Mid-July in Tokyo, the air was stiflingly hot and humid, as if even the wind carried a sticky summer heat.
However, inside the TV Tokyo Headquarters Building in Minato Ward, the atmosphere was ten times more fervent than the weather outside.
Recently, by exclusively importing the Hong Kong Island hit drama The Greed of Men and pairing it with a cleverly designed in-depth financial analysis program, TV Tokyo had completely carved out a path through the late-night time slot, firmly securing the Iron Throne of viewership ratings.
The rating reports were breaking new records every day, and the phones in the Advertising Department rang incessantly from morning till night, sounding like a death knell.
Executives from major financial institutions and securities firms, who usually held themselves above everyone else, were now setting aside their pride. They were waving their checkbooks, fighting tooth and nail to snatch up the mid-roll advertising slots for The Greed of Men.
Some wealthy investors even contacted the station privately, offering huge sums of money to fly the lead actors, Adam Cheng and Vivian Chow, to Tokyo for a special interview program. Of course, they would also fully sponsor all the advertising for the show.
The audience's enthusiasm was nothing short of staggering. The station's customer service lines were ringing off the hook every day, with callers demanding weekend reruns or urgently calling for the immediate release of a LaserDisc box set.
Nakagawa Jun had been strutting around the station these past few days, his stride full of confidence and vigor. Even his usually stern, unsmiling face now bore a permanent, ear-to-ear grin.
Weekend evening, Shinjuku Ward.
Inside an upscale Wagyu yakiniku restaurant tucked away in a deep alley, the charcoal glowed a fiery red, crackling softly.
Takuya Nakayama had shed his impeccably tailored suit jacket, wearing only a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly.
With practiced ease, he used tongs to lift a piece of top-grade skirt steak, its marbling as intricate as a work of art, and laid it flat on the grill.
The rich fat hit the searingly hot grate, instantly sizzling with an irresistible sound. A dense, savory aroma of roasting meat billowed up with white smoke, only to be swiftly whisked away by the powerful exhaust vent above.
"Flip it! Flip it now! The edges are burning!" Eri, sitting opposite him, stared intently at the meat, her voice sharp with the urgency of a protective kitten guarding its food.
With a flick of his wrist, Takuya Nakayama flipped the beef in one smooth motion. After searing it for a few more seconds, he transferred it to the bone china plate in front of Eri.
"It's cooked perfectly. Try it with a bit of sea salt," Takuya said, his voice gentle and his eyes full of affection. "Eat up. You've been working hard at home with those two little monsters all this time."
Ever since the birth of their second child, Miki, Eri had devoted most of her energy to the household. Six-year-old Kazuki was at his most mischievous and troublesome age, while one-year-old Miki was a complete "brother-obsessed" type, clinging to Kazuki constantly. Together, the two of them could turn the house upside down every day, their combined energy rivaling that of two little monsters.
It was a rare weekend, and Takuya had specially sent the children back to the family home for his mother, Miyuki, to look after. His mother, who usually enjoyed gardening, was overjoyed to have her grandchildren with her and had enthusiastically granted the couple a break.
Without the two little bundles of chaos, Takuya and Eri finally enjoyed some long-overdue alone time. At the next table, two exhausted salarymen had loosened their ties and were engaged in a heated conversation, fueled by the several empty beer bottles scattered before them.
"Did you see last night's episode? That final showdown between Fong Chin-pok and Ting Hai at the stock exchange was absolutely legendary! My palms were sweating the whole time!"
"How could I miss it? My wife usually falls asleep the moment I mention stocks, but last night she actually stayed up with me until one in the morning. This morning, while making breakfast, she asked me with a completely straight face if we should take our savings and buy some Nikkei Futures!"
"Don't do anything rash! Didn't you see the deep-dive analysis from the experts on TV? The current situation is identical to what's playing out in the drama. Southeast Asia is a complete mess, and the Thai Baht has crashed like a piece of scrap paper. If ordinary people like us rush into the market now, we're just cannon fodder for the big capital sharks!"
"Sigh, you're right. TV Tokyo's strategy is brilliant. They scare us with the drama on one hand, then seamlessly transition into financial management ads. I walked past the Nomura Securities branch this afternoon, and man, the place was packed with people who'd been spooked into lining up to open accounts and buy hedge funds!"
Listening to the uninhibited conversation at the next table, Eri took a sip of her chilled oolong tea, a sly smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice with a teasing lilt. "Hear that? Everyone's praising your dad's TV station. As the mastermind pulling the strings from the shadows, you must be feeling pretty smug right now, huh?"
Takuya Nakayama set down his chopsticks, picked up a crisp white napkin, and deliberately wiped his hands.
He feigned a stern expression, leaning back against the chair as his gaze turned deep and cold.
Then, he raised his right hand, pressing his index and middle fingers together to push up his glasses in a classic anime gesture—even though he wasn't wearing any.
"Hmph. Mere viewership ratings," Takuya drawled, his voice dropping into the sinister tone of a final anime boss. "All within my perfect calculations. Tremble, foolish mortals, before the tidal wave of capital!"
Eri froze for a moment before bursting into laughter. She shook with mirth, tears nearly pricking her eyes.
She reached out and lightly tapped the back of Takuya's hand on the table, giving him a playful, reproachful glare. "You... You're a distinguished Executive Managing Director at Sega, a father of two at home, yet you're still acting like you're in college, letting your chuunibyou flare up at the drop of a hat."
Takuya Nakayama took advantage of the moment, turning his hand over to clasp her smooth fingers and gently squeezing them. The cool facade on his face instantly crumbled, replaced by a warm smile. "No matter what my title is out there," he said, "in front of my wife, I'm always eighteen."
Eri's cheeks flushed. She shyly withdrew her hand and quickly stuffed a piece of grilled beef into her mouth, trying to chew away the grin that was spreading across her face and the sweetness in her eyes.
After finishing their meal, they walked out of the restaurant hand-in-hand, merging into the bustling crowds of Shinjuku.
The early summer evening breeze brushed against their faces, carrying a hint of pleasant ease.
The main event of the night was the movie.
Outside Toho Cinemas, the crowd was so dense it was nearly impassable. A visually striking, giant poster was plastered on the most prominent spot, covering half a wall.
The poster depicted a short-haired girl with red war paint on her face. Her gaze was as fierce as a wolf's as she rode a massive white wolf god, clutching a sharp spear and staring straight ahead into the unknown.
Princess Mononoke.
This was Hayao Miyazaki's latest masterpiece, a project he had poured countless hours of blood, sweat, and tears into after a several-year hiatus. It had just premiered in Japan today.
The pre-release hype had been overwhelming, leaving anime and film fans across Japan with their appetites whetted to the breaking point.
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