I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 171 Misae Goes Astray! Hiroshi Nohara, whose back aches, begs for mercy!
Time always seems to fly by when we're at our most carefree.

The seemingly long fifteen-day New Year holiday, like a brief sunny day in Akita Prefecture's winter, slipped by quietly amidst the warm laughter of families and the simple greetings between neighbors.

As Hiroshi Nohara started the black Toyota Crown again and drove away from the countryside shrouded in morning mist, the figures of his parents and older brother waving goodbye outside the car window gradually turned into three blurry black dots in the rearview mirror.

The sorrow of parting is like a cup of lukewarm sake, rippling gently across my heart.

The five-hour drive has come to an end.

As Hiroshi Nohara watched the familiar steel forest come into view again, the bustling atmosphere of the international metropolis acted like a shot of adrenaline, instantly revitalizing his slightly languid heart.

The battle is about to begin again.

Hiroshi Nohara stepped on the gas and quickly returned home.

The apartment door was gently turned with a key, and a familiar warmth, a blend of faint perfume and sunshine, wafted out.

The living room was spotless, the floor was polished to a shine, the cushions on the sofa were neatly arranged, and there was even a bunch of budding lilies on the coffee table.

Everything was in good order and full of life.

Hiroshi Nohara's lips unconsciously curved into a gentle smile.

He knew that his "president" had already returned to their little kingdom before him.

"I am back."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, instantly creating ripples in the inner room.

"Pap-ta-ta-ta-"

A series of hurried and cheerful footsteps approached from afar, and then a pretty figure, like a fledgling returning to its nest, rushed into his arms with a fragrant breeze.

"Hiroshi-kun! You're finally back!"

Misae tilted her rosy little face up and nuzzled her head affectionately against his firm chest. Her bright, sparkling eyes were filled with the joy and longing of their long-awaited reunion, like two polished obsidian stones.

Hiroshi Nohara chuckled, stretched out his arms, and tightly embraced the soft, fragrant woman in his arms, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones.

He lowered his head and gently kissed her smooth forehead, feeling the familiar, warm aura emanating from her, like a little sun. All the weariness in his heart vanished in that instant.

"Well, I'm back."

The two embraced quietly, enjoying this moment of warmth and tranquility.

Then, Hiroshi Nohara's smile gradually turned sinister.

Outside the window, the hustle and bustle of Tokyo seemed to be isolated in another world.

After a long while, Hiroshi Nohara finally released Misae, sat on the tatami mat, lit a cigarette, and pinched Misae's pert little nose, a playful smile flashing in his eyes: "My president, you're quick on the uptake. I just drove here, and you've already tidied up the house?"

"Of course!" Misae proudly raised her chin, her charming appearance like a kitten basking in praise.

She held up two slender, white fingers and gestured in the air, her tone filled with self-righteous pride: "I came back by plane! From Kumamoto to Tokyo, whoosh—it was over in a flash! Much faster than your slow, old-fashioned car!"

As she spoke, Misae seemed to have thought of something, and looked at Hiroshi Nohara with a peculiar smile: "Of course, you're fast too!"

"Oh? Is that so?" Hiroshi Nohara's lips twitched, then a meaningful smile appeared on his face. His eyes were like those of a cheetah eyeing its prey, full of aggression.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed the smug little woman, pinning her down. Amidst a series of shy gasps, he grinned maliciously again: "President Misae, it's been a long time. You seem to have become... a bit presumptuous!"

"Oh! You...you're bullying me again!" Misae's cheeks flushed bright red in an instant, like a ripe apple.

Her bright, sparkling eyes were already veiled with a layer of moist mist, like a pool of spring water rippling in circles.

After one hour.

The tatami mats in the bedroom still held the lingering warmth of a passionate encounter.

Misae, like a cat whose bones have been removed, lazily curled up in Hiroshi Nohara's arms, her rosy cheeks filled with contentment.

A mischievous smile flickered in her large, watery eyes.

“Hiroshi-kun…” Her voice was slightly hoarse, but her tone was as soft and sweet as a piece of rice cake about to melt: “I feel that… we still need to discuss whether you drive fast or not.”

"..."

Hiroshi Nohara's body trembled almost imperceptibly.

At this point, he coughed slightly, as if admitting defeat: "You know Misae, I've been driving for almost six hours... It's understandable that I feel tired at this point... and I really need to rest..."

Misae immediately revealed a mischievous smile, but just as she was about to say something, her phone rang.

'Ring ring—! Ring ring—!'

A sudden, shrill cell phone ring, untimely, shattered the ambiguous tranquility.

Hiroshi Nohara's brows instantly relaxed.

He glanced at the constantly vibrating mobile phone on the bedside table, a hint of relief in his eyes.

"Who is it? Calling so late?" Misae pouted, her voice filled with a coquettish reproach for being interrupted.

Hiroshi Nohara sighed, feigning helplessness. He reached out and gently rubbed the fluffy little head, soothingly saying, "Alright, don't be angry. It's probably something to do at work."

As he spoke, he picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID—[Tadokoro Masato].

An editor at Shueisha.

Hiroshi Nohara's fondness for editor Tadokoro has increased dramatically!

He answered the phone, and his voice had long since lost all its charm, leaving only the calm and composure of a producer.

"Hello, Mr. Tadokoro, Happy New Year."

"Oh! Mr. Nohara! Happy New Year! Happy New Year!" On the other end of the phone came Masato Tadokoro's enthusiastic and respectful voice, with the lively noise of the editorial department in the background: "I'm so sorry to bother you! It's just... it's just that I have something urgent to report to you."

"Please go ahead," Hiroshi Nohara said patiently.

"That's right, Mr. Nohara."

Tadokoro Masato's voice carried a hint of embarrassment: "As you know, the New Year holiday has just ended, and the readers' enthusiasm is at an all-time high! Whether it's 'Yu Yu Hakusho,' 'Doraemon,' or the heartwarming 'Midnight Diner,' they are all our Shueisha's hottest flagship works right now!"

"But then a problem arises."

His voice was filled with helplessness: "The manuscripts for these three works are now... now they're all running out! Especially 'Yu Yu Hakusho,' readers are calling every day urging us to update, our editorial office phones are practically ringing off the hook! So... so I wanted to ask you, Mr. Nohara, do you think... it's possible to... draw a few more manuscripts?"

"Oh, right!" He seemed to suddenly remember something and quickly added, "There's more good news! After a unanimous discussion in our editorial department, we've decided to officially release Doraemon as a collected volume! Moreover, if the quality of Midnight Diner continues to maintain its current level, we also plan to include it in our collected volume release plan!"

"Oh?" Hiroshi Nohara raised an eyebrow.

This is undoubtedly great news.

It's important to know that in Japan, whether a manga can be published as a standalone volume is one of the most important criteria for measuring its commercial value and market potential.

Once the standalone edition is released, it means that this work will no longer be a simple magazine serial, but will become a true "timeless classic" that can be collected by countless readers and read repeatedly.

“Of course, that’s wonderful, Mr. Tadokoro.” Hiroshi Nohara’s voice was tinged with amusement. “I will send the latest manuscripts of Yu Yu Hakusho, Doraemon and Midnight Diner to your editorial department this week.”

Hiroshi Nohara stroked his chin as he spoke: "If there are no unforeseen circumstances, I should be able to give you... five episodes per series."

"..."

There was a deathly silence on the other end of the phone.

All that remained was Masato Tadokoro's heavy breathing, a result of extreme shock.

"No... Nohara-sensei... what... what did you just say?!" After a long while, Tadokoro Masato's voice rang out again, his voice carrying a suppressed tremor and... horror!
He even suspected that he might be hallucinating because he had been working too much overtime lately.

“I said, five episodes per series.” Hiroshi Nohara’s voice remained calm and composed, as if what he had just said was not a terrifying workload that would kill any full-time manga artist on the spot, but as simple as deciding what to eat for dinner tonight.

"The three parts together will make a total of fifteen chapters, which I'll give to you within a week. Then I'll try to draw some more at the end of the month, enough for you to serialize for more than a month."

boom--!
This number, like a highly accurate nuclear bomb, exploded in Tadokoro Masato's mind in an instant!

He stood there blankly, his already weary face frozen in a moment!

Fifteen episodes?!

Within a week?!

This...this can't be described simply as "genius"!
This is clearly... a real miracle!

He knows it too well!
He knew all too well that in Japan, a top full-time manga artist who could produce seven or eight chapters of serialized content a month was already considered a "model worker"!

And Hiroshi Nohara, this "part-time" manga artist who wears many hats—producer, director, and screenwriter—actually...actually managed to draw fifteen chapters in a single week?!
And judging from his nonchalant tone, it seemed... as if he still had energy left?!
This...this is simply...a monster!

"Good...good! Good!" After a long while, Tadokoro Masato finally came to his senses from the huge shock. He was so excited that he was incoherent. As a manga editor, he certainly wouldn't mind his manga artists updating their manga too frequently.

"Mr. Nohara! You...you can rest assured! Shueisha will use the best resources to promote your works! We guarantee that every one of your works will become a bestseller!"

"Okay, thank you for your help." Hiroshi Nohara simply nodded calmly, exchanged a few more pleasantries, and then hung up the phone.

He put down his phone, turned around, and saw Misae's bright, sparkling eyes staring at him with unblinking curiosity.

"Hiroshi-kun, is it about work?" Like a curious kitten, her fluffy little head peeked over again.

"Mm." Hiroshi Nohara nodded, reached out and pulled the soft, fragrant woman back into his arms, a gentle smile returning to his face.

“My dear president,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of teasing, “the New Year holiday is over. It’s time for your Future Comics Club to officially open for business.”

"Really?!" Misae's eyes lit up instantly!

She suddenly sat up in his arms, her rosy cheeks filled with barely suppressed excitement and anticipation: "Then... then what do I need to do?"

“It’s very simple.” Hiroshi Nohara’s lips curled into a confident smile. “Next, I will draw all the manuscripts for these fifteen chapters. Your task is to lead your staff to do the final coloring and refinement of these manuscripts.”

As he spoke, he stood up from the tatami mat, stretched, and his posture resembled that of a lion about to go into hunting mode—elegant yet full of absolute power.

"Alright, my president." He turned around, looking at the little woman whose fighting spirit had been completely ignited by his words, and a confident smile returned to his face.

"Are you ready for a creative storm that belongs only to us?"

"Yes!" Misae nodded emphatically, her bright, sparkling eyes burning with a raging fire that could start a wildfire!
But Misae pouted her pink lips and asked, "What about driving fast or slow...?"

"Ahem!" Hiroshi Nohara said seriously, "The important matter comes first!"

"Oh..." Misae pouted, extremely disappointed.

So, the future president of the manga company, who was just lazily lounging on the tatami mat like a cat, suddenly became like a highly efficient commander, quickly getting dressed and starting to send pager text messages to her employees one by one, arranging tomorrow's tasks in advance.

Hiroshi Nohara, on the other hand, had already sat down at the huge drawing table that had been prepared especially for him.

Without the slightest hesitation, he picked up his paintbrush and, with fluid grace, began to construct one wondrous miniature universe after another on the snow-white canvas.

After finishing her phone call, Misae sat quietly to the side, her bright eyes filled with curiosity and admiration as she watched Hiroshi Nohara create.

Hiroshi Nohara's hands moved so fast that they were almost just a blur!
That ordinary paintbrush seemed to come alive at his fingertips, leaping and dancing on the snow-white paper, outlining precise and powerful lines!
The characters' outlines, the construction of the scenes, the switching of the storyboards... everything was completed in one go with his superb skill, flowing smoothly without any pauses or revisions!

It was as if he wasn't creating, but simply replicating in the most perfect way those scenes that he had already rehearsed a thousand times in his mind!

One hour……

Two hours...

Three hours……

As the light outside the window gradually dimmed and was replaced by darkness, Hiroshi Nohara finally put down his pen.

Before him stood a hill, constructed from fifteen chapters and nearly three hundred pages of perfect artwork!
"call--"

He let out a long breath, a breath that carried a hint of exhaustion from the battle, yet was also filled with an indescribable sense of satisfaction.

He turned his head and looked at the little woman who was completely stunned by his "miraculous" operation, and a gentle smile bloomed on his face again.

"Alright, my president." His voice was slightly hoarse, yet full of affection: "I'll leave the rest of the tidying up to you. I really need to go to sleep now."

He got up and walked towards the bed.

Then he drifted off to sleep.

He is really tired.

"Amazing!" Misae picked up the drawings and stared blankly at the exquisite lines and the complete stories. Then she looked at the god-like man who was already fast asleep in bed. Her heart, which had been completely conquered by him, was filled with nothing but shock and a sense of pride from the bottom of her bones.

This is her man!
She tiptoed to the bedside, looked at his face, which was still impeccably handsome even in his sleep, and a sly, fox-like smile curled at the corners of her lips.

She gently lifted a corner of the blanket and, like a kitten that had stolen some fish, silently slipped inside.

Then, it nestled its little head happily against his broad and sturdy chest.

Listening to his steady and powerful heartbeat, and feeling the reassuring warmth emanating from him, Misae slowly closed her eyes.

They fell asleep together.

"Goodnight!" Misae murmured softly, "Sweet dreams~"

Outside the window, the curtain of night enveloped the world, casting a peaceful and tranquil glow upon this small apartment filled with love and miracles.

……

The first rays of morning sunlight, like a shy young girl, gently parted the thin layer of morning mist over Tokyo, softly casting golden light into the apartment bedroom.

The light danced on Hiroshi Nohara's handsome face, his long eyelashes trembled slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.

What comes into view is the familiar white ceiling, and the air is filled with Misae's unique warm fragrance, a blend of light perfume and the scent of sunshine.

Beside him, the soft and sweet-smelling woman was curled up in his arms, sleeping soundly with a satisfied smile on her lips.

Hiroshi Nohara was momentarily dazed.

He subconsciously thought he was still in his old home in Akita Prefecture, in that rustic bedroom, and that he would hear his mother calling him from downstairs to get up and have breakfast the next second.

It wasn't until he saw the familiar cityscape outside the window, constructed from countless steel bars and concrete, that his slightly languid heart was completely awakened by this bustling skyline.

Back in Tokyo.

Hiroshi Nohara's lips unconsciously curved into a gentle smile.

He lowered his head and gently kissed her fair forehead, feeling the reassuring warmth emanating from her. All the weariness and alienation in his heart vanished in that moment.

He carefully pulled his arm out from under Misae's neck, then quietly lifted the covers to get out of bed.

"Hmm..." The warmth in her arms suddenly disappeared, and Misae snorted in dissatisfaction, like a kitten whose favorite toy had been taken away. She subconsciously reached out and grabbed at the air a couple of times, muttering something indistinctly.

"Alright, my president, it's time to get up." Hiroshi Nohara chuckled, reached out and gently pinched her rosy cheeks, his tone full of affection: "If you don't get up now, you'll be late for work."

"Ugh...no..." Misae squirmed in dissatisfaction, burying her little head even deeper into the soft pillow. "Just a little longer...just a little longer..."

Seeing her adorable, reluctant-to-get-out-of-bed appearance, Hiroshi Nohara felt a warmth in his heart, and his protective instincts and sense of conquest as a man were instantly ignited.

He decided to wake the "Sleeping Beauty" from her slumber with a hearty breakfast.

He threw off the covers, stood up briskly, stretched, and prepared to go to the kitchen to show off his culinary skills.

However, the moment he straightened up, a sudden, sharp pain, like an electric current, shot up from his waist and spread throughout his body!

"hiss--!"

Hiroshi Nohara's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.

He subconsciously raised his hand to support his aching lower back, a look of embarrassment appearing on his face.

"Pfft——!"

A suppressed chuckle suddenly came from behind.

Hiroshi Nohara turned around abruptly and saw that Misae had woken up at some point and was lying on her side on the tatami with her mouth covered by the blanket. Her bright, sparkling eyes were like two sweet crescent moons, filled with a mischievous smile.

"Hiroshi-kun..." Her voice was slightly hoarse from just waking up, yet filled with an undisguised teasing: "You...you...do you have a backache?"

"..."

Hiroshi Nohara pursed his lips, somewhat speechless.

"Ahem!" He coughed, trying to appear calm, and forced an explanation: "N-what nonsense are you talking about! I...I'm just...I was driving for almost six hours yesterday and I'm a little tired! It has nothing to do with...nothing else!"

"Yes, yes, yes! It's okay! It's okay!" Misae laughed so hard she curled up into a ball like a happy little shrimp. "I know! I know Hiroshi-kun, you're the best driver! Fast and steady! It's just... it's just a little hard on your back!"

Hiroshi Nohara opened his mouth, wanting to refute this sarcastic remark, but couldn't utter a single word.

In the end, he could only helplessly say, "I'm going to the bathroom to wash up," and then quickly slipped away.

If I don't run away, am I supposed to teach Misae a lesson?

Stop fooling around...

"Alright, alright, I'm not teasing you anymore!"

Misae finally stopped laughing. She sat up nimbly from the tatami mat, her rosy cheeks filled with contentment.

She watched Hiroshi Nohara's "disheveled" back, and in his bright, sparkling eyes, a radiant smile, like that of a little devil, flickered.

"Hiroshi-kun, go wash up first." Her voice regained its wifely gentleness and consideration: "I'll make breakfast. Just sit quietly at the table and wait to eat."

Upon hearing this, Hiroshi Nohara's heart, which had been hanging in suspense, finally settled back into his stomach.

He knew that he had finally escaped a disaster today.

……

The morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen window, illuminating the entire room.

Misae was like a busy little bee, working methodically in that small space.

She skillfully took two bottles of fresh milk, still covered in morning dew, from the milk box by the door, and then took out frozen rice and vegetables that she had prepared beforehand from the freezer.

The microwave hummed, and soon the bowl of glistening rice emitted an enticing aroma.

The butter melts in the frying pan, sizzling as it cooks. The vibrant green vegetables sizzle and stir-fry, creating an enticing scene with the golden eggs.

On the other side, miso soup was bubbling away in a pot, its rich aroma of soybeans instantly filling the entire kitchen.

Finally, she fried a few cute little sausages cut into octopus shapes in a frying pan until they were crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. The caramelized aroma of the meat was like the most precise hook, instantly wafting up Hiroshi Nohara's already hungry taste buds.

In less than ten minutes, a hearty and warm breakfast, full of Japanese family flavor, was neatly laid out on the table.

Looking at the heartwarming scene filled with the warmth of everyday life, Hiroshi Nohara felt immensely gratified.

He picked up his chopsticks, took a perfectly fried sausage, and put it in his mouth. The crispy outside and tender inside, along with the just-right salty and savory flavor, exploded in his mouth!

"Delicious!" he exclaimed sincerely, his clear eyes filled with appreciation and satisfaction for his lover's superb culinary skills.

Upon hearing this, Misae's face, which was always full of energy and charm, instantly blossomed into a smile even brighter than the sun.

"Of course!" She raised her eyebrows proudly. "My cooking, Misae's, is the best in all of Japan!"

“That’s it!” Hiroshi Nohara nodded in agreement.

“But speaking of which, Hiroshi-kun,” Misae took a sip of warm miso soup, her bright eyes sparkling with a mischievous smile again, “is your back… really alright?”

"Cough!" Hiroshi Nohara's cheeks flushed slightly again, almost imperceptibly.

He forced a smile and explained, "I already said, it's because I've been driving for too long! You... don't overthink it!"

"Really?" A sly smile curved Misae's lips, her eyes like those of a little fox who had just stolen some fish. "Then... how about I give you... a good massage tonight?"

"..."

Hiroshi Nohara felt his heart, which had just calmed down, being mercilessly stirred up again by Misae's suggestive words.

He opened his mouth, wanting to refuse, but couldn't bear to. He wanted to agree, but couldn't bring himself to do it.

In the end, he could only lower his head silently and quickly shovel rice into his bowl: "Let's eat first, Misae."

Seeing his embarrassed expression, Misae finally revealed a bright smile of satisfaction, as if she had successfully pulled off a prank.

She realized the time she had spent with Mengya.

You've become a bad influence yourself!
……

As that black Toyota Crown once again merged into the relentless flow of traffic in Tokyo, the first rays of the new year's workday sunlight had already thoroughly awakened this steel jungle.

Hiroshi Nohara dropped Misae off at the entrance of the Mirai Manga Club, a small, unassuming building that exuded an artistic atmosphere.

“Alright, my president.” Hiroshi Nohara stopped the car, turned around, looked at the petite woman who was already dressed and ready to go, and a gentle smile returned to his face: “I’ll drop you off here.”

"Okay!" Misae nodded, unbuckled her seatbelt, and gently kissed his handsome cheek. Her bright eyes were filled with anticipation and longing for the new day's work. "Hiroshi-kun, you too, be careful on the road."

However, just as she was about to get off the bus, Hiroshi Nohara suddenly grabbed her hand.

"Wait a moment."

He pointed to the huge file bags filled with drawings in the back seat, a matter-of-fact smile appearing on his face: "My dear president, you don't expect me, the driver with 'back pain,' to just watch you carry all these heavy things up by yourself, do you?"

"Oh dear! Don't talk nonsense like that outside..." Misae's cheeks flushed bright red in an instant.

She gave him a reproachful look, but her eyes were filled with tenderness and doting affection: "I know! I know! You're the best at being cute! Hurry up! Get out of the car! I'll help you carry it!"

The two smiled at each other, and then walked one after the other into the small building that was full of dreams and hopes.

The office of Future Comics Studio, though small, is decorated in a warm and creative way.

The walls were covered with beautiful posters of "Yu Yu Hakusho", "Doraemon" and "Midnight Diner", and the air was filled with the faint aroma of coffee and the fresh scent of paper and ink.

Four or five young people who looked quite young were sitting at their respective drawing tables, busily working in an orderly manner.

When they saw Hiroshi Nohara and Misae walk in, they immediately stood up and bowed respectfully.

"Hello, President! Hello, Mr. Nohara!"

The voice was filled with heartfelt awe and admiration for the two "bosses".

Misae is the company president, and she pays them quite a lot of money.

Not to mention Hiroshi Nohara.

Famous cartoonists, directors, and producers—these young people all greatly admire him.

"Yes, Happy New Year, everyone." Hiroshi Nohara simply nodded calmly and gently placed the sketch in his hand on the huge conference table.

He looked at the young people, a gentle smile returning to his face, and said after a moment's thought, "Alright everyone, this is your workload for the next week. I've marked the key points for coloring on the side of each page. I hope you will treat each drawing with the utmost professionalism and seriousness."

"If the inspection is fine within a week, I'll give you a huge bonus for starting work! A bonus no less than a month's salary!"

Nothing is more exciting than a big red envelope containing a month's salary.

The young people immediately showed their delight.

"Hey! We got it!"

Four or five people bowed in unison, their voices filled with unwavering resolve.

"Yoshi! Very good! Very energetic!" Hiroshi Nohara nodded in satisfaction, gave Misae a few more instructions, and then turned to go to work.

……

TV Tokyo, Headquarters Production Building.

Hiroshi Nohara walked with steady steps through the glass door that symbolized the highest power in the Japanese television industry.

Along the way, every employee he encountered, whether an ordinary intern or a powerful second-level director, stopped and bowed respectfully to greet him.

"Lord Nohara, Happy New Year!"

That voice was filled with heartfelt admiration.

"Ah."

Hiroshi Nohara simply smiled and nodded in response. His nonchalant demeanor and the air of someone who seemed to have everything under control captivated the young employees.

When he stepped into his own independent kingdom on the seventeenth floor, the entire department was already completely engulfed by an atmosphere of excitement and fervor.

"Minister! You're back!"

"Minister! Happy New Year!"

"Minister Nohara! You are truly...our god!"

The young employees, like a group of fans who had seen their idol, immediately surrounded him. Their young and energetic faces were filled with fervent worship for their manager's god-like abilities.

"Alright, alright, Happy New Year, everyone." Hiroshi Nohara simply smiled calmly. He looked at the group of "believers" before him, who were already completely captivated by him, and a hint of helpless amusement flashed in his clear eyes: "What are you all discussing? Why are you so happy?"

"Minister! You didn't know?!" A rather clever-looking young man couldn't contain himself any longer, excitedly waving his newspaper, his voice filled with pride: "Seven Samurai! The box office for Seven Samurai! It's already...it's already surpassed the 3 billion yen mark!"

"What?!" Even though Tanaka Kei, Yamamoto Takeshi, and Hashiichiro had already anticipated their captain's abilities, when they heard this number, an undisguised look of shock appeared on their usually composed faces!
Three billion yen? !

How long has it been?!
“That’s right! It’s three billion!” another girl added excitedly, her bright eyes glistening with tears. “When I went home for Chinese New Year, my whole family went to see Seven Samurai! My dad and my grandpa both said it was the best samurai movie they’d ever seen! They said, you… you’re the one who truly understands us Japanese, who truly understands us ordinary people, you’re a genius!”

"Yeah yeah!"

In an instant, praise poured in like a tidal wave!
Everyone generously lavished the most eloquent words upon the man who, in their eyes, had created a miracle.

"Let me tell you!" The quick-witted young man who started earlier waved his fist triumphantly, his voice filled with boundless anticipation for the future: "At this rate! Our 'Seven Samurai' will definitely break the 5 billion yen mark at the box office! It might even... it might even become a domestic film that breaks 6 billion yen at the box office!"

"That's right! Absolutely!"

"Long live Minister Nohara!"

The entire department was completely engulfed in a sea of ​​celebration filled with victory and joy.

Hiroshi Nohara looked at the group of young people in front of him and a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

He knew that the game he had set up had come to life.

"Alright, alright, everyone be quiet." He raised his hand to signal everyone to be quiet.

He looked at the expectant faces of the crowd, and a confident smile curved his lips.

“If—and I mean if,” his voice was calm yet alluring, “the final box office for *Seven Samurai* really does break 5 billion yen. Then, I’ll treat our entire department to a trip to Ginza, to eat the finest Wagyu beef and drink the best sake! How about that?”

"oh--!"

This promise instantly resonated throughout the entire department!

Everyone erupted in thunderous cheers!
They looked at the young man with eyes full of boundless hope for the future and absolute trust in Hiroshi Nohara's godlike abilities!

They knew this man never made empty promises.

They also knew that the victory celebration was just around the corner!

"So... can I also get a free meal?"

Amidst the clamor of revelry and joy, a refined yet teasing voice unexpectedly rang out from the office doorway.

Everyone turned around at the sound and saw Ming Rihai, the deputy director who could silence any producer outside, leaning against the door frame. His usually refined and composed face was filled with a helpless expression that was both funny and exasperating.

"Deputy Director Ming Rihai!"

"Good morning, Deputy Director!"

Everyone greeted them respectfully.

Hiroshi Nohara greeted him with a smile: "Deputy Director Asumi, what brings you here?"

"If I hadn't come, I'm afraid you guys would have ripped the roof off my office." Asumi rolled her eyes at him, but her eyes were full of undisguised admiration.

He handed a document to Hiroshi Nohara.

"See for yourself." His voice carried a hint of shock: "You little rascal, you've created another miracle that's enough to drive everyone crazy."

Hiroshi Nohara took the document; it was a recent box office statistics table for "Seven Samurai".

Above, printed in the most striking and glaring red font, is an astronomical figure that would take the breath away of any film industry professional.

Since its release on Christmas Eve, in just twenty-two days, "Seven Samurai" has already...

—It has been reached, 3.98 billion yen!

We're just one step away from the 4 billion yen mark!
Below the report, there is a line containing the final box office forecast made by TV Tokyo's top market analyst.

"...Based on the current box office trend and the positive word-of-mouth, there is a very high probability that 'Seven Samurai' will break the 5 billion yen mark at the box office. It may even reach 7 billion yen, becoming the undisputed box office champion of the year!"

P.S.: Still asking for votes~ Don't stop voting~
(End of this chapter)