Tokyo: Who would still fall in love after being spoiled?

Chapter 66: The greatest pastime for light novel writers is to have dinner and drink together
The rain is falling heavily.

I guess Takeda, who is probably at the voice actor training center or somewhere else at this moment, is really enjoying this weather.

Indoors, I would lie in front of the window in a daze for a while, even forgetting a few sentences I heard in class, and had to find someone else's notes to make up for it.

Outdoors, you might be rotating the transparent umbrella, or your entire body might be rotating along with the umbrella.

As he thought this, the dice on the table were like the umbrella in Takeda's hand, spinning constantly. When they stopped, he could just think of them as raindrops.

Guess the number of points, the winner gets food and the loser drinks.

He drank pear juice and did not participate in the gambling.

Asakura and Kuroki's current record is 7-0... well, 7-1, which is rare.

Kuroki had lost so much that he drank a whole bottle of sake and hadn't even taken a few bites of the food.

Asakura's face hadn't even turned red yet.

If he were also at the gambling table, he would have suspected that the dice plate was tampered with - but this dice plate was even brought by Hei Mu himself.

The pear juice did taste like pears from Tottori Prefecture, but it was far less refreshing and sweet than the pear juice that burst out when he took a bite of the pears he picked from his own mountain.

I wanted to eat the pears from the mountain back home, but his family never sold them, and there was no price for them in the points store. If I wanted to eat them, I could only call my parents and ask them to mail a box to Tokyo.

He didn't dare to fight. If he did, there was a high probability that his mother herself would come to Tokyo, take a bumpy and tiring seven-hour train ride, and fill her large suitcase with all kinds of food she wanted to bring him. It was so heavy that she couldn't even lift it up and put it on the luggage rack.

Last time I called, we talked about sharing the apartment and kitchen utensils. I'm afraid I'll have to bring some extra rice, flour, grain, oil, and other things...

There is still a month left in the summer vacation. After finishing the drawings for the Youth Painting Competition, he will have nothing else to do for the time being, so he will go back then.

"Senior Inoue, are you really not going to play this once?" Asakura looked at him and asked.

Yes, although this person called me "senior" the first time I met him offline, it had been three years since he made his debut at the age of fifteen or sixteen.

I don't know the exact date of his birthday, but it's probably not far from summer, as he just became an adult.

"Don't play."

"Don't drink alcohol, senior. Just drink pear juice. We always have to have some fun at a dinner party." Asakura said, holding up his glass.

Kuroki has lost 2-10. Asakura's luck is really good today. He has no desire to continue playing with Kuroki and is looking for a new opponent.

"What's the point..." He was more interested in the four dishes and one soup on the table that he had bought with points.

The vegetarian dishes included a plate of edamame to go with the wine, and the purple eggplant was cooked quite well; the meat dishes were a pot of beef brisket stewed with tomatoes and a steamed sweetfish.

It is true that the ingredients come from the local area of the island, but the dishes are all cooked in mainland China and are quite authentic, without any "localization transformation".

The soup was miso soup, a dish even mainland Chinese restaurants would prepare for their island patrons...

All the physical goods that can be purchased in the points store are also available for purchase in real life.

He was extremely curious about where the restaurant was located. The price didn't matter to him. As long as it was not far away, he could go there once a week.

"That's right! Inoue is here too! I don't believe that my luck is not as good as Asakura's or yours?" Kuroki hammered the table loudly, and he just said that he was not drunk.

"De, de..." He picked up a piece of tender beef brisket with chopsticks, chewed it, shook the dice, and rushed towards Hei Mu, "You choose."

"I choose big."

Two dice, the number over seven is big, six or below is small.

Pour it into the dice plate, spin it a few times and then stop, three plus three.

"Damn it! It was so close!" Hei Mu beat his chest and stamped his feet.

But guessing the size of the dice is essentially a problem of probability and statistics. It doesn't matter what the number is. There are only two possibilities: 0 and 1. There is no such thing as "almost".

He picked up a piece of meat from the tail of the sweetfish with chopsticks, and drank some wine.

"Guess again."

"big!"

Five o'clock, Kuroki drank. "Guess again."

"Xiao...Xiao, Xiao?"

Blackwood drinks.

"big!!!"

Blackwood drinks.

Kuroki's second bottle of sake was almost empty, and he lost everything.

He competed with Asakura for several rounds, with mixed results.

It seems that Asakura is not lucky, the problem lies entirely with Kuroki himself.

Even when Asakura lost, he only took a sip each time he drank. After all, he only drank one glass, and his expression didn't change much.

Hei Mu was already dizzy and staggering.

"Hey, Inoue! Who made this fish? It tastes really good."

"A Chinese restaurant nearby." He could only hope in his heart that this Chinese restaurant, which he had never seen before, was really near the old residential area.

"I'll have this again next time I come!" Kuroki praised.

"There will be a next time?" He looked at Asakura, who had only tasted the wine and didn't eat much of the food.

"As a light novel writer, I don't have many social interactions, and the few pastimes I have are having dinner and drinking together." Kuroki said casually.

"What does your novelist gathering have to do with me...? Is it at your house? Or the luxury apartment in Meguro?"

"No, no!" Hei Mu must have been drunk, as he couldn't control his voice and kept shouting, "I don't dare get drunk at all. If I shout a few times, someone will come knocking on the door. It's all trouble."

Asakura scooped a small bowl of tomato beef brisket soup, without taking away a few pieces of meat, and listened to them chatting without saying a word.

"If you yell at me, someone might come knocking on the door," he warned Kuroki. After a moment's thought, he added, "It's also possible that the person knocking on the door isn't a human."

"Why do you still tell scary ghost stories?" Hei Mu was stunned.

He shook his head, sobering up a bit, and peeled and ate some edamame, changing the subject. "I haven't asked yet, but how's the animation progress of Asakura-sensei's 'Wrong Love'?"

"The first episode will be aired in December," Asakura said to himself.

"So early?!" Kuroki was surprised. Even with his head full of alcohol, he still had time to calculate the time. "Shouldn't the dubbing have started by now?"

"Almost." Asakura responded ambiguously.

Later, Kuroki asked a series of questions, "Are there any famous voice actors?", "How was the sound audition...", "Are there any major changes to the script?"

Asakura simply brushed off the issue with words like "almost", "no", and "probably not bad".

After that, there was no more topic to talk about, and the rental house finally became a little quiet. I could listen to the sound of rain coming through the window screen for a while and concentrate on eating.

If you calculate the time, from the decision to animate "The Wrong Kind of Love" to the release of the first episode in December, it was probably less than five months.

Preparing scripts, dubbing, storyboards, original drawings...all take time.

Most of the time, multiple threads have to be run simultaneously, and even the voice actors don’t know whether they have any reference storyboards when dubbing.

After dinner, clear the table—everything is piled in the sink and on the kitchen counter.

The three of them gathered around a low table, added three more dice, and played speedboat dice. Again, the black wood had the smallest number.

Next is three-player mahjong.

Games similar to gambling always make people addicted, even he can forget about time while playing.

When Takeda pushed the door open and walked in, he had just put together a deck of all-suit big cards, and shouted "Riichi!" with a momentum that was no less than the Prime Minister's declaration, and threw out some sticks.

The entire dining room was a mess.

(End of this chapter)