I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 27: Paper

Most things in this world are like the tides, with ups and downs.

The dark cloud that had been hanging over Suzuki's classroom a few days ago, seeming to suffocate people, has now been completely dispelled by a dazzling ray of sunlight called "2.98%".

The musty smell that had been suppressed in the office for a long time seemed to become fresh with the breeze blowing in from the window.

Early morning, Tokyo TV production department.

The lights in Suzuki's classroom were still on.

The air was filled with a strange yet incomparably harmonious aroma - it was the smell of white foam when a can of beer was opened in the convenience store, the sweet aroma of the slightly burnt sauce on the charcoal-grilled bird, and the worldly smell of rice, fried chicken, and tamagoyaki mixed together after opening various bento boxes.

This celebratory banquet seemed a bit shabby, even a bit embarrassing.

The food was placed on the desk piled with drawings and materials. Everyone was sitting or standing, with no rules or courtesy. They were like a group of guerrillas who had just fought a brutal street battle, sharing the joy of victory in the simplest and most brutal way in their temporary stronghold.

"cheers!"

Hashijitaro's face, usually filled with calmness and anguish, now glowed with excitement. He raised the beer can high in his hand, as if holding up a medal.

"For Anzhiju! For Nohara-kun! For ourselves!"

"oh--!"

Nancun Xing and Chang Gu Lu Zou almost shouted in response. The beer cans collided with each other, making a crisp sound and splashing foam everywhere, but they didn't care. They tilted their heads back and drank it all in one gulp. The cold liquid slid down their throats, extinguishing the anxiety of the past few days, but ignited the fire of "sense of accomplishment" in their chests.

"Nohara-kun, you are simply a god!"

Nancun Xing wiped the beer foam from the corner of his mouth, his eyes shining frighteningly bright. The look in his eyes as he looked at Nohara Hiroshi had completely transformed from initial amazement to almost fanatical admiration. "When I think of that episode of 'Family Instructions', I still get chills down my spine! That last look from the grandfather was absolutely stunning! I even dreamed about it last night!"

"Who says it isn't?" Hasejizo grabbed a skewer of yakitori, took a big bite, and said incoherently, "After seeing this, my sister called me and scolded me. She said that now she feels uneasy when she sees her family members laughing. She also asked me what happened to the boy in the end? Was their whole family eaten by 'that thing'?"

Beichuan Yao ate the rice balls in her bento in small bites, a smile of having survived a disaster on her face. She looked at Nohara Hiroshi and said softly, "Nohara-kun, there's a lot of discussion outside right now. Even on the train, people are talking about our Anzhiju."

Suzuki Seito did not join in the young people's noise. He just sat aside, sipping beer and watching the joyous scene in front of him with a gentle look.

That weather-beaten face, with its crisscross pattern of wrinkles, now seemed to have been washed by a rain of joy, glowing with an unprecedented radiance.

He looked at Nohara Hiroshi, who was surrounded by the crowd and whose expression remained calm, and an indescribable emotion surged in his heart.

This is not just digging up a treasure, it's clearly inviting a god.

Nohara Hiroshi met everyone's gazes with a faint smile. He picked up a can of beer, clinked it lightly with Suzuki Seito's glass, and then said, "Everyone, you should be happy, but now is not the time to completely relax."

His voice was not loud, but it seemed to have some kind of magical power, instantly quieting the noisy office. Everyone's eyes subconsciously focused on him.

"'The Talisman Girl,' 'Worship of Misery,' and 'Family Instructions,' these first three episodes are like bait for fishing."

Nohara Hiroshi glanced at the audience and explained calmly, "In the first episode, we used elements closest to life to tell the audience that our horror is happening right next to you. In the second episode, we used folk customs and unexpected events to deepen this sense of terror. In the third episode, we used an open ending to arouse the audience's curiosity and desire for discussion. With these three tricks, as long as the audience is attracted, they will basically be stuck."

He paused, and the curve of his mouth showed a hint of deep meaning.

"But bait is just bait after all. The real fun begins with tonight's fourth episode. From this episode on, we're going to create the first real climax, wave after wave, so that everyone will be immersed in the world of 'Anzhiju' and can no longer extricate themselves!"

His words made everyone's heart rise again.

The first three episodes are already so terrifying, and yet this is just bait? How thrilling will the true climax be?
……

Wednesday, late at night, 12:20.

The signal from Tokyo TV brought the eerie nursery rhymes and drum sounds into thousands of homes as promised.

The masked man drew back the curtain.

【Anzhiju Paper】

This time, the story's stage is moved to an elementary school office.

It was late at night, the entire teaching building shrouded in silence. Only the lights in one office were still on. Under the glow, a young female teacher rubbed her temples wearily. The desk in front of her was piled high with lesson preparation materials and student homework.

This was a typical overtime night.

The female teacher let out a long breath and placed the last handwritten handout on the scanning panel of the multi-function printer next to her.

The printer emitted a low hum, like a dormant steel beast awakened and began to work. White paper was slowly swallowed in and slowly spit out from the other end.

The teacher picked up the printed manuscript and prepared to do the final proofreading.

But her gaze froze the moment it touched the paper.

Beyond her neat handwriting, the pristine white paper bore a few... eerie black lines. They weren't thick, but they were incredibly dark, as if drawn with the thickest ink. They twisted and twisted without a single pattern, coiling in the center of the paper like some ominous totem, or perhaps... a gathering of evil thoughts from some ghost or deity.

"Hmm? Out of ink?"

The teacher frowned, this was the most common thought. She picked up the manuscript and printed another copy.

The result was exactly the same. Those eerie black lines remained in the same position, neither increasing nor decreasing, with an unsettling stubbornness.

"Really? At a time like this..." the teacher complained, somewhat annoyed. But no matter how Ren Ping repaired it, the printer wouldn't return to normal, and the black lines on the paper became increasingly obvious.

In the end, it turned into... a bunch of horrifying faces on white paper!
"what!"

The teacher screamed in fright and suddenly let go of the white papers with scary ghost faces printed on them, and they immediately scattered all over the floor.

Her heart was pounding, her face was pale, and all the blood in her body seemed to freeze in an instant. She leaned against the table, gasping for breath, and it took her a long time to recover.

Is this... is this an illusion? Am I too tired and blurry?
It must be like this.

She trembled, mentally prepared herself, and then she mustered up her courage and slowly, slowly opened the printer cover again.

Inside the cover, it was as clean as new and empty.

Nothing at all.

"call……"

The teacher finally breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the printer, feeling completely exhausted. She chuckled self-deprecatingly. She was clearly too nervous and exhausted. She'd been working overtime for several days for the school competition, so hallucinations were normal.

She raised her hand and rubbed her sore eyes tiredly.

The scene also seemed to become quiet.

Everything is in a peaceful atmosphere.

'Tick-tock'

It's this moment.

The terrifying and weird music began to play.

A twisted, ghostly figure suddenly appeared against the wall next to the printer, without warning and with a ferocious, vision-shattering presence! It was laid bare before every viewer's eyes!

That face was so close, as if it would pop out of the TV in the next second and solve everything completely!
Shila-

The screen instantly cuts to black.

The word "end" emerged coldly.

……

"Ah!!!" The screams of Minamimura Xing, Hase Rozo, and Kitagawa Yao were suddenly heard in Suzuki's classroom.

Even Suzuki Seito and Hashimoto Ichiro, who were standing next to them, tightly grasped the can, squeezing the aluminum can flat, causing the beer to spill out.

Obviously, they were both shocked!

Hiroshi Nohara leaned on the sofa in the classroom, calmly looking at a group of colleagues who were frightened out of their wits, with an imperceptible curve at the corner of his mouth.

Jumpscare.

In the past, when horror films had become extremely involuted, this simple and crude way of scaring people had long been overused and even disdained by many veteran horror fans.

But here, in this parallel world, in the early 1990s Neon, this was a decisive blow that could be called a dimensionality reduction strike!

People of this era are accustomed to a gradual buildup of tension, to the horrific truth being revealed only at the end of the story. They are like infantrymen who have never seen heavy artillery, still stuck in the logic of war where soldiers are shot in formation.

Hiroshi Nohara mercilessly fired a Katyusha rocket from the future directly into their faces.

What’s even more amazing is that he perfectly combines this most primitive kind of fear with the most modern “office horror”.

Printers and copiers, these office equipment that became popular in Japanese workplaces in the 90s, are the most familiar and most frequently complained about partners of every urban white-collar worker.

Paper jams, out of ink, unexplained glitches... these everyday annoyances take on a whole new, chilling meaning in the episode "Paper."

Starting from tonight, every overtime worker who hears the unusual noise of the printer in the office late at night will probably subconsciously think of the ghost face stuck on the glass plate, and will feel a hint of hesitation and fear from the depths of his soul when reaching out to lift the cover.

He wasn't just telling a ghost story.

He is creating a new "urban disease", a contagious psychological virus called "Dark Zhiju".

This is his greatest weapon as a time traveler.

He looked out the window at the night sky, which was like black velvet and dotted with countless lights, and a sense of pride welled up in his heart.

Under this night sky, countless people are trembling because of the stories he wrote.

And this is just the beginning.

(End of this chapter)