I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 35: Number One!
When Monday morning light, like a stern monarch, knocked open the sleepy eyelids of the huge city of Tokyo with its cold and fair scepter, last night's ceremony dedicated to darkness seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

The roar of the subway, the footsteps of pedestrians, the monotonous sound of the coffee machine in the office building, everything returned to its original order.

However, some things, once planted, will grow like the most stubborn vines, wildly in the invisible depths of the soil.

In Suzuki's classroom, everyone was present, yet it seemed as if no one was there.

They sat in their seats, their bodies in working postures, but their souls seemed to be suspended in mid-air, waiting for the last feather to decide whether to fly or fall.

The door was pushed open at this time.

Hashijitachi walked in, still holding the thin report in his hand, which seemed to carry the fate of the entire classroom.

But today, his face no longer had the ecstasy and madness of the past few days. Instead, there was a kind of dullness that was almost numb, which was unique after being repeatedly washed away by a huge sense of happiness.

He walked to the table and put the paper down, his movements as gentle as if he were placing a piece of fragile porcelain.

Everyone gathered around, their eyes fixed on him.

"Late-night animation "Anzhiju", seventh episode rating: 4.22%."

"Ratings – Top-notch! (Note: Record-breaking, number one in the early morning slot.)"

4.22%.

some!
This number, this word, is no longer a drop of boiling oil, nor is it a loud thunder.

It was like a silent holy light that descended from the sky, gently but irrefutably enveloping this small office.

No one cheered, no one shed tears.

Nancun Xing just slowly sat back in his chair and let out a long, long breath. That breath seemed to take away all the depression and anxiety that had accumulated in his life for more than twenty years.

Changgu Lu walked to the window and looked at the pedestrians downstairs who were still as small as ants. For the first time, he felt that he and they might not be in the same dimension anymore.

Beichuan Yao stared at the number infatuatedly, the corners of her mouth curled up unconsciously. That smile was as pure as a child who got the sweetest candy in the world.

The taste of victory is like strong liquor when you first taste it, and like aged wine when you taste it again. But when it is extremely strong, it will return to its original state and turn into a cup of warm tea, silently soaking into your internal organs, making you feel relaxed and happy.

4.22%.

some!
Suzuki Seito looked at the two marks, and all the wrinkles on his old face stretched out, like a chrysanthemum that finally bloomed in the morning sun after the wind and rain.

He knew that from today on, when he walked in the corridor of this TV station again, the glances that were once cast at him with sympathy and contempt would turn into awe and admiration.

In this world where ratings are everything, 4.22% is his scepter and No. is his crown.

The one who gave him all this was the young man who was sitting quietly in the corner, as if oblivious to all the glory and noise in the outside world.

……

At the same time, in Jimbocho, known as the heart of neon comics, a storm of paper and ink is quietly brewing in Shueisha's gray fortress-like building.

The editorial office of "Weekly Shonen Jump" is the place in all of Neon that can best touch the dreams and passion of young people. The air is always filled with a unique aroma that is a mixture of the anxiety before the deadline, the ecstasy of discovering a genius, and endless cans of coffee.

"Did you watch that last night?" a young editor started the conversation.

"My wife watched it last night. It's called 'Contradiction'. She said she's terrified every time she receives a call from a friend."

"That's nothing. I heard from colleagues in other departments that taxi drivers throughout Tokyo are now reluctant to accept orders to remote areas at night, for fear of encountering 'baikao'!"

"That 'Yamishibai' is simply addictive! I heard that its planning and original concept were drawn by Nohara-sensei, the artist who drew 'Yu Yu Hakusho' in our magazine!" All eyes turned to the man sitting in the corner, carefully flipping through a stack of brand-new drawings.

Mr. Tian Suo.

At this moment, Tansuo felt that he was not sitting on a chair, but sitting on the clouds.

He enjoyed the mixed envy and jealous looks from his colleagues and felt that he had never been so brilliant in his entire career.

He put down the sketch in his hand, his face filled with the deep emotion that only someone who has experienced this can have. "It's more than just poisonous, it's simply a miracle. However, compared to 'Anzhiju', what I admire more is Mr. Nohara's manuscript."

He spread the stack of drawings out on the table as if displaying sacred objects.

"Look, this is the opening of the Dark Martial Arts Tournament. This storyboard, this control of pacing, and these new characters, the Toguro brothers... that overwhelming, despairing power, is brought to life on the page with just a few strokes. Can you believe it? This... this was all 'drawn' by Mr. Nohara, working under the hellish rush of a TV station!"

The editors gathered around and gasped.

They are all top experts in the industry, and they can understand the terrifying talent and skill contained in this drawing.

It doesn't look like a rushed work at all. Every line and every dot seems to have been refined through thousands of times. It is precise, sophisticated, and full of well-thought-out genius ingenuity.

"Is this guy... really a human?" someone murmured to himself.

At this moment, the door of the editorial office was pushed open, and a middle-aged man wearing a well-tailored suit, with meticulously combed hair but an unusually pale face, walked in.

He is the editor-in-chief of their group.

The noisy office suddenly became quiet.

The editor-in-chief's eyes swept over everyone and finally landed on the spread-out draft. He didn't say anything, but just walked over and picked up the draft.

"Editor-in-chief, you..." Masato Tadokoro was a little nervous.

"I read it last night, too," the editor said slowly, his voice barely audible, as if someone had just emerged from a nightmare. "That story called 'Contradiction' is quite interesting."

He raised his head and looked at everyone. His eyes, always sharp as an eagle, now held a hint of fear. "You guys are saying, is this 'Anzhiju' the work of Mr. Nohara?"

"Yes... yes!" Tansuo answered quickly.

A flash of shock crossed the editor-in-chief's face, more intense than that of all the editors combined.

He lowered his head and looked at the drawing of "Yu Yu Hakusho" in his hand again. His eyes were as if he was looking at a national treasure that could change history.

He was silent for a long time before he gave the order in a resolute tone that left no room for argument and belonged to a decision maker.

"Tashiro."

"exist!"

"Starting from the next issue, add a line of words for me on the serialization header of Yu Yu Hakusho."

The editor paused and said word by word:

"——The latest masterpiece from the super popular late-night animation "Anshijiu" written and planned by the talented manga artist Hiroshi Nohara!"

"Mr. Miyamoto's departure has caused many people to doubt the future of our magazine."

The editor-in-chief's gaze swept across the faces of each editor, his voice resonant and powerful: "Now, we must use this method to tell all our readers and all our opponents—we have lost an evergreen tree, but we have gained a vaster forest!"

(End of this chapter)