novelraw Chapter 94: Anti-Nohara Hiroshi Alliance! Angry Recruiters!
Chapter 94: Anti-Nohara Hiroshi Alliance! Angry Recruiters!
Nohara Hiroshi didn't wish to be harassed.
However, in this world, many matters, will absolutely not abruptly cease exactly because of your not wishing.
...
Osaka, Kansai TV (KTV) Headquarters Building, Production Bureau.
"Smack!"
A crisp sound appeared.
The black receiver like an executed criminal, was heavily smashed onto the telephone set, that massive physical force causing the entire telephone to jump backwards in panic.
Waya Ichiro, this Production Bureau Deputy Bureau Chief always famous for his vigorous and resolute actions inside the Osaka television circles, at this moment was deadly staring at that telephone having already been hung up, upon his face at this moment only remaining an iron-green color.
No one had dared to hang up his phone call yet.
The originally still relatively relaxed air inside the office, at this moment instantly solidified into ice.Several subordinates holding coffee, preparing to come over to report work, their footsteps uniformly halted in place, one by one like puppets having binding spells cast upon them, not even daring to breathe loudly.
"Bastard... that brat from TV Tokyo..."
Waya Ichiro squeezed these few words out from between his teeth, that voice, resembling blowing over from the cold winds of Siberia, carrying an icy killing intent.
He couldn't figure it out.
He truly couldn't figure it out.
Him Waya Ichiro, having rolled and crawled in the Osaka television circles for twenty years, from a greenhorn kid carrying a camera, step by step climbing to his position today sufficient to make countless juniors look up to, when has he ever suffered this bird anger (unjust anger)?
Him lowering his status, personally making a phone call to a Level 4 Director several years younger than his own son, this in itself, exactly is already a heaven-sized face.
He even before the phone call connected, repeatedly rehearsed countless times inside his mind.
The opening statement must be intimate, cannot hold the airs of a major station; next, casually, revealing their Kansai TV's strong interest towards this 'Urban Legends' theme, as well as the top-tier resources far exceeding TV Tokyo they are willing to invest for this; then, utilizing the tone of an experienced person anew, to advise that young man on the factional struggles and suppressions inevitably to be encountered inside TV Tokyo...
Finally, tossing out that olive branch sufficient to cause any young man wandering in Tokyo, to be utterly unable to refuse anew—— the position of Kansai TV's horror category Chief Producer, as well as a standalone luxury mansion possessing a courtyard, located in the city center of Osaka!
He even had all the details of the contract completely thought out.
But he absolutely didn't anticipate, that set of his perfect conversational skills sufficient to persuade a stubborn rock, hadn't even finished speaking the opening statement, then was forcefully cut off by the opposite party, utilizing a method almost bordering on humiliation.
This hung up phone right now was still appearing icy cold busy signals.
"Beep... beep... beep..."
Like an invisible slap, ruthlessly slapping onto his face, a burning pain.
"Deputy Bureau Chief..." A Section Chief possessing slightly larger courage, cautiously leaned forward, tentatively asking: "That... the TV Tokyo side there, is still unwilling to relent?"
"Relent?"
Waya Ichiro violently turned his head, that pair of bloodshot eyes deadly staring at him, like an enraged male lion: "That brat named Nohara Hiroshi, he didn't even let me finish speaking before hanging up the phone! He fundamentally didn't put our Kansai TV in his eyes at all!"
This spiel seemingly instantly kicked up a thousand layers of waves inside the small office.
"Nani (What)?!"
"Also too arrogant right? A Level 4 Director who just debuted, actually dares to hang up your phone?"
"Exactly! Truly thinking filming a program with 20% viewership rating, then one can fly into the sky? The people coming out from TV Tokyo, sure enough are all of the exact same virtue, nostrils facing the sky, looking down upon us local stations!"
Curses, reprimands, could be said to be rising one after another continuously.
But these voices, not only failed to cause Waya Ichiro's mood to improve in the slightest, instead causing him to be even more irritable.
He of course knew, this wasn't merely the personal behavior of that young man.
Behind this, is TV Tokyo, is that massive entity occupying the apex of the Neon television circles for several decades, a bare-naked, completely arrogant silent demonstration towards local powerful factions like them.
"All shut up for me!"
He roared once, ruthlessly sweeping a stack of documents on the desk onto the floor, those snow-white papers like butterflies swept by a fierce wind, messily scattering all over the floor.
"Speaking sarcastic remarks here holds what use?! The task the Station Chief gave me, is to dig that brat, together with that gold mine named 'Urban Legends' inside his brain, entirely digging to our Osaka! Right now, they won't even let us touch the shovel! You guys tell me, what should be done?!"
Inside the office once again sunk into a patch of deathly silence.
Everyone looked at each other in blank dismay, opened their mouths, yet couldn't speak a single word.
That's right, what should be done?
He is right now the hottest sweet pastry of the entire Neon, standing behind him is exactly the massive Buddha that is TV Tokyo.
These local stations of theirs, even if the conditions they proposed are any more enticing, in front of absolute platform dominance, also appeared so pale and powerless.
For a long while, Waya Ichiro finally slowly, longly, let out a breath of air, inside that breath, carrying a kind of fighting like a cornered beast exhaustion and unwillingness.
He picked up anew that telephone causing him to suffer exhaustive humiliation, utilizing a physical force almost bordering on self-abuse, once again dialed that number he was entirely familiar with long ago.
This time he even couldn't be bothered to think of an opening statement.
He only wanted to know, that young man, ultimately could be arrogant to what degree.
However, this time, what transmitted from the other end of the phone, was no longer that icy cold busy signal, but rather an even more icy cold, emotionless electronic female voice.
"The number you dialed cannot be connected..." (Just consider it like this, I also don't know how it is in Neon over there)
Waya Ichiro's body violently stiffened.
He subconsciously raised his wrist, casting a glance at that gold Rolex watch possessing considerable value.
Afternoon two fifteen.
Hasn't arrived at the time to finish work right yet.
That brat, he... he actually directly pulled the telephone cord?!
"Ah——!"
A roar full of humiliation and anger, transmitted out from this office, startling those several crows currently resting on the electric wires outside the window, all flapping their wings, fleeing in panic.
...
In fact, currently experiencing identical encounters as Waya Ichiro at this moment, was far more than him alone.
Nagoya, Chukyo TV.
Fukuoka, Kyushu Broadcasting.
Sapporo, Hokkaido Cultural Broadcasting...
Almost all local powerful factions holding a rank in the Neon television circles, all on this afternoon, utilizing a mindset almost bordering on humility, dialed that identical number.
Then without exception, all tasted that portion of being mercilessly hung up upon, closed door full of a Tokyo flavor.
This is already no longer a simple refusal.
This is a declaration.
A clear and also arrogant declaration, issued to the entire industry by that young man named Nohara Hiroshi, through the simplest and crudest method——
I am not going anywhere.
You guys also don't come bother me anymore.
...
Evening seven o'clock, Suginami Ward, downstairs of the apartment Nohara Hiroshi lived at.
The evening winds of summer day carrying somewhat of dryness and heat, blowing against those several zelkova trees appearing somewhat listless by the roadside.
Several black luxury sedans bearing license plates of different regions, like a school of sharks having smelled the scent of blood, silently parked amidst this cluster of apartment buildings, appearing entirely out of place with those ordinary cars full of daily life aura surrounding.
The car doors opened.
Several major figures capable of causing a side of the television circles to tremble thrice by stomping a foot in their respective territories ordinarily, at this moment yet exactly like the most ordinary salesmen, carrying somewhat of restlessness, and a kind of determination bound to win, gathered at the entrance of the apartment.
Taking the lead, was exactly that Waya Ichiro, the Production Bureau Deputy Bureau Chief of Kansai TV, who after throwing a fit of evil fire in the office, ultimately still decided to personally charge over to Tokyo.
Beside him, stood a middle-aged man wearing a floral shirt, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, appearing possessing somewhat of an elegant scumbag temperament, that is from Nagoya Chukyo TV's Production Department Manager Executive Deputy Manager, Yamadashita Ken.
On the other side, then is a man possessing slightly fat stature, always acting smilingly, appearing like an uncle from next door, deep inside his gaze yet sparkling with shrewd light, Fukuoka Kyushu Broadcasting's Copyright Purchasing Department Manager, Tanaka Shigeru.
"Waya-san, you confirm that brat, exactly lives here?"
Yamadashita Ken pushed the gold-rimmed glasses upon the bridge of his nose, inside his tone carrying somewhat of the shrewdness unique to Nagoya people: "This place, is also too... somewhat shabby right? Doesn't quite match his style upon the television ah."
"Can't be wrong."
Waya Ichiro fished out a pack of Mild Seven (Seven Stars) from his pocket, lighting a cigarette for himself, taking a deep drag, that pungent smoke causing that head of his burned faint by fury and jealousy, to slightly clear up somewhat.
"I spent a massive price, intelligence purchased from the hands of an private detective over here in Tokyo. Address, photos, even the time he goes home every day, what flavor of Ramen he likes to eat, all investigated crystal clear."
As he spoke, inside that pair of bloodshot eyes, flashed past a trace of difficult to perceive ruthless ferocity.
Since peaceful methods don't work, then bring on the martial ones.
He absolutely doesn't believe it, when he slaps a contract sufficient to cause anyone to be unable to refuse, together with a check capable of being filled with any number, right onto the face of that young man, he can still maintain that damn, arrogance belonging to Tokyo people.
"Ayaya, looks like everyone is great minds think alike ah."
Tanaka Shigeru smoothing things over smilingly, that pair of eyes narrowed into a slit, yet was scanning back and forth upon the bodies of the two: "However, let's put the ugly words in front. Today, everyone relies on their own capabilities. Whoever can invite that 'Great God Nohara' back to their own temple, the other two houses, absolutely cannot trip them up from behind."
"Hmph, that's natural."
Right when these three people were each harboring ulterior motives, atmosphere delicate, a Toyota Crown Majesta emitting composed and also tyrannical auras underneath the afterglow of the sunset, resembling a ghost, silently glided out from the corner of the street, ultimately, stably parked onto the exclusive parking space downstairs of the apartment.
The car door opened, a young man wearing a casual suit, tall and straight posture, walked down from the driver's seat.
Exactly their target for tonight—— Nohara Hiroshi.
"He's here!"
The spirits of the three simultaneously jolted once, almost subconsciously tidying up their own collars a bit, upon their faces instantly piling up the most enthusiastic, and also most hypocritical smiles, swiftly welcoming upwards.
"Sensei Nohara! Hello hello! I've been looking forward to meeting you for a long time!"
Waya Ichiro was the first charging up, that iron-green face had already been replaced by a smile full of the forthrightness and friendliness of a Kansai person long ago, he offered his own business card with both hands, that posture, humble like a tiny fan seeing his idol.
"This humble person Waya Ichiro, Kansai TV Production Bureau's, you just calling me Ichiro is enough!"
"Sensei Nohara, glad to meet you glad to meet you! I am Nagoya Chukyo TV's Yamada Ken, your 『Tales of the Unusual』, I am exactly missing no episodes, watched them all! Simply is a divine work! A true divine work ah!"
"Sensei Nohara, meeting for the first time, I am Tanaka Shigeru coming from Fukuoka, this is a tiny bit of regards from our Kyushu, a tiny token of respect, please be sure to accept it!"
Tanaka Shigeru was even more direct, receiving an exquisitely packaged wooden box from the hands of the assistant behind him, forcefully stuffing it into Nohara Hiroshi's embrace without permitting any explanations.
Nohara Hiroshi looking at these three suddenly popping out, enthusiastic to the point of somewhat excessive "fans" before him, upon his face held helplessness.
He merely peacefully swept a glance at those several luxury sedans parked not far away, entirely out of place with the surrounding environment, eye pupils slightly narrowing.
Nohara Hiroshi seemingly guessed something.
He didn't go grab those business cards, even more so didn't go look at that wooden box, merely facing the three people, revealed a just right, polite smile carrying somewhat of detachment.
"Three seniors, whatever is the matter?"
This neither cold nor hot reaction, caused the smiles on the faces of Waya Ichiro the trio, to all instantly stiffen for a moment.
They looked at each other, ultimately, still by Waya Ichiro possessing the thickest skin, cleared his throat, getting straight to the point saying:
"Sensei Nohara, to tell you the truth, us coming this time, is exactly representing our respective television stations, wanting to with you... converse a bit regarding cooperation."
"Our Kansai TV, is willing to establish an independent, 'Nohara Studio' possessing the highest authority for you! Budget, personnel, you casually say the word! We only possess one requirement, which is exactly hoping you can for us, tailor-make a brand new urban legends series, similar to 『Tales of the Unusual』!"
"Our Chukyo TV, is willing to pay three times! No! Five times the salary of TV Tokyo! As long as you are willing to nod your head, tomorrow, you are exactly the horror category企劃 Chief Producer of our Production Bureau!"
"Our Kyushu Broadcasting..."
The three were vying with each other, tossing out those conditions they had already prepared long ago, sufficient to cause any single industry insider to go crazy for it, one by one entirely down.
That posture, like three hungry wolves having seen a peerless treasure, wishing they could immediately exactly swallow this young man before them, skin bones and all completely down.
However Nohara Hiroshi from start to finish merely quietly listened.
Lacking any expression of stance.
Upon that handsome face also lacking the slightest stirring, peaceful like a pool of bottomless deep lake water.
Until all three of them spoke to the point of dry mouths and parched tongues, inside those clear eyes, then finally flashed past a trace of playing meaning.
"The good intentions of the three seniors, this junior appreciates."
He slowly opened his mouth, voice gentle, yet carrying a kind of unquestionable absolute decisiveness: "Only, I personally believe, TV Tokyo, is an extremely outstanding platform. I am over here, living very well, temporarily... possessing no intentions of moving places."
Finished speaking, he facing the three people, once again revealed a polite smile, slightly bowing his body, considered as taking his leave.
Then exacted turned around, walking into that apartment without looking back.
Only leaving Waya Ichiro, Yamada Ken, Tanaka Shigeru the three people, like three statues having been weathered, blankly standing in place, upon those faces one after another, written full of disbelief and astonishment.
He... he exactly like this... left?
They prepared a belly full of coercions and briberies, they prepared countless types of negotiation skills, they even had the location of the celebration banquet exactly all thought out.
But they absolutely didn't anticipate, the opposite party actually lacking even the interest to sit down and converse a bit with them.
That kind of humiliation feeling of being thoroughly ignored, like a basin of ice water, pouring down from head to toe, extinguishing that bit of dryness and heat produced due to coveting inside their hearts, icy cold.
"Bastard... this brat of Tokyo..."
Waya Ichiro deadly clenched his fists tightly, that face still piled full of smiles just now, at this moment had already twisted out of shape long ago, he looked at that icy cold, already closed apartment main door, that gaze, like a wild dog whose entire food was snatched away, only remaining endless deep resentment and madness.
"Too arrogant! Simply is arrogant and condescending!" Yamada Ken was also trembling all over due to anger, he ruthlessly scrunched the business card inside his hand into a ball, tossing it onto the floor, unexpectedly using that pair of leather shoes belonging to him polished completely shiny, ruthlessly crushing it a few times.
"Sigh!" Only Tanaka Shigeru let out a breath of air, inside that breath, carrying a kind of helplessness having recognized reality.
"Forget it."
He shook his head, upon that face always acting smilingly, for the first time surfaced a smear of bitterness: "Looks like, exactly a person is determined, to hang himself to death on that big tree. These local stations of ours, in his eyes, afraid holding not even the qualifications to act as a spare tire."
As he spoke, glancing at those two colleagues still immersed within anger and unwillingness beside him, utilizing a tone almost bordering on self-deprecation, proposed:
"Let's go right, you two. Since we cannot invite the god, then us, also no need to make a fool of ourselves here. I know there's a pretty good Izakaya nearby, how about... going to drink a cup?"
...
Inside the Izakaya, the lighting was dim and yellow, inside the air permeated the burnt aroma of skewers and the mellowness of Sake.
Several cups of spicy Shochu down the belly, that suppressed fury, finally found an outlet to vent.
"Motherfucker! Pissing me off to death!"
That flushed red face of Waya Ichiro appeared somewhat hideous due to the catalysis of alcohol: "That Nohara Hiroshi, what kind of a thing does he count as?! Isn't it merely possessing good luck, stepping on dog shit luck, filming an exactly still passable television drama right?! Relying on what is he this arrogant?! Relying on what to look down upon us?!"
"Exactly!" Yamada Ken drinking to the point of also somewhat getting to his head, he undid the top two buttons of that floral shirt of his, revealing the slightly loose chest underneath, gaze full of gloomy coldness: "The people coming out of TV Tokyo, are all of the exact same virtue! Considering themselves to be infallable, arrogant and condescending! Thinking grasping the best resources, exactly can act as the big boss forever! Dreaming!"
"You two, calm your anger, calm your anger."
Tanaka Shigeru while filling up wine for the two, while smilingly persuading, inside those pair of eyes narrowed into a slit, yet sparkled a trace of difficult to perceive, cunningness exactly like a fox.
"Since exactly a person refuses to grant face, then us also have no need to hang ourselves to death on one tree. TV Tokyo is formidable, but it isn't invincible. Him Nohara Hiroshi is a genius, but he also isn't a god."
He paused, drinking the wine inside his cup clean in one gulp, inside his voice bringing a trace of icy bewitchment:
"I have a proposal."
"Since we cannot invite him over, then us, exactly simply... joining hands, pulling him down, from that altar!"
"Hm?" The movements of Waya Ichiro and Yamada Ken paused simultaneously, all casting their gazes towards him.
"Very simple." The corners of Tanaka Shigeru's mouth, hooked up a smear of icy arc: "Isn't he adept at engaging in 'Urban Legends'? Then us, exactly also engage in it!"
"Our three houses, Kansai, Chukyo, Kyushu, unite together, concentrating all our advantageous resources, all elite producers, all ace screenwriters, also coming to do a program, no! Is three programs, brand new urban legends programs!"
"I exactly refuse to believe it, him Nohara Hiroshi a single person's brain, can surpass our three television stations, the collective wisdom of hundreds of elites!"
"We exactly at the identical time slot, using the identical themes, fiercely fighting a battle with him using real swords and spears! Utilizing viewership ratings, to tell that brat not knowing the immensity of heaven and earth, to tell all audiences of the entire Neon, who, is exactly the true king, inside this domain!"
This spiel was like a spark tossed into boiling oil, instantly igniting that fury already burning fiercely inside the hearts of Waya Ichiro and Yamada Ken long ago!
"Awesome! Let's exactly do it like this!"
Waya Ichiro slapped his thigh, upon that hideous face, surfacing a smear of madness resembling fighting like a cornered beast: "Isn't he broadcasting every week? Then us, exactly starting from next month, also broadcasting every week! He broadcasts one episode, us exactly broadcasting three episodes! Using quantity, must also completely pile him to death alive!"
"Correct!" Inside Yamada Ken's eyes also sparkled gloomy cold light: "Furthermore, we still have to dig over, all the people under his hands! That one named Hashishita Ichiro, I heard, has already been re-employed by him anew. This kind of guy possessing a betrayal resume, as long as the price we offer is sufficiently high, I exactly refuse to believe it, he wouldn't exactly betray a second time!"
"Also actors inside that production crew of his! That one named Ko Kaoruhana, I investigated it, exactly is a country girl lacking any background. Dispatching someone to go contact a bit, giving her a female lead role for the prime time slot, I exactly refuse to believe it, she wouldn't be tempted!"
Conspiracies and calculations under the catalysis of alcohol, exactly like wildly growing vines, rapidly entwined this tiny private room.
These three major figures commanding the winds and clouds upon their respective territories ordinarily, after experiencing a common failure and humiliation, finally, formed a, 'Avenger's Alliance' full of black humor...
They raised their wine cups, heavily clinking together, that crisp sound, like a death knell full of killing intent, prematurely played for that young man far away in Tokyo.
"To victory!"
"Cheers!"