Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Chapter 69 Kitahara Iwa, are you defying the authority of the traditional literary world?

Upon hearing Kadokawa Haruki's words, a hint of surprise flashed in Kitahara Iwao's eyes.

In truth, Kitahara Iwa didn't care at all about the actions secretly carried out by those old guys from the Kyoto faction.

After all, in his view, those so-called smear articles were nothing more than the impotent rage of a clown.

Once my copy of "The Scream" is published, all existing doubts will vanish!

Just as Kitahara Iwa was secretly making plans, Kadokawa Haruki suddenly stretched out a hand to him: "Kitahara-kun, come downstairs with me."

"I've already arranged for 300 well-known media outlets from all over Japan to be present in the Flying Hall on the first floor."

All fifty broadcast cameras are now in place.

Haruki Kadokawa raised his eyelids and glanced at the ceiling. Upstairs was the private room where the Naoki Prize judging panel was located.

Then, Haruki Kadokawa smirked, a hint of sarcasm in his eyes, and said, "The Kyoto faction thinks they can ruin 'Confessions' with a few press releases?"

"Then I'll completely drown them out with an absolute national headline."

"Tonight, I'm going to drag all of Japan's attention away from the Naoki Prize and make them only see the news that Kadokawa Pictures has made."

"Let them stay upstairs and award themselves."

These extremely blunt words startled Editor-in-Chief Sato, who was standing nearby, so much so that he broke out in a cold sweat and was completely stunned.

He never imagined that Haruki Kadokawa would go to such lengths.

On the same night the Naoki Prize results were announced, they forcibly arranged for 300 top media outlets and 50 broadcast cameras to steal the spotlight?

How many billions of dollars must have been burned in public relations!

Is Kitahara Iwao's "A Message to Myself" really worth Kadokawa Haruki going to such lengths?

At this moment, Kitahara Iwa first glanced at Editor-in-Chief Sato, then at the shocked or complicated expressions of his colleagues present, and took a deep breath.

Since Haruki Kadokawa has spared no expense to set up a stage for me, I can't back down!

"Sato-san, thank you for your hospitality tonight."

Kitahara Iwa nodded to Editor-in-Chief Sato, then met Kadokawa Haruki's gaze and said, "Let's go, President Kadokawa, don't keep the reporters downstairs waiting."

At this moment, the atmosphere in the Naoki Prize media waiting area on the third floor of the Imperial Hotel was eerily unsettling.

As is customary in previous years, this place should have been packed with reporters from major newspapers, who would have argued fiercely over a good vantage point.

But at this moment, the corridor with its bright red carpet was so empty that only the hum of the central air conditioning unit could be heard.

Several staff members of the Japan Literature Promotion Association, clutching a draft of the list of award winners, stared blankly at the empty folding chairs as if they had seen a ghost.

Just ten minutes earlier, the culture section reporters who had been stationed here, determined to witness the pinnacle of popular literature, were politely ushered downstairs by Kadokawa's public relations staff.

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Meanwhile, the Flying Grand Ballroom on the first floor was like a pressure cooker about to boil over, brewing a crazy storm.

Although the two heavy, gilded doors were tightly closed, the blinding white light constantly spilling from the bottom of the door gaps and the dense sound of camera shutters clicking like a summer downpour behind the doors could not be concealed at all.

Inside the hall, a space that could normally accommodate a thousand people was so crowded by nearly three hundred media outlets from all over Japan that there wasn't even room to stand.

Kadokawa Pictures went to extreme lengths for this press conference, creating an outrageous spectacle.

The most advanced stage lighting and sound equipment in Japan are like giant beasts surrounding the hall. In the center of the hall, there are no elaborate flower baskets or decorations, only a huge pure black curtain that is as high as two stories.

In the center of the screen were two large, scarlet characters written in wild cursive script, seemingly still dripping blood under the spotlight: "《

Confession".

This is the violence of capital.

Those reporters who were originally sent by the editor-in-chief to report on the Naoki Prize, and who just half an hour ago claimed to have a sacred mission to literature, now had only fanaticism in their eyes.

It has to be said that the envelope handed to me by Kadokawa Pictures' public relations department was so thick it was burning hot.

The money inside was equivalent to three months' wages for their transportation expenses.

Moreover, the PR team dropped a bombshell behind the scenes.

Tonight, a heavyweight actress will make a surprise appearance to officially announce her starring role.

Driven by the brutal lure of money and the sensational news, the journalists' meager faith in the literary world was instantly cast to the winds.

As for the veteran writers of the Kyoto School upstairs who are still anxiously awaiting the awards, they have been completely forgotten by this group of profit-driven media professionals.

Whispers rippled through the reporters' seats, countless names were repeatedly discussed in whispers, and everyone was using their professional intuition to calculate tonight's headlines.

"Akina Nakamori is the most likely candidate. She has just gone through a turmoil, and the genuine sense of brokenness she exudes would make her a phenomenal topic of conversation if she were cast as Yuko Moriguchi."

"It's not impossible for Shinobu Otake to be involved. Although President Kadokawa is arrogant, he has always valued his reputation, and Shinobu Otake's acting skills are better suited to handle such a heavy subject."

"Is Momoi Kaoru available? Her unconventional temperament actually matches the cool demeanor conveyed in Kitahara-sensei's books quite well —"

Meanwhile, the off-site broadcast vans had already forcibly inserted the temporarily switched signals into the evening programming of major television stations.

In Shinjuku and Shibuya, a large number of office workers who had just finished get off work stopped in front of the large screens.

Students and housewives staying at home were also sitting in front of the television watching the program.

In this era of booming economy, a phenomenal social novel combined with the gimmick of a top-notch cinematic adaptation is enough to easily stir the nerves of the nation.

Inside a luxury apartment in the port area.

Having just weathered a storm, Akina Nakamori was curled up alone on the sofa in the dimly lit living room.

The dim light from the television screen shone on her slightly pale cheeks.

As the reporters on the broadcast confidently chanted her name, even forcibly linking her private life to the desperate female teacher in "Confessions," Akina Nakamori could only manage a bitter and self-deprecating smile.

She knows all too well how much people in this circle enjoy consuming their own pain.

"If it were me in the past—I probably wouldn't have had the courage to play Yuko Moriguchi—"

"But I'm different now!"

"Next—I need to keep going—"

"Until it gets better!"

Akina Nakamori muttered to herself, her gaze involuntarily drawn to the television screen.

Meanwhile, in a slightly cramped rental room in Tokyo.

Sachiko Kamachi, still feeling lost about the future and busy with various auditions and modeling jobs every day, and not yet shining brightly under the name ZARD, is sitting on the tatami with her knees drawn up to her chest.

The flickering light from the television screen reflected in her clear eyes.

Looking at the golden doors of the Flying Hall, a symbol of capital and glory, on the television screen, Sachiko Kamachi couldn't help but smile sincerely.

As one of Kitahara Iwa's few close friends, Kamachi Sachiko had personally witnessed him writing late into the night on many occasions.

Under the dim light, the pen nib scratched incessantly on the manuscript paper, the ink spreading layer by layer until the sky began to lighten, all of which she watched silently.

"Great, Kitahara-kun—your brilliance will finally be seen by everyone."

Sachiko Kamachi held the "Confessions" single volume, which she had bought long ago and which was already worn and curled from being read so many times, tightly in her arms.

"Next—I'll work hard too!"

On this night of revelry, Sachiko Kamachi, like any ordinary girl, sat in front of the television, genuinely proud of her friend's upcoming moment of glory.

Just as the various speculations and agitation in the hall reached their peak, a soft snap was heard.

The dazzling crystal chandelier in the Flying Hall went out instantly.

Then, an extremely suppressed low-pitched roar came from the professional-grade sound system in the hall.

With a dull thud, Kitahara Iwao and Kadokawa Haruki, surrounded by dozens of security guards, steadily stepped onto the stage.

Then the low-frequency rumble dissipated, and the dazzling lights in the Flying Hall instantly blazed on.

Hundreds of camera flashes went off wildly at the same time, creating a sea of ​​white light that could temporarily blind someone.

The incessant clicking of camera shutters was like machine gun fire, almost tearing the hotel ceiling off.

In the center of the sea of ​​light, Kadokawa Haruki and Kitahara Iwao had already taken their seats behind the long table on the dais.

There were no unnecessary small talk, nor the long and tedious pleasantries typical of traditional press conferences.

Haruki Kadokawa reached out and grabbed the microphone in front of him, ignoring the excited, flushed reporters below, and said directly, "Good evening, friends from the media. I don't like wasting time, so let's get straight to the point."

"The phenomenal masterpiece 'Confessions' by Kitahara Iwao will be officially adapted into a film starting tonight."

"Kadokawa Pictures will inject 800 million yen into its production budget. This is not only Kadokawa's largest investment this year, but also the highest-profile investment in the history of Japanese social mystery films."

"Eight hundred million yen?!"

"My God, that's the budget for an action blockbuster!"

A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

In this day and age, spending 800 million yen on a social thriller without any big-budget special effects is practically a crazy gamble.

The reporters' notebooks were being flipped through loudly. Everyone realized that Haruki Kadokawa was not just making movies; he was using pure financial violence to carve out a new path for mainstream culture.

Taking advantage of the moment when the audience was stunned by these numbers.

The reporter from the Yomiuri Shimbun in the front row seized the opportunity, abruptly stood up, held the recording pen high towards Kitahara Iwao, and said in a highly aggressive tone, "Teacher Kitahara!"

"Tonight is the night the Naoki Prize results will be announced, and you, as this year's most popular candidate, left the venue at the crucial moment when the judges were about to make their calls!"

"In your opinion, is this press conference for a commercial film more important than the Naoki Prize, the highest honor in Japanese popular literature?"

"Are you openly defying the authority of the traditional literary world?"