I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 11 Watch
The Audit Department's office was so quiet that you could hear the faint sound of the air-conditioning vents.

Ai Takeshita sat behind her desk, on which were neatly arranged documents and stationery, as well as a large desktop computer with a small projection device connected to it.

She first picked up the "Ghost House Samurai" plan sent by Masao Iwata.

Opening the first page, you will see gorgeous renderings and lineup introduction.

Well-known novelists, veteran directors, popular actors... every name shines.

She flipped through the pages one by one. The plan was indeed very detailed, from the script outline to the storyboard sketches to the scene settings, it all exuded a sense of "no shortage of money" in its ambition.

However, when she turned to the budget page, she couldn't help but frown.

"Budget per episode, two million yen?"

She tapped the table lightly with her fingers, making a regular "tap-tap" sound.

This number is a bit outrageous for a late-night horror short.

In her experience, this amount of money is enough to produce a quarter of an episode of prime-time animation.

She could see that there were too many unnecessary expenses and too many extravagant gimmicks. This didn't seem like a project, but more like a money-burning party.

"The deputy director's project..." She whispered to herself, a hint of helplessness and annoyance flashing in her eyes.

In a TV station, professional judgment sometimes has to bow to authority. She can raise questions, but the final result is probably difficult to change.

She put the gorgeous plan aside and thought about Deputy Director Takada, who was always known as a greedy glutton. She had already made a preliminary judgment in her mind, and her eyes were filled with disgust.

Then, her eyes fell on the somewhat ordinary-looking plan and cheap videotape.

"Dark Chiju".

The name is quite interesting.

She picked up the few pages of simple instructions again, which only contained a brief project description and a budget table.

When she saw the total amount at the bottom of the budget sheet, her calm eyes showed real surprise for the first time.

She even suspected that she had seen it wrong, so she moved closer and looked again carefully.

Then she placed this budget sheet side by side with the budget sheet for "Ghost Shop Samurai" next to it.

two millions.

And... one million.

One is in heaven and the other is underground.

A playful expression of interest appeared on Takeshita Ai's face. She leaned back in her chair, her slender fingers gently stroking the videotape.

In this world full of lies, exaggeration and exchange of interests, the sudden appearance of something so "real" to the point of being crude aroused all her curiosity.

She picked up the videotape, stood up, walked to the projector in the corner of the office, and wanted to insert it to play it.

But think about it.

Ai Takeshita still hesitated and put "Anzhijuu" back on the table, picked up "Kibo Samurai" and inserted it into the projector.

His face looked a little ugly, as if he had to obey.

She returned to her chair and sat down, turning on the small projection control device next to the computer. With a click, the cartoon began to play on the screen hanging on the wall.

Along with a faint flute sound, the name of "Ghost House Samurai" also appeared on it.

The screen flickered, and the scene of "Ghost House Samurai" occupied the entire screen.

...The visual quality is superb, with a grainy texture reminiscent of film, combined with a carefully selected somber color palette, instantly transporting the viewer back to the Edo period, a time rife with ghosts and monsters.

In the eerie ancient temple and the dim long street, warriors in heavy armor flashed by like ghosts, accompanied by shrill screams and the dull sound of blades entering flesh.

The first few minutes really created a top-notch horror atmosphere.

Ai Takeshita leaned forward slightly, her eyes behind her gold-rimmed glasses sharp and focused. Like an experienced hunter, she scrutinized the prey before her, assessing its every bit of value.

The sound effects, music, editing...all the technical aspects are first-class.

However, as the plot unfolded, Takeshita Ai's body, which had been leaning forward, slowly leaned back against the back of the chair.

The concentration in her eyes was gradually replaced by a kind of commonplace indifference.

The outline of the story was almost exactly as she had expected.

A warrior whose wife was poisoned to death because of her adultery, could not help but harbor resentment and turned into a demon, indiscriminately killing passers-by on the streets at night.

Then, a compassionate wandering monk and a powerful Yin-Yang master met by chance and decided to join forces to subdue the demon.

The battle scenes are gorgeous, with the glow of talismans and the cold light of samurai swords complementing each other, and the special effects burned a huge budget.

In the end, the evil ghost was defeated. Before it dissipated, his hideous face regained its former handsomeness, and he recounted his grievances with tears of blood.

The monk teamed up with Yin Yang Si to find the adulterous couple. They used Buddhism and Shikigami to make them see the miserable state of the evil ghost, and finally made them repent and confess in front of the evil ghost's grave.

End of story.

Very complete, very standard, and very... boring.

Ai Takeshita pressed the stop button, the buzzing sound in the projector stopped suddenly, and the office returned to silence in an instant.

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyebrows gently.

The bloody scenes and shocking sound effects just now did cause her adrenaline to fluctuate, and her face looked a little pale.

But it's like riding a roller coaster. It's thrilling, but once it stops, nothing is left except a moment of dizziness.

She could see dozens of versions of this kind of story in various business plans in a year.

Change the soup but not the dressing.

It's nothing more than replacing the warrior with a princess, the monk with a shrine maiden, and the poisoning with a frame-up.

The core is always the love, hate and vengeance between men and women, which is finally forcibly sublimated with the theme of "letting go" and "forgiveness".

"Two million yen..." Takeshita Ai looked at the exquisite plan, a hint of sarcasm curling up at the corner of her mouth: "Just to tell a clichéd story that even street rakugo artists are too lazy to tell a second time?"

Money can indeed buy fancy packaging.

But underneath the packaging, if the soul is empty, it's just a more expensive piece of trash.

She pushed the proposal for "Ghost House Samurai" aside, as if it was stained with something unpleasant.

Then her eyes fell on the cheap videotape.

"Dark Chiju".

The three handwritten and somewhat childish Chinese characters on the cover, in Takeshita Ai's eyes, now revealed a simple and unpretentious sincerity.

She picked up the videotape; it was so light, the plastic casing even had some rough edges.

Is this thing really watchable?
With a hint of curiosity that she herself was not aware of, Takeshita Ai stuffed the videotape into the projector.

(End of this chapter)