloved content. I shall subject Nohara Hiroshi-kun to the bitter taste of defeat, demonstrating that the allure of an idol cannot be matched by his monotonous documentaries!"

The declaration, akin to a stone cast into water, silenced the audience for a few seconds. Even the tabloid journalists froze, unprepared for Kamiki Shunsuke’s brazen provocation of Nohara Hiroshi.

Sato Takashi and Yamada Jun flushed a deep crimson. Seated upon the rostrum, profound discomfort overwhelmed them. Intimately aware of Nohara Hiroshi’s capabilities and the caliber of 'A Bite', they perceived Kamiki Shunsuke's remarks as nothing short of self-inflicted humiliation.

"Kamiki-san, isn't that statement perhaps too absolute?"

A reporter from the Yomiuri Shimbun couldn't help but speak up, "Nohara Hiroshi-kun's 'Seven Samurai' and 'Midnight Diner' both achieved excellent word-of-mouth, and the pre-release response for 'A Bite' is also good. Are you really that sure you can win?"

Kamiki Shunsuke's expression changed slightly, but he remained stubborn. "Word-of-mouth is word-of-mouth, ratings are ratings. The viewers who like 'Midnight Diner' are mostly middle-aged and elderly people. They aren't the main audience for prime time. My fans, on the other hand, are young people aged 15 to 25. They are the key to determining ratings. Besides, the Kirin Group will use all its resources to support me. What does Nohara Hiroshi-kun have? He's just a minor director at Tokyo Station."

Takahashi Kazuo quickly tried to smooth things over: "Shunsuke-san is just very confident, please don't misunderstand. We respect every peer and also look forward to healthy competition tonight—of course, we also believe that 'Shunsuke's Tokyo Roaming' will achieve better results."

But these words could no longer salvage the situation. The media below the stage began to whisper to each other, some taking out pens to record quickly, clearly having already thought of tomorrow's headline.

Others were taking pictures of the rostrum. In the lens, although Kamiki Shunsuke was still smiling, his eyes were already somewhat flustered.

Sato Takashi whispered to Yamada Jun: "It's over. As soon as Kamiki Shunsuke's words get out, tomorrow's newspapers will definitely make a big fuss about it. At that time, not only will we offend Nohara Hiroshi-kun, but City TV will also get a reputation of being 'arrogant and disrespectful'—how is this a press conference? It's simply destroying our own brand."

Yamada Jun sighed, looking down at the message just received on his pager: "News from Kanto Station. 'A Bite''s media scores are out. Seven film critics all gave perfect scores. Saeki Akira-san even said 'This is Japan's best humanities documentary in the past decade'—whereas here, we're still relying on provocation to attract eyeballs."

Kamiki Shunsuke on the rostrum also seemed to realize something was wrong. He stopped talking and just smiled stiffly at the audience.

Looking at the gradually cooling atmosphere below the stage, Takahashi Kazuo felt secretly anxious, but could only bite the bullet and announce: "Next is the fan interaction segment. Let's invite five lucky fans to the stage to take a group photo with Shunsuke-san!"

As music sounded, five fans wearing identical support clothes screamed and ran onto the stage, surrounding Kamiki Shunsuke for photos.

However, the media below the stage had lost their previous enthusiasm. Many started packing up their equipment, evidently having lost interest in the subsequent segments.

Watching the farce before him, Sato Takashi abruptly recalled words spoken by Suzuki Kiyoto during his tenure at Kanto Station: "Creating content is akin to preparing sushi;

ingredients must be fresh, technique must be solid. Pursuit of quick success will merely ruin your reputation."

He invariably looked out the window. In the distance, the Tokyo Station building shimmered with a warm glow under the setting sun. A pang of regret abruptly surged within his heart.

Had he not defected from Kanto Station, he too might be contributing to a sterling project like 'A Bite', rather than squandering his expertise accompanying a cohort reliant on superficial gimmicks to generate attention.

Following the press conference's conclusion, Sato Takashi and Yamada Jun exited the conference hall with the crowd.

In the corridor, Kamiki Shunsuke was swarmed by fans and reporters, with Takahashi Kazuo occupied managing the situation nearby;

no one spared them a glance.

"What do you think the ratings will be tonight?" Yamada Jun suddenly asked, his voice carrying a hint of bewilderment.

Sato Takashi shook his head, his tone heavy: "I don't know. But I do know that even if we win the ratings, we will lose reputation. Nohara Hiroshi's film will stand the test of time, while our variety show might be forgotten by next week."

The two walked in silence. The pale lighting in the corridor illuminated their exhausted figures.

From afar came Kamiki Shunsuke's laughter, sharp and grating, forming a stark contrast with the warm atmosphere of Kanto Station's press conference.

At this moment, at Kanto Station, Nohara Hiroshi was inspecting the projection equipment alongside his team.

Saito Shigeru crouched on the floor, adjusting audio levels;

Matsui Yuichi sorted film nearby;

Honda Sakurako held a notebook, confirming the evening's screening protocol with journalists.

The atmosphere in the conference room was serene and orderly. Every face bore anticipation, entirely unbothered by City TV's provocation.

Hiroshi gazed at the darkening sky outside, grasping a can of tuna gifted by Nomizu Masayasu. He abruptly recalled Misae's words at the comic club earlier: "Hiroshi-kun, irrespective of what others say, we believe your film is the finest."

A smile touched his lips as he turned to the group: "Prepare yourselves. Tonight, let the audience experience what true excellence looks like."

Saito Shigeru looked up, a rare steely resolve in his eyes, and nodded emphatically: "Rest assured, Hiroshi-kun, the equipment will absolutely not fail."

Matsui Yuichi also chimed in with a grin: "I've already phoned Nomizu-san. He will be positioned before his television tonight, and intends to watch alongside his fellow fishermen. We absolutely cannot disappoint them."

Soft illumination in the conference room accentuated their earnest expressions. Distinct from Tokyo City TV's clamor, this tranquility and certitude constitute the most robust foundation for "excellent content."

...

Just past seven o'clock, the streets of Tokyo gradually quieted down.

Usually at this time, the intersections of Shinjuku would still be packed with office workers heading home from work, and the department stores in Ginza would still be bustling with voices. But tonight, many people quickened their pace, gripping freshly bought bento boxes, their eyes full of urgency—they had to rush home before eight o'clock, turn on the TV, and wait for "A Bite of Neon" to air.

In the office of the Production Bureau of Tokyo Station, the lights were brightly lit.

Hashimoto Ichiro sat in the meeting room.

He periodically glanced at the wall clock, his brows slightly furrowed, muttering under his breath: "Verify the subtitles once more, no errors are permissible..."

Yamamoto Takeshi and Tanaka Kei also remained. Seated on the adjacent sofa, grasping canned coffee, they possessed no inclination to drink.

"Do you think the audience will connect with Nomizu-san's narrative?"

Tanaka Kei suddenly broke the silence, his tone tinged with anxiety. "I informed my wife this morning that 'A Bite' airs tonight. She deliberately acquired tuna sashimi, proposing we consume it contemporaneously with the broadcast."

Yamamoto Takeshi smiled, yet invariably checked the wall clock: "Rest assured, Hiroshi-kun's productions invariably deliver. Following the broadcast of 'Tales of the Unusual: The Midnight Bakery,' my mother was moved to tears, reminiscing about the old street of her childhood—'A Bite' is even warmer;

it will undoubtedly resonate with the audience."

As they spoke, Hiroshi pushed the door open and walked in, holding a newly printed ratings forecast report in his hand.

"Everyone, don't be nervous," he placed the report on the table, his tone still steady. "News just came in. The reservation viewing rate in the Kanto region has already broken 4%, which is higher than we expected."

Hashimoto Ichiro immediately leaned in, picked up the report, and flipped through a few pages, his eyes lighting up instantly: "Really? Then maybe we can break 5%! Higher than the premiere ratings of 'Midnight Diner'!"

Hiroshi smiled and nodded, but still cautioned: "Don't let your guard down. All we have to do now is ensure tonight's broadcast goes smoothly without any hitches.

Saito-san has already gone to Kanto Station to keep an eye on the equipment, and Matsui-san is at Nomizu-san's fish shop. They will shoot audience reactions—we just need to wait here for good news."

Meanwhile, in the screening room of Kanto Station, Saito Shigeru was squatting on the ground, holding a screwdriver, carefully adjusting the gears of the projector.

Suzuki Kiyoto stood nearby, leaning on his cane, his eyes full of anticipation. From time to time, he would ask: "Saito-kun, the equipment is fine, right? Don't let us down at the critical moment."

Saito Shigeru stood up, wiped the sweat from his forehead, his tone confident: "Don't worry, Suzuki-san. I've checked it five times. The film is warmed up, and there are no problems with the sound and picture."

The door to the screening room was suddenly pushed open, and Yamada Takashi and Fujishita Ken walked in, carrying several insulated lunch boxes.

"Thank you for your hard work, everyone!" Fujishita Ken smiled and placed the insulated boxes on the table. "These are tuna sushi that Nomizu-san specially had the fishermen bring over. They are still warm. Let's eat while we wait for the broadcast."

Suzuki Kiyoto picked up a piece of sushi, put it in his mouth, and his eyes instantly lit up: "Nomizu-san's craftsmanship is still the best! It's exactly the same as what was filmed in the documentary, so fresh!"

Yamada Takashi also took one and said while eating: "I just called Ishigami-san at the Chiba Prefectural Office. He said none of the prefectural office staff are working overtime tonight;

they are all going home to watch 'A Bite'. He also mentioned organizing discussions about the local culture featured in the film in the prefecture's schools tomorrow—our film is truly becoming increasingly meaningful."

Watching the lively scene, Saito Shigeru's lips curled into a rare smile.

He lifted a piece of sushi, slowly placing it in his mouth. A sudden realization washed over him: since joining Hiroshi in filming "A Bite," he seemed to have rediscovered his initial passion for the technical arts—no longer documenting monotonous local news, but capturing content imbued with warmth and significance. This sensation yielded deeper fulfillment than any accolade.

Similarly, within the Chiba Prefecture seafood market, Nomizu Masayasu's fish stall was brilliantly illuminated.

The stall teemed with people: local fishermen, regular patrons, and numerous diners who had journeyed specifically from Tokyo. Nomizu Masayasu, clad in deep blue fishing waders and grasping a cloth, was polishing the counter;

his face, however, failed to conceal his elation.

"Nomizu-san, tonight's feature will indubitably be a hit!" A regular patron grinned. "I read the Asahi Shimbun this morning;

it stated the reservation viewing rate for 'A Bite' is exceptionally high, surpassing even City TV's idol variety show!"

Nomizu Masayasu smiled and nodded, his eyes full of gratitude: "It's all thanks to Hiroshi-kun. If it weren't for him, how could the story of an old fisherman like me be known to so many people."

As they spoke, Matsui Yuichi walked in carrying a camera, followed by Honda Sakurako.

"Nomizu-san, we're here to film the audience's reactions!" Matsui Yuichi said with a smile. "Hiroshi-kun specially instructed us to film everyone's faces while watching the film, maybe it can be put into the subsequent promotion."

Nomizu Masayasu immediately greeted everyone: "Everyone sit down, don't be formal, just watch it like you normally do—we want to show everyone in Japan the spirit of our Chiba fishermen!"

The people in the shop quickly sat properly, their eyes fixed on the television on the wall. Honda Sakurako pulled out her notebook, noting entirely: "7:50 PM, thirty individuals assembled at Nomizu Fish Shop, comprising predominantly local fishermen and established patrons. Anticipation demonstrably acute..."

Meanwhile, within Gunma Prefecture's old street, Sato Kosuke's Soba shop was similarly filled to capacity.

Sato Kenta lingered beside his father, grasping newly printed "Satoya" flyers. A trace of sheepishness colored his expression: "Dad, I requested time off from the company today, specifically returning to watch the broadcast with you."

Sato Kosuke froze momentarily, subsequently clapping his son’s shoulder, his eyes reddening slightly: "Excellent, excellent. We shall watch together, father and son."

The shop's regular patrons also chuckled and remarked: "Sato-san, your son has matured! Following tonight's broadcast, our old street's Soba will unequivocally gain popularity. You must employ additional staff to assist!"

Sato Kosuke smiled and nodded, his gaze riveted to the television screen. He recalled Hiroshi's words during filming: "Sato-san, your persistence will allow more people to appreciate the preciousness of old craftsmanship."

Now, he was finally going to see his story brought to the television screen, feeling both nervous and expectant in his heart.

In the Takahashi family's home in Saitama Prefecture, the atmosphere was also exceptionally warm.

Takahashi Keiko brought out the freshly made oden and placed it on the coffee table in the living room. Takahashi Kenichi and his father sat on the sofa, holding beers, their eyes fixed on the TV.

"Mom, will our family be in the film tonight?" Takahashi Kenichi asked curiously.

Takahashi Keiko smiled and nodded: "Hiroshi-kun said that our family's New Year's Eve dinner will be broadcast in the third episode. Then people all over the country will be able to see the food mom makes!"

Takahashi Kenichi immediately became excited: "That's great! I'll tell my classmates and make them all watch! Our family is going to be famous!"

The father smiled and stroked his son's head, his eyes full of warmth: "It's not our family that's going to be famous, it's the life of an ordinary family like ours that's going to be known to more people. Hiroshi-kun is a good director. he understands the hardships of ordinary people like us, and he also understands our happiness."

Time ticked by, and the hands of the clock on the wall slowly approached eight o'clock.

On the streets of Tokyo, the sound of television sets came from almost all the windows with lights on.

In the izakayas of Shinjuku, the owners specially tuned the TVs to Kanto Station. Guests put down their glasses and stared at the screens. In the department stores of Ginza, staff also gathered in the rest areas, waiting for "A Bite" to start.

In the office of Tokyo City TV, Takahashi Kazuo sat at his desk, holding a viewing monitoring report in his hand, his expression turning increasingly grim.

"What's going on? Why is our reservation viewing rate so much lower than Kanto Station's?" he roared into the phone. "Where are Kamiki Shunsuke's fans? Didn't they say they would be glued to the TV to watch?"

A staff member's voice came from the other end of the phone: "Executive Deputy Station Chief Takahashi, according to monitoring, many young viewers have switched to Kanto Station, saying they want to see if 'A Bite' is really good..."

Takahashi Kazuo abruptly hung up the receiver, hurling the report onto the desk, his eyes burning with outrage.

Recalling Kamiki Shunsuke's assertions earlier that day, a sudden kernel of unease sprouted within him—had he truly underestimated Nohara Hiroshi, underestimated the potency of this documentary?

Meanwhile, within Tokyo Station's conference room, the wall clock definitively aligned at eight o'clock.

Hiroshi, Hashimoto Ichiro, Yamamoto Takeshi, and Tanaka Kei rose in unison, their eyes fixed on the projection screen.

As the opening theme commenced, the sound of ocean waves resonated gently. The screen revealed the Chiba seafood market shrouded in morning mist—Nomizu Masayasu's hands, methodically untying the mooring rope, progressively centralized within the frame.

The conference room silenced instantaneously;

everyone held their breath, observing the screen. Hashimoto Ichiro gripped his notebook, his fingers trembling subtly.

Yamamoto Takeshi and Tanaka Kei similarly neglected their coffee, their unblinking eyes glued to the visual sequence.

Hiroshi, positioned at the forefront, watched Nomizu Masayasu actively hauling the net on screen, a profound tranquility enveloping him.

From this moment, those narratives imbued with warmth, the steadfast dedication of ordinary individuals, would be witnessed by audiences across Japan.

And this was the foundational intent of his content creation—not for viewership ratings, nor for fame and fortune, but to illuminate for a wider populace that the warmth inherent within ordinary existence constitutes the paramount treasure.

On screen, Nomizu Masayasu's voice emanated steadily: "The sea gives what it gives, and we eat what it gives, we can't be greedy."

Within the conference room, no one spoke, yet everyone's eyes glinted.

The Tokyo nightscape beyond the window was exceptionally dazzling, yet the solitary beam within the screening room radiated a warmth surpassing any illumination—it illuminated the narratives of ordinary people, simultaneously illuminating the future of the Japanese broadcasting industry.

"A Bite of Neon," amidst immense anticipation, finally premiered.

PS: Still asking for recommendation tickets!

(Chapter Ends)