I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 23 1.77%
Takeshita Ai's apartment was spotless, and the air was filled with the faint scent of lavender.

She didn't drink any alcohol, but there was a cup of warm black tea in front of her.

When the last scene of the second episode of "Dark House" "Bai Misery" froze, and the harsh sound of brakes seemed to still echo in her ears, she let out a long breath and felt a chill on her back.

Even though she had seen it in advance during the review, when it was actually broadcast through the TV signal in such a quiet late night, the horror that seeped into her bones still made her heart palpitate.

She picked up the plan on the table that she had read several times, and her eyes fell on the name "Nohara Hiroshi" again, and the word behind it that he created, which seemed extremely novel in this world - "urban legend".

This is no longer just a simple horror animation.

Takeshita Ai asserted in her heart.

This is a brand-new narrative mode that abandons the distant ghosts and ancient legends in traditional horror stories, and instead focuses the camera on every ordinary person in the modern city, digging out the most primitive and resonant fear from their most familiar and daily life details.

Apartments, neighbors, hospitals, taxis…these are all traps, portals to the unknown.

This is a true stroke of genius.

Ai Takeshita picked up the teacup, and the warm liquid slid down her throat, but it could not dispel the chill in her heart, and the increasingly hot admiration.

She made up her mind that if, if the ratings of this animation really could not meet the standards of the TV station, she would never let such a gem be covered in dust.

She will go to see Deputy Director Ming Rihai in person.

Her old classmate who has had the same sharp vision since high school and never compromised with mediocrity will definitely understand the true value of "Anzhiju".

……

The next morning, in Suzuki's classroom.

The air was so heavy that it seemed as if water could drip out of it.

Everyone was present. Nancun Xing's dark circles looked as if they were painted on with ink, and Beichuan Yao's eyes were a little red and swollen. They were like prisoners awaiting trial, their eyes all fixed on the office door.

Finally, the door opened.

Hashimoto Ichiro walked in, clutching a thin report in his hand. The paper felt as if it weighed a thousand pounds. His face was even uglier than yesterday, a mixture of disappointment, resignation, and absurdity.

"Under the bridge..." Suzuki Seito's voice was very hoarse.

Hashijitaro didn't say anything, but just put the report in the middle of the table, and everyone subconsciously came over.

"Late-night animation "Anzhiju", second episode audience rating: 1.77%."

“The ratings are poor.”

1.77%.

There was deathly silence in the office.

If yesterday's 1.75% was a basin of ice water, then today's 1.77% is a merciless slap in the face.

It only rose by 0.02%.

This insignificant growth is more despairing than a cliff-like drop.

It meant that the "word-of-mouth seed" that Nohara Hiroshi had high hopes for yesterday had not sprouted at all. It meant that all their struggles were in vain.

"How...how could this be..." Nancun Xing's lips trembled and he couldn't say a complete sentence.

Hasegawa slumped into a chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, as if all his strength had been drained away. Kitagawa Yao could no longer hold back, burying her face in her arms and letting out suppressed, soft sobs.

It’s over.

This time, it's really over.

Suzuki Seito felt his heart tighten as he looked at the glaring number on the report. He didn't even dare look at Nohara Hiroshi, fearing he'd see the same despair on the face of the ever-confident young man.

Not far away in Iwata's classroom, there was an undisguised burst of laughter.

"Hahahaha! 1.77%! Oh my god, how did they do that? It actually increased by 0.02%! Are there two new viewers? One is his father and the other is his mother?"

"Section Chief, we can rest assured now! That old guy Suzuki is dead!"

"Just wait until next Monday to see how our 'Ghost House Warriors' will make a splash and crush their pitiful ratings into dust!"

Masao Iwata leaned back in his leather chair, listening to his subordinates' flattery, a smile of triumph and cruelty on his lips. He picked up the phone and reported the "good news" to Deputy Director Takada, who also chuckled with satisfaction on the other end of the line.

Everything is under control.

……

Just when Suzuki's classroom was shrouded in a low pressure of despair and was almost suffocating, a voice finally came from the corner that everyone subconsciously avoided.

"Everyone."

Nohara Hiroshi's voice remained calm, without any emotion. He stood up from his seat, walked over to the report, and picked it up.

Everyone's eyes were focused on him.

They saw that there was no despair, no reluctance, or even the slightest surprise on Nohara Hiroshi's face. His eyes were calm and focused, as if he were looking at a number that had nothing to do with him.

He held up the thin piece of paper in front of everyone, pointed to the number "1.77%" on it, and spoke slowly.

"What did you see?"

Everyone looked at each other, unsure how to respond. They had seen failure, they had seen despair, what else could they see?
Nohara Hiroshi's eyes swept across every pale face. His voice was not loud, but it was clearly heard by everyone.

“What I see is growth.”

He tapped his finger lightly on the "0.02%" increase.

"I know this number is insignificant, even a joke. But have you ever thought about what it means?"

He paused, giving everyone time to think, before continuing, "This means that without any publicity and with the show being in exile, our audience hasn't lost viewers. Instead...it's increased."

"This 0.02% doesn't just mean two people. In Tokyo, it represents thousands of families. It means that among yesterday's frightened audience, some people not only stayed in front of their TVs today, but also brought their friends, family, and colleagues with them."

"The spread of word-of-mouth never happens overnight. It's like a snowball. At the beginning, you can only see a tiny, insignificant mark on the snow. But as long as the slope is long enough and the snow is wet enough, it will grow bigger and bigger, eventually forming an avalanche."

His voice carried the calmness and strength of someone who saw through everything. He wasn't trying to comfort her, but rather stating a fact, a future that only he knew was bound to come.

"Our slopes are seven full days. Our snow is the unique horror of Anzhiju. Now, the snowball has just started to roll."

Nohara Hiroshi put down the report, looked around at everyone, and finally, a confident arc appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Everyone, the show has just begun."

(End of this chapter)