Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

The following afternoon.

In the upscale apartment in Kitahara Iwa.

Kitahara Iwao had just finished writing about spirals and was standing on the terrace looking at the view.

Just then, the private phone on the coffee table suddenly rang.

Not many people know this number; besides Sachiko Kamachi, Akina Nakamori, Editor-in-Chief Sato, only Hiroshi Kume remains.

"Feed".

"Good evening, Kitahara-sensei."

"I am Kume."

Kume Hiroshi's signature teasing voice came through the receiver.

Even when he wasn't in the studio, his tone still sounded like he was reporting the front-page news.

"Kume-san, calling so late, do you have some exclusive scoop?"

Kitahara Iwa responded easily.

"Hahaha, a scoop? All the exclusive scoops these days are fabricated by you!"

Kume Hiroshi burst into laughter, then exclaimed with a hint of disbelief, "Kitahara-sensei, you're such a troublemaker!"

"Just ten minutes ago, a representative from the Dairy Industry Association called our senior management at TV Asahi directly, requesting that I dedicate a special episode to tonight's 'News Station' to explain the safety of milk."

"In all my years of journalism, I've reported on political scandals and financial crises, but this is the first time I've seen a novel that can directly intervene in the real economy and even make those arrogant giants tremble with fear."

At this point, Hiroshi Kume paused for a moment, then gave it a very high evaluation: "This is no longer literature, Kitahara-sensei. This is magical realism."

"You flatter me, Kume-san."

Kitahara Iwa replied, then looked at the city in the distance and continued, "Moreover, I've already reached an agreement with the dairy company."

"Oh?"

"As a condition for my explanation to them, they agreed to release a co-branded 'Confession Special Strawberry Milk' in a while. My book title will be printed on the packaging."

"Hahahahaha!"

Hearing Kitahara Iwao's words, Kume Hiroshi on the other end of the phone laughed so hard he almost choked: "Planting Milk Guy into a poisoned novel?"

"Teacher Kitahara, this is absolutely the biggest dark comedy of the Heisei era!"

"In that case, I will bring this up subtly in tonight's program."

"However, there is also bad news."

At this moment, Kume Hiroshi changed the subject, his voice suddenly lowered, no longer in a broadcaster's tone, but with a teasing and concerned tone between old friends: "Those 'educational mothers' from the PTA (Parent-Teacher Association) are really getting desperate this time."

"It's said that they've already listed you as 'Heisei's number one public enemy,' and are sharpening their knives, ready to devour you alive."

"If you really can't hold on, remember to send Shincho-sha out to take the hits, don't be stupid and try to take the brunt of it yourself."

Hearing Kume Hiroshi's words, which carried a hint of schadenfreude yet were undeniably a serious warning, Kitahara Iwa couldn't help but laugh, replying in a relaxed tone, "I know. Let them come then. Do you think I, a novelist, am afraid of them?"

After a pause, Kitahara Iwao added with a smile, "Kume-san, thanks. To repay you for the inside information, I'll treat you to yakiniku (grilled meat) next time we meet. Let's go to Jojo-en; I guarantee you'll be stuffed."

"Hahaha! Xuxuyuan? Then I'll have to order the most expensive premium beef brisket!"

Kume Hiroshi laughed loudly and hung up the phone.

The next morning.

Shincho Publishing House, Editor's Office.

Sato sat behind his desk, the scene before him a mixture of hell and heaven.

To his left was a mountain of complaint letters, some of which even contained hard razor blades.

To his right was a red sales report that was rising sharply and almost broke through the border of the chart.

Sato looked at the two piles of things, his face contorted with excitement, perfectly embodying the phrase "pain and pleasure at the same time."

"This is insane... utterly insane..."

As he muttered to himself, Sato picked up a copy of the Asahi Shimbun morning paper that had just been delivered, his hands trembling.

Today's front page headline isn't about the Liberal Democratic Party's political scandals, nor is it about stock market analysis; it's a dark headline—

[The worst storyteller of the Heisei era: Kitahara Iwao]

Sato took a deep breath and then read the introduction:

"Kitahara Iwao used a scalpel-like, calm, and cruel touch to dissect the abscesses that had grown in the postwar Japanese education system."

"He tore away the clergy's disguise and mocked the incompetence of juvenile law."

"He terrified parents and drove the PTA crazy."

"He is the devil because he tore away the facade of tenderness; but he is also the only one who is clear-headed because he forces us to look directly into the abyss."

at the same time.

Odaiba, Tokyo, Fuji Television.

The king of midday wide show programs – “Live from the Front! The Monsters of the Heisei Era”.

The studio lights were a stark white, and the background music was a heart-pounding, rapid drumbeat.

On the giant screen background, a black-and-white photograph of Kitahara Iwa was prominently displayed, accompanied by huge, vividly red captions that looked as if they were bleeding:

[Urgent Special! The Demon Poisoning Youth—Kitahara Iwa!]

[A killer formula for bestsellers: Confessions!]

If the Asahi Shimbun represents the cold, introspective thinking of intellectuals, then this Fuji TV program represents the most primal and fervent moral judgment from the general public.

In the studio, conservative media figures, well-known education commentators, and PTA representatives formed an impenetrable "anti-Kitahara alliance."

A chilling, righteous murderous aura permeated the air.

"This is a book that incites murder! This isn't literature; it's a crime guide for minors!"

Seated in the center of the guest seating area is the current president of the PTA (Parent-Teacher Association), a middle-aged woman dressed in a dark blue conservative suit with her hair neatly combed.

At this moment, she completely lost her usual composure, her eyes were bloodshot, the veins on her neck were bulging, and she was tightly clutching the black book "Confession" in her hand.

The book was worn out from being read so many times; the pages were curled at the edges, and it was covered with countless yellow sticky notes. Every page was marked with striking red pen marks, as if it were a piece of evidence being presented in court.

"Please look here! Page 15! And page 138!"

The president, overcome with emotion, opened the book, pointed to the paragraphs circled in red, and tearfully denounced the author to the camera, his fingers trembling violently: "Look at these descriptions! How calm, how specific!"

"Injecting HIV-infected blood into milk, making time bombs using knowledge from chemistry class..."

"What is Kitahara Iwao trying to do? Is he teaching our children how to kill?!"

At the height of her emotions, she slammed her book on the table with a loud bang, then shouted, "If such copycat crimes really happen in schools in the future, if children really hurt teachers or classmates because of it..."

"Then Kitahara Iwa is the murderer! The one directly responsible! His hands are stained with children's blood!"

The studio was deathly silent, except for the chairman's heavy breathing.

Immediately afterward, a well-known education commentator sitting next to him chimed in, saying in a judgmental tone, "The chairman is absolutely right. But that's not the worst part."

"The most terrifying thing is that Kitahara Iwao instilled an 'extremely distorted value system' in the book—that as long as you suffer injustice, you can take revenge by any means necessary."

The critic picked up a pointer and banged it against the display board about strawberry milk, adding with great distress:

"The current 'milk oversupply incident' is the best proof! Children are starting to doubt the food, doubt their teachers, and doubt each other! Trust is collapsing!"

"Kitahara Iwao is the culprit who destroyed the dietary structure and mental health of Japanese youth!"

"What he fed the children wasn't words, but deadly poison! Arsenic coated in sugar! This is the greatest spiritual drug of the Heisei era!"

Finally, the critic stood up, faced the camera, and delivered a concluding statement that sent chills down the spines of the entire Japanese publishing industry: "Here, on behalf of all radical educational groups in Japan, I solemnly declare: We have sent a letter of protest to Shincho-sha and jointly petitioned the Ministry of Education!"

"We demand the immediate recall of all copies of 'Confessions' on the market, and their public, centralized incineration!"

"Even if it means using harsh measures, we must uproot this evil flower! We must purify the Japanese literary world!!"