novelraw Chapter 25: Viewership Rating 2.98%
Chapter 25: Viewership Rating 2.98%
Wednesday early morning, Suzuki Section.
When Hashishita Ichiro rushed into the office like a gust of wind holding the third day's viewership rating report, his face carried an almost frantic ecstasy.
He didn't even have time to speak; he just heavily slapped that report onto the table!
The crowd gathered around.
"Late-night animation 'Yamishibai', episode three viewership rating: 2.98%!"
"Viewership rating level - Excellent!"
Boom!
The entire office was like a detonated powder keg, instantly boiling over!
2.98%!
From 1.77% to 2.98%! Overnight, it soared by 1.21 percentage points!This was a miracle!
A viewership miracle that was almost impossible to occur in the late-night slot without any promotional resources tilted in its favor!
"Ohhhhhh—!"
Minamura Hoshi and Haseji Kakeru hugged together like two madmen, shouting and jumping.
Kitagawa Yao wept tears of joy; her tears were like pearls from a broken string, unable to be stopped no matter what.
Looking at that number, Suzuki Kiyoto felt his heart was about to jump out of his chest cavity. He trembled all over from excitement, turned around, and firmly grabbed Nohara Hiroshi's shoulders, his old face streaked with tears.
"Nohara-kun... we... we did it! We really did it!"
A heartfelt, relaxed smile finally appeared on Nohara Hiroshi's face as well.
He knew, the snowball had already started rolling.
For the late-night and early-morning slots, generally speaking, reaching 2% was considered passing; it could be said that the program was a success.
But he never expected the resulting given to him today would actually be a 2.98% viewership rating!
It could practically be said to be explosively popular!
Indeed.
For those prime-time slots around 8:00 PM, a viewership rating of 10% was considered passing. It could even be said that if it was lower than 10%, it was equivalent to failure.
But Nohara Hiroshi was clear.
His was not a prime-time program.
But a program in the most miserable, most miserable, most miserable early-morning slot!
Most programs were actually just casually tossed on to let young directors test the waters and to increase their seniority.
They were fundamentally of no consequence.
Therefore, for most programs in this slot, a viewership rating reaching 2.5% was already very good.
But now, their viewership rating had actually reached 2.98%. It was just 0.02% away from a 3% viewership rating.
It even rivaled the viewership rating requirements for the late-night slot around 11:00 PM.
This was sufficient to demonstrate.
Their 'Yamishibai' was truly popular!
...
In Iwata Masao's office, the air seemed to have congealed into chunks of ice-cold lead.
The room, which had been filled with flattery and a cheerful atmosphere yesterday, was so dead silent at this moment that one could hear the monotonous and oppressive air blowing sound from the central air conditioning vent.
The few lackeys who were usually best at bootlicking all had their heads lowered at this moment, shrinking their necks like a flock of quails shivering in the cold wind, not even daring to breathe loudly.
Their gazes all subconsciously avoided the face behind the desk that was so gloomy it seemed water could drip from it.
Iwata Masao stared fixedly at the viewership rating report just printed out by his confidant on the computer screen. The number "2.98%" on it was like a red-hot branding iron, fiercely branding itself into his pupils, burning his eye sockets with pain.
How could it be possible?
How could this be possible?!
A piece of garbage slideshow with an investment of less than one hundred thousand yen per episode, in a death slot regarded as a trash can by everyone, achieved a viewership rating that even he dreamed of?
This defied logic, this was unscientific; this was simply openly challenging all his knowledge and experience from being steeped in the television industry for over a decade!
"Smash!"
He finally couldn't hold back anymore. He grabbed the crystal ashtray on the desk and fiercely smashed it onto the floor covered by an expensive Persian carpet, producing a muffled crash.
The lackeys trembled all over from fright, burying their heads even lower.
"Have you all gone mute?" Iwata Masao's voice seemed to squeeze out from between his teeth, carrying an unrestrainable violence: "Weren't you speaking so logically yesterday? Saying they were garbage, a joke, a disgrace to the television station! What about now? This disgrace has slapped all your faces swollen!"
No one dared to answer.
Because their faces indeed hurt burningly.
Right at this moment, the internal hotline phone on the desk rang shrilly.
"Ring, ring, ring—"
That ringtone, at this time and moment, seemed like a death knell.
Iwata Masao's body obviously stiffened. He looked at that phone continuously flashing a red light, a trace of fear flashing through his eyes.
But he knew he had to answer this phone call.
He took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the violent rage and panic in his heart, picked up the receiver, and his voice instantly became humble and obedient.
"Deputy Bureau Chief Takada, it's me, Masao."
"Come to my office for a trip, right now."
The voice on the other end of the phone was ice-cold, brief, and carried no trace of emotion. After speaking, he hung up directly.
Iwata Masao gripped the receiver, listening to the "beep, beep" busy tone coming from inside, a layer of fine cold sweat seeping out on his forehead.
He slowly put down the phone, tidied up his somewhat messy tie, stood up, and walked out of the office without saying a word. His departing figure carried a stiffness and heaviness akin to heading to the execution ground.
Only when the office door was gently closed did that suffocating pressure slightly lessen.
Only then did the few lackeys dare to lift their heads, exchanging frightened gazes with each other.
"It's over... the Section Chief this time, I'm afraid, will be scolded severely by the Deputy Bureau Chief." The first to speak was that confidant named Yasuhito. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, his voice still carrying a trace of unbelievable trembling.
"Who says it ain't so..." Another younger assistant lowered his voice, as if afraid of being heard by someone: "That 2.98% viewership rating, it's simply like cheating! When I saw it the very first thing last night, I even thought an intern in the Statistics Section put the decimal point in the wrong place! How is this possible? That's 12:20 AM after all!"
"Statistical error? Stop joking." A more mature-looking planner wearing glasses shook his head and smiled bitterly: "This is TV Tokyo, not some third-rate local small station. Our viewership rating statistics system is the absolute best in all of Japan, accurate to two decimal places, and hasn't made an error in twenty years. Numbers don't lie."
His words silenced everyone.
Yes, numbers don't lie, what lied was their own arrogance and prejudice.
"To tell the truth..." Yasuhito hesitated for a moment, but still couldn't help speaking up: "I... last night, I secretly took a glance at that third episode of 'Yamishibai'... the one called 'Family Precept'."
The moment these words came out, everyone's gazes focused onto him.
"How was it?" Someone couldn't help but press to ask.
Yasuhito swallowed hard, a trace of lingering fear appearing on his face: "Fuck... don't mention it, I watched it and couldn't sleep well all night. Just that atmosphere, that final glance... when I close my eyes now, I feel like there's a ghastly pale smiley face staring at me. Although the production is a bit rough, but... but that thing is really fucking scary."
His words caused a chorus of gasps to ring out in the office.
They were all industry insiders and were very clear on what a work that could make even peers feel "scary" meant.
"It seems... that old geezer Suzuki has dug up a treasure this time." Someone muttered to himself.
A subtle atmosphere began to quietly spread in the Iwata Section. It was an emotion mixed with jealousy, unwillingness, curiosity, and even a trace... of awe.
They made a decision. Tonight, no matter what, they would personally take a look at what kind of devil this 'Yamishibai' that had created a miracle actually was.