Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

At this moment, Editor-in-Chief Sato stubbed out his cigarette and stared at the first draft poster on the whiteboard in the conference room with a gloomy look in his eyes.

This was a plan that Tanaka, the head of the publicity department, rushed to come up with overnight.

The poster's design perfectly aligns with current mainstream aesthetics: the background is a yellowed photo of an empty classroom with a nostalgic filter, with the setting sun shining through the windows onto the desks, creating a warm yet slightly melancholic atmosphere.

At the very center of the poster, a striking slogan is printed in rounded font:

"Deeply moving! A female teacher who lost her beloved daughter used her life to awaken a lost teenager—the annual educational masterpiece, 'Confession'."

"Editor-in-Chief Sato, this is our current plan."

Section Chief Tanaka wiped the sweat from his brow and pointed to the poster, explaining, "After all, in today's social climate... people still prefer the kind of passionate and touching stories like 'Kinpachi-sensei'."

"Although the content of this book is a bit... well, a bit extreme, we think it's safer to package it as an 'educational book about love'."

"This way, the Parent-Teacher Association won't have too much of an objection, and it can also attract housewives..."

As Section Chief Tanaka finished speaking, a chorus of agreement rang out in the conference room.

We're all seasoned veterans in the workplace.

When faced with a book that seems dangerous no matter how you look at it, the safest approach is to disguise it as a docile sheep, even if it is actually a wolf.

"Deeply moving?"

The next second, Sato picked up his black coffee and walked to the whiteboard.

"To awaken a lost youth with one's life?"

As Sato read the slogan aloud, he suddenly let out a cold laugh.

Snapped! ! !

Sato suddenly raised his hand and smashed the black coffee cup and all at once onto the cozy poster!

Brown liquid splattered everywhere, instantly staining the yellowed classroom photo black, turning the once warm sunset into a dirty stain.

"Are your brains filled with mush?!"

Sato's roar echoed through the conference room, sending a shiver down everyone's spine.

Section Chief Tanaka, in particular, turned deathly pale, his legs buckled, and he almost sat back down in his chair.

"Fraud! This is outright commercial fraud!"

Sato pointed at the destroyed poster, veins bulging on his neck, and roared, "Readers bought it because it was deeply moving, because of Kinpachi-sensei, and what did they find when they opened the first chapter?"

"It's 'I added HIV-positive blood to the milk'!"

"It's 'Go to hell!'"

"It's pure and simple malice!"

"What do you want? Do you want the Shincho Club's sign to be torn down by angry parents? Do you want us to be inundated with complaint calls?!"

"But...but the editor-in-chief..."

Section Chief Tanaka stammered in his defense, "If we don't package it like this, this kind of dark subject matter... will be hard to pass censorship, and bookstores won't dare to stock it..."

"Idiots! If it's a bomb, why did you have to package it as fireworks?!"

Sato ripped the wet poster off, crumpled it into a ball, and slammed it into the trash can in the corner.

Then he turned around, picked up a thick black marker, and started scribbling wildly on the whiteboard.

The harsh scraping sound echoed in the deathly silent conference room.

Sato's hands moved incredibly fast, and in no time he had painted a huge, oppressive black square on the whiteboard.

There are no patterns, no fancy designs, only breathtaking pure black.

"Listen, start all over again."

Sato threw down his marker, his gaze sweeping over everyone present as he roared:

"The cover design should not include any illustrations or any sentimental hints."

"Just pure black. So black it'll suck your soul in."

"The book title is in the palest black font, like a funeral portrait or a threatening letter."

He picked up a red marker again and wrote a shocking line of text on the black square:

[Front Cover] Warning: This book is not for those with heart conditions, minors, or hypocritical moralists. It contains an extremely deadly poison.

After finishing the front cover, Sato flicked his wrist and, in the position representing the back cover, fiercely wrote the thickest, most frenzied line of large characters:

[Back band] The latest masterpiece from horror master Iwao Kitahara!

After writing these few lines, Sato turned around and scanned the entire room with his gaze.

"This is our strategy: reverse marketing."

Editor-in-Chief Sato's voice was deep and inflammatory, his eyes burning with a gambler's fervor:

"Look out the window now. It's the first year of the Heisei era, the economy is booming, and everyone needs a stronger stimulus! People are already tired and disgusted by those hypocritical expressions of love and peace."

"In this restless age, the more a sign says 'No Entry,' the more people want to go inside; the more you tell them this book is poisonous, the more they want to taste what this poison is like."

Sato slammed the red marker down on the table with a dull thud, like a hammer striking a final note.

"Do as I say. I'll take responsibility if anything goes wrong."

"I want all of Japan to know that there is a forbidden book that must never be read, and it's about to be released."

With Sato's almost insane declaration, Shinchosha's massive publishing machine sprang into action.

Time flew by, and the day that suffocated all of Japan arrived.

1989 October.

Release date.

Shinchosha leveraged its most powerful distribution channels as a publishing giant, with sales representatives occupying prominent new book recommendation sections in large chain bookstores such as Kinokuniya and Sanseido.

They piled up the copies of "Confessions," which had pure black covers with no patterns and only a pale white title, into oppressive black mountains.

What's even more ingenious is that, at the behest of editor-in-chief Sato, these small black mountains were deliberately placed next to several currently popular, bestselling romance novels with pink covers.

This stark visual contrast is like a grim reaper dressed in mourning clothes, wielding a scythe, suddenly standing among a group of girls in Lolita dresses.

The editor-in-chief's office in the headquarters building of Shinchosha.

Sato stood in front of the huge floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the bustling street below, swirling a glass of white milk in his hand.

This is the drink he specially ordered today.

Watching the crowd enter the bookstore, Editor-in-Chief Sato smirked and muttered to himself, "Come on, are you all thirsty? Then have some milk."

10 o'clock in the morning.

Kinokuniya Bookstore, Shinjuku Main Store.

The first victims were Waseda University students who had just finished their morning classes and were still browsing in the bookstore, as well as a few seasoned mystery fans wearing trench coats and with discerning eyes.

For this group of intellectuals who pride themselves on their unique taste and look down on popular mass-market products, the black square placed in a prominent position is nothing short of a huge provocation.

Especially the red, aggressive warning line on the waistband.

[Warning: This article is not suitable for people with heart conditions, minors, or hypocritical moralists.]

This book contains an extremely deadly poison.

"Highly poisonous? Just another low-level marketing gimmick from the publisher."

A male college student wearing a stand-up collar shirt and with lecture notes tucked under his arm let out a disdainful chuckle.

He studied serious literature in school and has always scorned such sensationalist commercial tactics.

"However... I want to see what kind of poison is in here."

With a critical mindset, he went straight to the new book recommendation area, picked up a sample book from the preview corner, and opened the first page.