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

Chapter 247: Storm! Storm! Storm! A Storm No One Expected! It's Blowing Now!

Exactly at 9:00 PM, just past the midpoint of the 'A Bite of Neon' episode one rebroadcast, an earth-shattering cheer erupted within Kanto Station's data monitoring room.

A technician sprinted madly towards the conference room, brandishing a freshly printed ratings report, the paper rustling violently in the wind of his dash.

"It broke! It broke the record!"

The technician threw open the conference room doors, his voice trembling with visible agitation. "The nationwide real-time viewership has surged past 24%! The Kansai region exceeded 18%, and Hokkaido is at 15%. This is the highest viewership for a documentary in the past decade!"

The individuals actively deliberating subsequent promotional strategies froze instantaneously. Suzuki Kiyoto's cane thudded against the floor. He advanced rapidly, snatching the report, disregarding his reading glasses slipping down his nose.

Upon registering the glaring '24.1%', the silver-haired Executive Deputy Station Chief's eyes reddened abruptly, his voice choking: "Excellent... excellent! Kanto Station has finally produced a film that all of Japan will remember!"

Yamada Takashi wrested the report away, his fingers repeatedly tracing the digits, seemingly verifying it wasn't an illusion: "24%! Five percentage points higher than the peak viewership of 'Kanto Fishing Song' back then! Nomizu-san's fish shop just called, saying the entrance is packed with reporters, even NHK went to interview him!"

Nohara Hiroshi stood by the window, holding the pager message Misae had just sent—"Hiroshi-kun! The whole comic club is cheering! We decided to go to Chiba tomorrow to eat sashimi!"

He looked at the night view of Tokyo outside the window. In the distance, the Tokyo Tower was lit with warm yellow lights, and on the street below, there were even young people raising their glasses and cheering.

Asumi patted Hiroshi's shoulder, his tone full of admiration: "Hiroshi-kun, you've created a miracle again. Who would have thought before that a documentary with no stars and no gimmicks could make all of Japan go crazy?" Hiroshi turned his head and smiled, his eyes still calm: "It's not me who created a miracle, it's the stories of those ordinary people that touched everyone. Nomizu-san's perseverance, Sato-san's dedication, and the warmth of the Takahashi family—these are the most authentic lives, and the audience can feel the warmth inside."

While they were conversing, Matsui Yuichi charged in, carrying his camera, his face still speckled with sea salt—he had just rushed back from Nomizu Masayasu's fish shop.

"Hiroshi-kun! Look quickly, everyone!" He connected the camera to the television. On the screen, Nomizu Masayasu was surrounded by journalists. Holding the canned tuna Hiroshi had gifted him earlier, he stated passionately: "I am overjoyed that more individuals can understand the lives of fishermen! Starting tomorrow, I will reserve a larger quantity of fresh tuna daily, ensuring everyone can taste the ocean!"

Honda Sakurako, clutching a notebook, recorded rapidly: "The Chiba Prefectural Government just transmitted a message. Tomorrow, they will inaugurate 'A Bite Express' buses dedicated to transporting tourists to Nomizu-san's fish shop. Travel agencies have already initiated pre-sales for 'Soba Cultural Tour' itineraries in Gunma's old street;

their reservation lines are nearly overwhelmed!"

Takada Toshihide pushed up his glasses, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips: "Marui Soy Sauce just contacted me. They intend to supplement their sponsorship with an additional fifty million yen, and they plan to distribute the 'A Bite Limited Edition' soy sauce nationally. News from Shueisha indicates that sales of the 'Midnight Diner' manga tripled tonight;

they request that you capitalize on this momentum by releasing an eponymous 'A Bite' manga adaptation."

The atmosphere in the conference room intensified. Clustered around the report, everyone actively deliberated subsequent strategies. Even the typically reticent Saito Shigeru interjected: "For the forthcoming shoot at the Kyoto traditional sweets shop, I intend to experiment with soft lighting to accentuate the frosting's texture;

it should vastly improve the aesthetics."

Observing the bustling scene before him, Hiroshi abruptly recalled the day he transmigrated—he had lingered outside Tokyo Station grasping his resume, uncertain of securing even a Level 4 Director position.

Now, not merely did he command his proprietary Production Department, but he had directed a production that galvanized the entire nation.

He retrieved his phone and dialed Misae's number. The girl's elated voice immediately resonated from the receiver: "Hiroshi-kun! Did you hear? The viewership surpassed 24%! Can we actually go eat sashimi tomorrow?"

"Of course," Hiroshi's tone was gentle. "Tomorrow, I'll have Matsui-san drive, and we'll all go together."

Hanging up the phone, Hiroshi turned to everyone and said: "Thank you for your hard work, everyone. Get a good rest tonight, there is still a lot of work to do tomorrow."

His gaze swept over the smiles on everyone's faces, knowing in his heart that this victory was just a beginning—he wanted to film more stories with warmth, so that more people could see the beauty in ordinary life.

...

Simultaneously, the monitoring conference room at Tokyo City TV felt as if enveloped in the bitterest winter chill.

The Technical Department head, grasping the recently printed viewership report, approached Takahashi Kazuo with profound trepidation, his voice barely exceeding a whisper: "E-Executive Deputy Station Chief Takahashi, the final viewership figures have been finalized... Our station registered 1.9%, whilst Kanto Station achieved 24.1%..."

"Smack!" Takahashi Kazuo furiously slammed the table, overturning his coffee cup. The brown liquid cascaded over the edge, saturating the "1.9%" printed on the report.

He snatched the report, his eyes fixated obsessively upon the digit, his knuckles whitening from exertion: "1.9%? Inconceivable! What of Kamiki-san's fan mobilization? The Kirin Group's promotional campaign? Has it all been squandered?"

Kamiki Shunsuke abruptly stood up, his chair scraping sharply against the floorboards.

He snatched the report away. Upon seeing the number "24.1%", his face instantly turned deathly pale, then flushed a deep purple-red.

"Impossible! This must be fake!" He tore the report to shreds, the pieces of paper flying all over the floor. "How could that trash documentary filmed by Nohara Hiroshi possibly have such high ratings? Kanto Station must have faked the numbers!"

"Faked?" Sato Takashi, sitting in the corner, finally couldn't help but speak up, his tone full of mockery. "Audiences all over Japan are discussing 'A Bite', even NHK reported on it, how could they fake it? Look at the comments online yourself. Everyone is saying your variety show is ridiculously fake. You had to NG dozens of times just to cut sushi, and you have the nerve to criticize others?"

"Shut up!"

Kamiki Shunsuke turned his head and glared at Sato Takashi, his eyes full of anger. "If you hadn't filmed it so poorly, how could my variety show have lost? You were a failure at Kanto Station before, and now that you're at City TV, you're still useless trash!"

Yamada Jun quickly stood up to smooth things over: "Shunsuke-san, Sato-san, now is not the time to argue. We have to figure out a way to salvage the situation, otherwise we won't be able to explain it to Mayor Tanaka..."

"Salvage the situation? How do we salvage it?" The director of City TV's planning department slumped in his chair, his tone laden with despair. "With TV ratings of 24%, how can we catch up? Now all of Japan is watching 'A Bite', who would watch our variety show?"

"It's all your fault!"

City TV Director Suzuki Nanako suddenly pointed at Takahashi Kazuo, her eyes red. "If we hadn't clashed schedules with Kanto Station, our ratings wouldn't be this miserable! You insisted on going against Nohara Hiroshi just to curry favor with Mayor Tanaka, and now look, you've completely embarrassed City TV!"

"My fault?"

Takahashi Kazuo sneered, his eyes filled with venom. "If Kamiki Shunsuke hadn't failed at making even simple sushi, if you hadn't been incapable of framing decent content, would we have experienced this defeat? Nohara Hiroshi employed dramatic television paradigms to execute a documentary;

why did you fail to conceptualize this? Every single one of you is utterly incompetent!"

"You dare criticize us?" Kamiki Shunsuke advanced, pointing directly at Takahashi Kazuo's face. "Initially, you asserted that my cooperation guaranteed an exclusive variety program. And now? The viewership is catastrophic, and you possess the audacity to attribute blame to me? You are manifestly a useless Deputy Station Chief!"

"You dare insult me?" Takahashi Kazuo shook with rage, raising his hand to strike Kamiki Shunsuke, but was forcefully restrained by Yamada Jun.

"Stop fighting!"

Yamada Jun shouted loudly, his voice exhausted. "What's the point of fighting now? Mayor Tanaka gave us three days. If we can't come up with a solution, we all have to pack up and leave!"

The conference room instantly quieted down, leaving only the sound of everyone's heavy breathing. Everyone's face was written full of resentment, despair, and unwillingness—they originally thought they could easily beat the documentary with Kamiki Shunsuke's traffic, but they didn't expect to lose so miserably, leaving not even a little room for recovery.

Kamiki Shunsuke slumped in his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling.

He recalled his proclamation during the diurnal press conference—"I shall subject Nohara Hiroshi to the bitter taste of defeat";

retrospectively, it represented a colossal absurdity.

He retrieved his phone, accessing his communication history with Watanabe Toru, his trembling digits inputting a directive: "Immediately deploy the 'material' concerning Nomizu Masayasu's fish shop. Regardless of methodology employed, the reputation of 'A Bite' must be obliterated!"

Observing the shredded report and the venomous glares permeating the room, an ominous premonition solidified within Takahashi Kazuo.

He recognized this catastrophe wouldn't merely vaporize Tanaka Mikami's confidence in him, but potentially necessitate his resignation as Deputy Station Chief.

He extracted his pager, expeditiously transmitting a message to Tanaka Mikami: "Mayor, we shall formulate a resolution expeditiously;

we guarantee your expectations will not be betrayed."

However, internally, he knew this was mere self-deception—confronting a 24% viewership deficit and the nationwide validation of 'A Bite', their prospects for recovery were nonexistent.

...

At 10:00 PM that night, the viewership data for 'A Bite of Neon' proliferated across every broadcasting station in Japan as if winged.

In the Production Department conference room of Osaka Yomiuri TV, Department Manager Matsumoto Kiyoshi held the ratings report, his fingers repeatedly caressing the '24.1%' figure, his eyes wide with astonishment.

"24%..." He sighed, his tone brimming with admiration. "That boy, Nohara Hiroshi, has truly engineered a miracle. Who could have previously anticipated a humanistic documentary achieving such phenomenal viewership?"

Beside him, Director Yamada Keisuke concurred, his tone validating the sentiment: "I just reviewed the rebroadcast. Unquestionably, Nohara Hiroshi's cinematic technique is formidable. He imbued a documentary with the pacing of a television drama—incorporating exposition, climaxes, and emotional resonance. Analyze the sequence of Nomizu Masayasu retrieving the net;

it concurrently illustrates the fishermen's tribulations while accentuating his reverence for the ocean. We meticulously study such nuanced emotional articulation."

"Indeed."

Another director, Sato Takashi, appended, "Historically, our gastronomic programming prioritized culinary preparation over the individuals responsible. Nohara Hiroshi fundamentally diverged;

he prioritized the human element, utilizing cuisine merely as a vessel. This 'human-centric' cinematic philosophy undeniably constitutes the catalyst for 'A Bite's' triumph."

Matsumoto Kiyoshi lowered the report, his gaze resolute: "Tomorrow, we convene a departmental assembly, mandating universal viewing of 'A Bite'. We must assimilate Nohara Hiroshi's cinematic methodologies to re-engineer the 'Osaka Culinary Chronicles' proposal. The priority is documenting the artisans behind Okonomiyaki and Takoyaki, amplifying their narratives and emotional resonance."

...

The atmosphere within the conference room of Nagoya's Chubu Nippon Broadcasting was exceptionally fervent.

Grasping the viewership report, the Station Chief addressed the directors: "Nohara Hiroshi has delivered a profound pedagogy! Our historical assumption posited a distinct lack of demographic interest regarding documentaries;

however, 'A Bite's' 24% viewership definitively validates that superior content commands audience engagement. Our subsequent imperative entails intensive analysis of 'A Bite's' narrative architecture to facilitate the production of an authentic Nagoya gastronomic documentary."

"I propose we commence with Nagoya's eel rice."

A junior director asserted enthusiastically, "I am acquainted with a fifty-year-old eel rice establishment. The proprietor undertook apprenticeship under his father at fifteen regarding eel grilling techniques. Currently, his son eschews succession, resulting in frequent familial conflict. The inherent tension within this narrative mirrors the dynamic between Sato Kosuke and his son within 'A Bite'."

The Station Chief nodded affirmatively: "Excellent! We initiate production utilizing this eel rice establishment. Initiate communication with the proprietor tomorrow. The mandate is the documentation of their authentic narrative—forbid staged scenarios or calculated emotional manipulation. Emulate 'A Bite';

rely upon nuanced detail to evoke demographic resonance."

...

In the conference room of Sapporo Hokkaido Broadcasting, editors were also immersed in fervent discussion.

"The soundtrack in 'A Bite' is absolutely phenomenal!"

An editor asserted, "The synthesis of ocean waves and piano composition is impeccably calibrated;

it elevates the atmosphere without overshadowing the visual narrative. When executing our Hokkaido seafood documentary, the integration of regional traditional instrumentation, specifically the shamisen, synchronized with ocean acoustics, will effectively accentuate Hokkaido's distinct character."

"Furthermore, the cinematic language!"

Another editor appended, "Nohara Hiroshi utilized side lighting to capture Nomizu Masayasu's hands, accentuating the calluses' texture, generating immense narrative depth. We should employ analogous methodologies when filming salmon fishermen, highlighting their sustained injuries to demonstrate their labor's severity."

The entirety of Japan's broadcasting network was staggered by the triumph of 'A Bite'. The industry universally ceased its disparagement of documentaries, pivoting instead towards a rigorous analysis of Nohara Hiroshi's cinematic methodologies—narrative architectures, cinematic language, soundtrack curation, and character actualization were all subjected to exhaustive scrutiny.

Numerous stations established dedicated analytical task forces. They delineated 'A Bite' into specific sequences, executing frame-by-frame analyses to extract applicable methodologies, aspiring to ultimately generate their proprietary masterpieces.

Concurrently, this entire phenomenon aligned precisely with Nohara Hiroshi's projections.

He recognized 'A Bite's' triumph catalyzed not merely the evolution of the documentary genre, but strategically redirected creative focus towards the narratives of ordinary citizens, thereby injecting profound warmth into the Japanese broadcasting industry.

...

The following morning, immediately upon Nohara Hiroshi's arrival at Kanto Station, he was intercepted by Hattori Tadashi at the entrance.

The Tokyo Metropolitan Publicity Manager had made a special trip over.

Holding a thick file in his hand and smiling broadly: "Hiroshi-kun, congratulations! The success of 'A Bite' exceeded everyone's expectations. Governor Koike specifically asked me to consult you, intending to utilize 'A Bite' as a cultural calling card for Tokyo Metropolis to promote nationwide, and even overseas."

Hiroshi took the file and quickly flipped through a few pages. It detailed the promotion plan—including broadcasting 'A Bite' in primary and secondary schools nationwide as local culture educational material;

playing the 'A Bite' trailer at Tokyo's international airports to attract foreign tourists;

and translating 'A Bite' into multiple languages to participate in international documentary festivals.

"No problem," Hiroshi nodded, his tone showing strong agreement. "It's a good thing to let more people understand Japan's food culture and the stories of ordinary people. However, I hope the promotional process will not be overly commercialized and will not destroy the authenticity of the film."

"Rest assured!" Hattori Tadashi said with a smile, "Governor Koike specifically instructed that everything must be based on the quality of the film. Also, the governors of Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures contacted me, wanting to collaborate with you to film local specialty foods. What do you think?"

Hiroshi pondered for a moment and said: "Acceptable. However, I priorly intend to conclude the filming of the Kyoto traditional sweets shop. Kyoto's confectionery involves numerous traditional crafts;

the production of 'Nama Yatsuhashi', for example, necessitates meticulous manual dexterity. Moreover, the proprietors possess individual narratives worthy of documentation."

Hattori Tadashi concurred: "Excellent! I will communicate with the three prefectural Governors, deferring collaboration until post-Kyoto filming. Additionally, Mr. Shimazu Yoshihiro engaged me yesterday, expressing a desire to leverage 'A Bite's' momentum to inaugurate a 'Culinary Cultural Festival' within Chiba, soliciting the presence of Nomizu Masayasu, Sato Kosuke, and others. Are you amenable to functioning as a consultant for the festival?"

"Unquestionably." Hiroshi smiled. "I am unequivocally delighted to assist in directing greater attention towards traditional crafts and supporting the enterprises of ordinary citizens."

After seeing Hattori Tadashi out, Hiroshi walked into the conference room and found that everyone had arrived early. The subsequent filming plans for "A Bite" were laid out on the table.

Matsui Yuichi said excitedly: "Hiroshi-kun, Nomizu-san just called and said he wants to collaborate with us to open an 'A Bite' themed fish shop, selling fresh tuna and limited edition soy sauce. What do you think?"

"Acceptable."

Hiroshi nodded, "However, caution is necessitated regarding the over-commercialization of the 'A Bite' IP. The absolute prerequisite entails the guarantee of ingredient freshness and quality, ensuring the audience's trust remains unviolated."

Honda Sakurako continued, "An editor from Shueisha just contacted me. They want you to write a manga adaptation of 'A Bite', focusing on the stories of Nomizu-san, Sato-san, and the others. Do you have time for that?"

Hiroshi considered the proposition momentarily: "I can allocate the requisite time, but I require the comic club's assistance. Misae and the team previously assisted me with the coloring for 'Doraemon' and possess substantial expertise;

their integration is advisable."

"Excellent!" Honda Sakurako smiled. "Misae-chan lamented yesterday regarding her exclusion from 'A Bite's' production;

this will undeniably elevate her spirits."

The conference proceeded throughout the morning, finalizing subsequent filming trajectories for 'A Bite': prioritizing the Kyoto traditional sweets shop, subsequently progressing to the distinct culinary offerings of Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama Prefectures. Concurrently, the 'A Bite' manga adaptation and associated merchandise (such as 'A Bite Limited Edition' soy sauce and canned tuna) would be launched. Plans were also formulated for a Tokyo-based 'A Bite' exposition, featuring production props and photography, thereby deepening the audience's understanding of the documentary's genesis.

During the lunch recess, Hiroshi received a call from Misae.

The girl's excited voice came through the receiver: "Hiroshi-kun! Everyone at our manga club is ready! We're going to Chiba tomorrow to eat sashimi! Matsui-san said he'll drive over to pick us up, is that right?"

"Yes."

Hiroshi smiled and said, "I'll wait for you at the entrance of the comic club tomorrow at 9 AM. By the way, the editor at Shueisha really liked the illustrations of Kumamon and Soba you drew earlier and wants to use them for the cover of the 'A Bite' manga. Are you willing to do it?"

"Willing! I'm very willing!" Misae's voice was full of excitement. "I'll go revise the illustration right now, and I guarantee the editor will be satisfied!"

Hanging up the phone, Hiroshi looked at the sunlight outside the window, feeling full of warmth in his heart.

He knew that "A Bite's" success was not the terminus, but the genesis—he intended to persist filming, disseminating the narratives of ordinary citizens to a wider demographic, enabling more individuals to experience the beauty and warmth inherent in ordinary existence.

And this represented the foundational rationale for his transmigration to this world—utilizing his talent to manufacture content imbued with warmth, illuminating the light within a mundane reality.

...

At 8:30 AM on October 16th, a beige coach bus was parked firmly outside the "Future Comic Club".

Matsui Yuichi, wearing a gray jacket, was leaning against the door checking the camera. Seeing Nohara Hiroshi approaching, he immediately smiled and waved: "Hiroshi-kun, the equipment is all tested. We can set off as soon as Misae-chan and the others come out."

Hiroshi nodded. As soon as he stood still, he heard a commotion behind him—Misae, wearing a goose-yellow dress, was leading seven or eight young manga artists walking quickly towards them. Everyone was carrying a small backpack and their faces were full of excitement.

Sato Rina was even holding a camera, snapping pictures of the bus incessantly and mumbling to herself: "I definitely have to take lots of photos so I can draw them into the 'A Bite' doujinshi manga later!"

"Hiroshi-kun!" Misae ran to Hiroshi's side, holding up a drawing. "Look at the revised Kumamon cover. The editor said it looks cuter this way. What do you think?"

On the manuscript, Kumamon held tuna sushi, accompanied by the inscription "A Bite Limited Edition" rendered in pink typography;

the line work was substantially rounder than the previous iteration.

Hiroshi received the manuscript, indicating Kumamon's ears: "The addition of two wavy lines here, simulating wind deflection, will augment the dynamic energy."

Misae immediately pulled out a pencil to make the edit. The other manga artists also gathered around. Yamada Keisuke looked at the drawing and sighed: "Hiroshi-kun can even notice such small details. No wonder 'Doraemon' is so popular."

Everyone boarded the bus one after another, and it slowly drove out of the city.

As soon as they got on the highway, Sato Rina couldn't help but stand up and yell to the people in the bus: "Everyone, don't just sit there! Let's ask Hiroshi-kun about interesting things that happened while filming 'A Bite'! I've always been curious, how many times did you shoot Nomizu-san's net-hauling scene before you succeeded?"

The cabin instantaneously resonated with animated chatter as numerous individuals echoed the sentiment.

Misae sat beside Hiroshi, swinging her legs and inquired: "Hiroshi-kun, what was the genesis of your decision to document a fisherman's narrative? I presupposed you would prioritize Tokyo's viral restaurants."

Hiroshi reclined against his seat, his tone tranquil: "During an excursion to Chiba last year for location scouting, I observed Nomizu-san heading out to sea at 3:00 AM. Despite his callused hands bleeding during net retrieval, he persevered. At that juncture, I concluded that, relative to glamorous restaurants, the dedication of these ordinary individuals inherently warranted documentation."

"Wow!" Sato Rina pulled out a notebook and started writing quickly. "Then was it really tense when you were shooting the tuna auction? I saw in the film that the auctioneer's bidding rhythm was so fast. How did you capture such clear shots?"

"We communicated with the auction market three days in advance, and Saito-san specifically adjusted a telephoto lens," Hiroshi recalled. "On the morning of the auction, we went to reserve our spots at 5 AM. We shot the scene eight times before capturing the most natural bidding footage—the speaking speed those auctioneers have developed over the years is harder to capture than lines in a TV drama."

Yamada Keisuke rested his chin in his hand, his eyes full of admiration: "Hiroshi-kun, you're amazing! I heard that when shooting the samurai duel in 'Seven Samurai', to restore realistic kendo movements, you specifically invited a tenth-dan kendo master to guide it? I couldn't even draw the details of a samurai's armor properly in a short manga I did before, I'm way too far behind you."

Hiroshi smiled: "Dedication is imperative within any discipline. When illustrating armor, consulting tangible artifacts within a museum is recommended. Pay rigorous attention to the configuration of the armor plates and the methodology of fastening. The greater the veracity of the details, the higher the reader's immersion."

The discourse within the cabin progressively intensified. Inquiries ranged from the scriptwriting process for "Tales of the Unusual" to the conceptual origins of "Kasou Taishou";

Hiroshi patiently addressed each query.

Observing Hiroshi's composure, Sato Rina stealthily whispered to Misae: "President Misae, Hiroshi-kun maintains absolute tranquility regardless of the subject matter. It's comprehensible why observers liken him to a politician—I could never emulate an aura capable of remaining unflinching even if Mount Tai collapsed before me."

Misae proudly tilted her chin upwards: "But of course! Hiroshi-kun is capable of producing a documentary with 24% viewership!" She proceeded to distribute snacks from her backpack;

the cabin was saturated with the aroma of snacks and joyous laughter, rendering even the passing agricultural fields exceptionally picturesque.

At 11:00 AM, the coach bus arrived at the Chiba Seafood Market.

As soon as they got off the bus, everyone was stunned by the sight before them—Nomizu Masayasu's fish shop was crowded with people, a line stretching from the door all the way to the market entrance. There were also reporters holding cameras and conducting interviews, flashbulbs flashing constantly.

"My god, so many people!" Sato Rina couldn't help but exclaim. "It's even livelier than the anime convention in Tokyo!"

Nomizu Masayasu wore deep blue waders and was busy packaging tuna for customers. Seeing Hiroshi and the others coming, he immediately smiled and waved: "Hiroshi-kun! Misae-chan! You're finally here! Come in and take a seat, I specially saved the best tuna belly for you!"

Everyone followed Nomizu Masayasu into the fish shop, and it was even more lively inside than outside—the few tables were all full of guests, some were taking pictures of the sashimi with their phones, and some were eating and saying: "This is the tuna from 'A Bite', right? It really is fresher than other shops!"

Nomizu Masayasu led everyone to a small table in the back room and sighed helplessly: "Hiroshi-kun, this is the distress of being famous. In the past, I only sold thirty catties of tuna a day. Now I have to sell two hundred catties a day. The fishermen can hardly keep up. Yesterday, someone from a travel agency came to me, wanting to change the fish shop into a tourist attraction. I didn't even know how to refuse."

Misae smiled and said: "Nomizu-san, this is a good thing! Let more people taste your tuna, how great!"

Nomizu Masayasu scratched his head: "That's what they say, but I still just want to peacefully prepare my fish. Yesterday, a customer insisted I perform a sashimi slicing demonstration, claiming they intended to record it and submit it to a television network. I lacked the audacity to refuse—my craftsmanship hardly warrants a theatrical exhibition."

Seeing Nomizu Masayasu's helpless expression, Hiroshi's tone was gentle: "If you feel exhausted, communicate definitively with the travel agency;

there is no obligation to coerce yourself. Your foundational intention regarding fish preparation was to facilitate the appreciation of fresh flavor, not to capriciously satisfy extraneous demands."

Nomizu Masayasu's eyes lit up, and he nodded repeatedly: "Hiroshi-kun is right! When I'm done with this busy period, I'll make it clear to them. By the way, try the tuna belly I cut. It was just pulled out of the sea today, it's very fresh!"

He brought over a plate of sashimi as he spoke, the texture of the tuna gleamed pink under the light, with wasabi and soy sauce placed next to it.

Misae picked up a piece with her chopsticks and put it in her mouth, her eyes instantly widened: "Wow! It's even better than the sushi restaurants in Tokyo! It melts in your mouth and isn't greasy at all!"

The other manga artists also began to taste it. Sato Rina ate while taking pictures: "It's so delicious! I'm going to draw this scene and title it 'The Gift of the Sea'!"

Amidst the liveliness, an abrupt altercation erupted near the fish shop's entrance.

Nomizu Masayasu furrowed his brow: "What is transpiring? I will investigate."

The group followed. Three delinquent youths with dyed yellow hair lingered at the entrance. The ringleader, aggressively gesturing at a patron, vociferated: "You consumed our boss's tuna;

consequently, he is currently experiencing severe gastrointestinal distress. Immediate financial compensation is mandated!"

The customer was a middle-aged man, still holding unfinished sashimi, his face flushed red: "I don't even know your boss! I just bought this tuna, how could there be a problem?"

"You still dare to argue!" The yellow-haired youth took a step forward and reached out to push the middle-aged man. "Our boss said, if you don't pay 50,000 yen today, don't even think about opening this crappy shop anymore!"

The customers in front of the fish shop gathered around, and someone whispered: "This is definitely an extortion attempt. I saw them wandering around the market for a long time just now, waiting for a chance to make trouble."

Others retrieved their pagers, preparing to contact the authorities.

Misae clenched her fists in anger, walked up to the yellow-haired youth, glared, and said: "You guys are going too far! Nomizu-san's tuna was all pulled from the sea today, how could there be a problem? It must be that your boss ate something else that upset his stomach and deliberately came here to find fault!"

The yellow-haired boy looked Misae up and down, sneering: "What do you know, little girl? If you dare to talk too much, we'll teach you a lesson too!"

Yamada Keisuke immediately stepped in front of Misae, his tone serious: "We have someone calling the police already, you'd better leave quickly, or when the police arrive, you'll be in trouble!"

The yellow-haired boy's expression darkened, but he remained stubborn: "Call the police? You think I'm scared? You have to pay up today, or I'll smash your shop!"

As he spoke, he reached out to overturn the adjacent fish stall. Nomizu Masayasu hastily intervened, resulting in a physical impasse.

Hiroshi, standing nearby with furrowed brows, was on the precipice of utilizing his phone to contact Chiba Prefectural authorities when the wail of sirens manifested in the distance.

Everyone turned their heads and saw several police cars approaching, stopping at the entrance of the fish shop. Over a dozen police officers quickly walked over, led by a middle-aged man in a suit, who was none other than Kawabe Hidematsu, the Deputy Mayor of Chiba City.

"Stop!"

Kawabe Hidematsu shouted loudly, and the police immediately stepped forward to subdue the three delinquent youths.

He walked over to Nomizu Masayasu, bowed, and apologized first: "Nomizu-san, I am sorry that you had to suffer such a grievance, it is our failure to do a good job in security."

Then he turned to Hiroshi, smiled, and stretched out his hand: "Hiroshi-kun, long time no see. Last time we had a meeting at the Tokyo Metropolitan Government, I didn't have time to have a good chat with you about 'A Bite'."

Hiroshi shook his hand, his tone calm: "Kawabe-san, thank you for coming all the way here. What's going on with these people?"

Kawabe Hidematsu sighed, his eyes full of anger: "Yesterday I received news that a delinquent gang wanted to take advantage of the popularity of 'A Bite' to extort money at the fish shop, so I specially brought the police over to patrol. I didn't expect them to still find an opportunity—Chiba City finally became famous thanks to 'A Bite', if anyone dares to delay the development here, I will absolutely not let them off!"

"Well said!"

The customers in front of the fish shop applauded. The middle-aged man walked up to Kawabe Hidematsu and said gratefully: "Thank you, Deputy Mayor, for arriving in time, otherwise I would be in big trouble today. Nomizu-san's tuna is so fresh, it's just too much that these people dare to extort him!"

Kawabe Hidematsu patted his shoulder: "Rest assured, we will conduct a thorough investigation and unequivocally guarantee the perpetrators face legal consequences. Henceforth, should any patron experience harassment whilst consuming tuna here, contact law enforcement directly;

we pledge immediate intervention."

As the police escorted the delinquent youths away, the yellow-haired youth continued to struggle: "Why are you arresting me? I just came to demand compensation!"

Kawabe Hidematsu stated coldly: "Whether remuneration is obligatory shall be determined at the precipice. Do you presuppose our ignorance regarding your superior's gastrointestinal distress originating from the consumption of an expired bento, entirely unassociated with Nomizu-san's tuna?"

The surrounding crowd erupted in laughter. Nomizu Masayasu exhaled a profound sigh of relief, bowing respectfully to Kawabe Hidematsu: "Profound gratitude, Kawabe-san. Absent your intervention, I was entirely bereft of recourse today."

"No need to thank me," Kawabe Hidematsu waved his hand and looked at Hiroshi. "Hiroshi-kun, after the broadcast of 'A Bite', the number of tourists in Chiba Prefecture increased by 30%, and the turnover of the seafood market also rose significantly. Governor Koike specially called to praise me, saying that if you hadn't filmed this documentary, Chiba Prefecture wouldn't have such great development."

Hiroshi chuckled: "This represents the culmination of collective exertion. Nomizu-san's persistence in securing fresh tuna, Kawabe-san's implementation of robust security protocols, and the tourists' willingness to engage in commerce here—these constitute the foundational catalysts driving Chiba Prefecture's developmental trajectory."

Misae pulled on Hiroshi's arm, saying excitedly: "Hiroshi-kun, let's go check out the seaside later, okay? I want to see where Nomizu-san goes out to sea. Maybe I can find new inspiration for comics!"

"Alright." Hiroshi nodded and turned to Nomizu Masayasu. "Nomizu-san, when you're done, we'd like to go see the pier with you. Is that okay?"

Nomizu Masayasu immediately agreed: "Of course! I'll have the fishermen get ready, take you to see my fishing boat, and explain fishing techniques to you."

Everyone followed Nomizu Masayasu toward the pier. Sunlight spilled across the sea, glimmering with a golden brilliance.

Sato Rina kept taking pictures with her camera, muttering: "The scenery here is so beautiful, even more beautiful than the scenes in the comics! When I go back, I must draw these into the 'A Bite' manga, to let more people know the beauty of Chiba."

Misae walked beside Hiroshi, waving the drawing manuscript in her hand: "Hiroshi-kun, I'll draw the seaside scenery later too. We might need it when we film the sequel to 'A Bite'!"

Hiroshi looked at Misae's earnest expression, a gentle smile appearing on his mouth: "Okay, we'll go film together then, bringing the stories of more ordinary people to the audience."

The sea breeze blew gently, carrying the salty scent of seawater. Fishing boats passed slowly in the distance, and the laughter of fishermen could be heard, interweaving with everyone's cheerful conversation, painting a warm picture.

Hiroshi knew this was the life he desired—using a lens to chronicle the beauty of ordinary individuals, using narratives to convey the warmth of existence. The companionship of these individuals constituted the most precious component of this beauty.

...

At 10:00 AM on October 16th, within the zenith office of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building, sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the wooden desk and profoundly accentuating the "A Bite of Neon" viewership report situated upon it.

Governor Koike Ryuichi occupied the leather chair. His finger tapped lightly upon the "24.1% Nationwide Viewership" text;

a subtle smile materialized involuntarily upon his lips.

The office door was pushed open gently, and Department Manager Hattori Tadashi walked in holding a stack of documents. Seeing Governor Koike's expression, he couldn't help but smile and say: "Governor Koike, it seems you've already seen the ratings data? I just came back from Kanto TV, met with Nohara Hiroshi personally, and I found that even the young people in our prefectural office are discussing 'A Bite', and even the ladies in the pantry are talking about going to Chiba to eat tuna this weekend."

Koike Ryuichi looked up, handed the report to Hattori Tadashi, his tone full of contentment: "Hattori-kun, look at this data, the highest viewership for a documentary in the last ten years! This young man, Nohara Hiroshi, really hasn't disappointed us. I was worried before that no one would watch documentaries, but now it seems I was overthinking it."

Hattori Tadashi received the report, perused several pages expeditiously, his gaze brimming with admiration: "Not solely is the viewership phenomenal, but public reception is equally stellar. Critics from the Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun uniformly awarded perfect scores. Saeki Akira even lauded it as the 'premier humanistic documentary in Japan over the last decade.' The Chiba Prefectural Government transmitted a dispatch moments ago indicating over five thousand tourists visited Nomizu Masayasu's fish stall yesterday alone, representing a tripling of their standard volume."

"This is the power of good content."

Koike Ryuichi leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled over his stomach. "Young people nowadays are always chasing idol variety shows, forgetting that the stories of ordinary people around them are the most moving. Nohara Hiroshi filmed the lives of fishermen and artisans, letting everyone see the hard work and persistence behind the food, which is more effective than any promotional slogan."

He paused and continued: "Previously, I tasked the Publicity Department with enacting localized cultural promotion initiatives;

a half-year elapsed yielding negligible results. It was inconceivable that Nohara Hiroshi could accomplish this through a solitary documentary—presently, the entirety of Japan is deliberating Chiba's seafood and Gunma's Soba. This constitutes the optimal methodology for cultural exportation."

Hattori Tadashi nodded in agreement: "Your assessment is precise. During my discourse with Nohara Hiroshi yesterday, he articulated his future intention to document the Kyoto traditional sweets shop and the Saitama legacy bakery. The traditional methodologies indigenous to these locales face eminent obsolescence;

utilizing the platform of 'A Bite' to amplify public awareness may serve to attract younger demographics toward apprenticeship and consequential cultural preservation."

"This is an excellent idea!" Koike Ryuichi's eyes lit up, sitting up straighter. "We must fully support him. I'll go speak to the Kyoto Prefectural Government to have them coordinate with the filming;

if the old bakery in Saitama faces difficulties, we can apply to the 'Traditional Culture Protection Fund' to help them improve their equipment. We cannot let such a good project stall due to funding or location issues."

He picked up the phone on the desk and quickly dialed his secretary: "Have the Planning Department come over immediately, I need to discuss the subsequent promotion plan for 'A Bite' with them. In addition, contact the governors of Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures to hold a video conference next week to discuss how to use the popularity of 'A Bite' to develop tourism."

Hanging up the phone, Koike Ryuichi looked at Hattori Tadashi, his tone becoming serious: "Hattori-kun, we can't just look at the short-term popularity. The success of 'A Bite' is not a coincidence, it shows us that the public needs content with warmth and depth. In the future, the Tokyo Metropolitan Government should support this type of project more, such as funding independent documentary directors, and holding 'Local Culture Film Exhibitions', so that more people have the opportunity to tell the stories of ordinary people."

Hattori Tadashi quickly took notes, nodded, and said: "I understand what you mean. The Publicity Department previously wanted to do a 'Tokyo Old Street Visit' project, but we didn't start it because we were worried no one would watch it. Now that we have the successful case of 'A Bite', we can restart this project, hire Nohara Hiroshi as a consultant, learn from his filming techniques, and maybe we can produce another good work."

"That's a good idea."

Koike Ryuichi looked at Hattori Tadashi approvingly. "Nohara Hiroshi is not merely talented but possesses profound accountability. The 'Kasou Taishou' catalyzed substantial neighborly interaction;

'Midnight Diner' evoked an ubiquitous yearning for familial essence. Presently, 'A Bite' has propelled indigenous culture and tourism development. Cultivating such talent is imperative. We must leverage any forthcoming, suitable projects for collaboration."

As they spoke, the secretary led the head of the Planning Department inside.

Koike Ryuichi picked up the ratings report and said to everyone: "I asked everyone here today to discuss the subsequent promotion plan for 'A Bite'. First, we need to broadcast 'A Bite' in primary and secondary schools nationwide, using it as local culture educational material, so children can understand the hard work of fishermen and artisans, and cherish food;

second, collaborate with the Tourism Bureau to launch an 'A Bite Journey' route, from the Chiba seafood market to the Gunma Soba old street, and then to the Kyoto Wagashi shops, to attract more tourists;

finally, translate 'A Bite' into English, Chinese, and Korean, and send it to international documentary festivals, so people in more countries can understand Japan's food culture and humanistic spirit."

The head of the Planning Department nodded repeatedly: "Governor, we will start making the plan immediately. However, participating in international exhibitions might require some funding, and there are copyright issues regarding broadcasting in primary and secondary schools. We need to discuss these with Tokyo Station and Nohara Hiroshi."

"The expenditure is inconsequential."

Koike Ryuichi asserted decisively. "Allocate resources from the Cultural Promotion Fund;

the execution must be flawless. Hattori-kun will finalize the copyright logistics with Nohara Hiroshi. I possess absolute confidence in his compliance—his foundational motive concerning content creation prioritizes the dissemination of warmth and positive resonance over commercial gain."

Hattori Tadashi immediately responded: "I will go to Tokyo Station this afternoon to find Nohara Hiroshi and discuss the copyright and exhibition matters with him."

The discussion in the office became increasingly animated, with everyone's face filled with dedication.

Koike Ryuichi stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked at the endless stream of traffic below, a surge of emotion filling his heart. He remembered a few years ago when Tokyo's local culture was gradually being overwhelmed by foreign influences, and young people were becoming less and less familiar with traditional crafts. He had worried about this for a long time.

But now, because of a documentary, all this was slowly changing.

"Hattori-kun," Koike Ryuichi turned to Hattori Tadashi and said, "When this matter is finished, we will go meet Nohara Hiroshi and properly thank him. Not only has he made a good documentary, but he has also pointed out the direction for Japan's cultural inheritance and development. Such a young person is the future of Japan."

Hattori Tadashi nodded, his eyes full of agreement: "You're right. Although Nohara Hiroshi is young, he understands the significance of content better than many veteran directors. He uses his camera to record the stories of ordinary people, and uses stories to convey the warmth of life. This is true cultural communication. We must support creators like this more in the future, so Japan's culture becomes increasingly vibrant."

Sunlight filtered through the window, bathing the two men and illuminating the viewership report situated atop the desk.

The number 24.1% seemed to shine, representing not only the success of a documentary, but also a warm power—this power was slowly changing Japan, allowing more people to see the beauty and preciousness of ordinary life.

(Chapter Ends)