I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema!

Nancun Xing and Chang Gu Lu Zou hugged each other like two crazy people, shouting and jumping.

Beichuan Yao cried with joy, her tears were like beads that had broken off the string and she couldn't stop them.

Suzuki Seito looked at the number and felt like his heart was about to jump out of his chest. He was so excited that he was shaking all over. He turned around and grabbed Nohara Hiroshi's shoulders tightly, tears streaming down his old face.

"Nohara-kun...we...we did it! We really did it!"

Finally, a relaxed smile came from the heart on Nohara Hiroshi's face.

He knew that the snowball had started rolling.

For late night and early morning slots, generally speaking, reaching 2% is considered qualified, and it can be said that the program is a success.

But unexpectedly, the result he got today was a 2.98% viewership rating!

It can almost be said that it is a huge hit!

That's right.

For those prime time slots after 10 o'clock in the evening, a viewership rating of 10% is considered acceptable. It can even be said that if it is lower than %, it is a failure.

But Nohara Hiroshi knew clearly.

I am not a prime-time show.

But it was the worst, worst, worst early morning show!

Most of the programs are actually just thrown in randomly for young directors to test the waters and increase their qualifications.

It doesn't matter at all.

Therefore, for most programs in this time slot, a viewership rating of 2.5% is already very good.

But now, their ratings have reached 2.98%, just 0.02% away from 3%.

It even matches the ratings requirements of the late night show around 11 o'clock.

suffice it to say.

Their "Anzhiju" is really popular!

……

In Masao Iwata's office, the air seemed to have condensed into a block of cold lead.

The room, which was filled with flattery and happiness yesterday, was now so silent that one could only hear the monotonous and oppressive sound of air coming from the central air-conditioning vents.

Several followers who were usually the best at flattery now lowered their heads and shrunk their necks, like a group of quails shivering in the cold wind, not even daring to breathe.

Their eyes subconsciously avoided the face behind the desk that was so gloomy that it seemed like water could drip out.

Masao Iwata stared intently at the ratings report on the computer screen that had just been printed out by his confidant. The number "2.98%" on it was like a red-hot iron, burning his pupils and making his eye sockets hurt.

How can it be?

How can this be? !

A rubbish slide show with an investment of less than 100,000 yen per episode, in a dead time slot that was regarded as a garbage dump by everyone, got the ratings that even he himself dreamed of?

This is illogical, unscientific, and a blatant challenge to all his knowledge and experience gained from more than a decade of immersion in the television industry!

"Snapped!"

He finally couldn't help it, grabbed the crystal ashtray on the table, and slammed it hard on the floor covered with expensive Persian carpet, making a dull loud noise.

The followers were so frightened that they trembled all over and lowered their heads even lower.

"Are you all mute?" Iwata Masao's voice seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, with an uncontrollable violence. "Weren't you speaking so clearly and logically yesterday? You said they were garbage, a joke, and a disgrace to the TV station! And now? This shame has made all of your faces slap!"

No one dared to answer.

Because their faces really hurt.

At this moment, the internal dedicated phone on the desk rang sharply.

"Jingle Bell--"

At this moment, the ringing sounded like a death knell.

Masao Iwata's body stiffened noticeably. He looked at the phone that kept flashing red light, and a hint of fear flashed in his eyes.

But he knew that he had to answer this call.

He took a deep breath, forced himself to suppress the rage and panic in his heart, picked up the microphone, and his voice instantly became humble and respectful.

"Deputy Director Takada, it's me, Masao."

"Come to my office, now."

The voice on the other end of the phone was cold, brief, and without a trace of emotion, and then he hung up.

Masao Iwata held the microphone, listening to the busy tone, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

He slowly put down the phone, straightened his somewhat messy tie, stood up, and walked out of the office without a word. His back as he left was stiff and heavy, as if he were heading to the execution ground.

The suffocating pressure didn't ease until the office door was gently closed.

Only then did the followers dare to raise their heads and exchange frightened glances with each other.

"It's over... I'm afraid the section chief will be scolded by the deputy director this time." The first person to speak was the confidant named An Ren. He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and there was a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Who said it wasn't..." Another younger assistant lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard. "That 2.98% viewership rating is simply cheating! When I first saw it last night, I thought the statistics intern had misplaced the decimal point! How is that possible? It was : in the morning!"

"Statistical error? Don't be ridiculous." A bespectacled, older-looking planner shook his head and said with a wry smile, "This is TV Tokyo, not some third-rate local station. Our ratings statistics system is the best in Japan, accurate to two decimal places, and has never made a mistake in twenty years. Numbers don't lie."

His words silenced everyone.

Yes, numbers don’t lie, what lies behind it is their own arrogance and prejudice.

"To be honest..." An Ren hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help but say, "I...I secretly took a look at the third episode of 'Anzhiju' last night...the one called 'Family Instructions'."

As soon as he said this, everyone's eyes were focused on him.

"How is it?" someone couldn't help but ask.

An Ren swallowed, a look of fear crossing his face. "Damn it... don't mention it. I couldn't sleep well all night. Just that atmosphere, that last look... every time I close my eyes now, I feel like a pale smiling face is staring at me. Even though the production is a bit crude, but... but that thing, it was really fucking scary."

His words caused a gasp in the office.

They are all insiders in the industry and know very well what it means to create a work that scares their peers.

"It seems... that old guy Suzuki has found a treasure this time." Someone murmured to himself.

A subtle atmosphere began to spread quietly in Iwata's classroom. It was a mixture of jealousy, resentment, curiosity, and even a hint of... awe.

They decided that tonight, no matter what, they would see with their own eyes what kind of devil this miracle-working "Anzhiju" was.

Chapter 26 Undercurrent surging

In Toshihide Takada's office, the expensive sandalwood desk is shiny and the huge floor-to-ceiling windows offer the bustling cityscape of Tokyo, but none of this can dispel the biting cold in the room.

Masao Iwata stood in front of his desk with his head down, like an elementary school student who had made a mistake, not even daring to breathe.

Toshihide Takada did not sit down. He put his hands behind his back and paced back and forth in front of Masao Iwata. Every step seemed to be stepping on Iwata's heart.

"waste!"

Finally, Takada Toshihide stopped and uttered these two words. The sound was not loud, but it was like two heavy hammers, hitting Iwata Masao's self-esteem hard.

"I asked you to suppress Suzuki, to crush him, and what happened? What did you get back? A 2.98% viewership rating! A ratings miracle for a late-night show! Masao Iwata, are you using this method to show me your incompetence?!"

"Deputy Director, I..." Masao Iwata wanted to explain, but was blocked by Takada Toshihide's cold eyes.

"Do you know what this 2.98% means?" Takada Toshihide's face turned pale. He walked to the desk, picked up a report, and threw it hard in front of Iwata Masao.

"Look carefully! This is not only the highest first-week ratings record for Tokyo TV since we started the early morning slot! This is also the highest ratings for all seven TV stations in Tokyo during the same time slot last night! The highest! Do you understand?!"

boom!

Iwata Masao's mind buzzed and went blank.

He...he only knew that 2.98% was very high, but he didn't know it was this high!

Throughout the late night in Tokyo, the "slide" that he regarded as trash actually defeated all opponents and became the true king!

A bone-chilling chill shot up from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. He panicked, and this time, he was truly panicked.

"You know, Suzuki Seito is from Kanto TV!" Takada Toshihide's voice was filled with anger. He glared at Iwata Masao and said, "That Asumi guy is also from Kanto TV! They are related to each other! Do you want them to unite and defeat us, who are known to the entire Tokyo TV station as having a close relationship?!"

Masao Iwata's body began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.

He knew that this matter had escalated from a simple project competition to a factional struggle. And he was the foolish pawn in this struggle, putting his own side in a passive position.

"Tell me! Why is this happening?" Takada Shunying slammed the table and stared at him intently: "You said it very well before!"

"I... I don't know... I thought..." Masao Iwata's voice trembled.

"You think?!" Takada Shunei sneered. "I'm telling you, from now on, put away your arrogant ideas! I don't care what method you use, your 'Kimi no Sasuke' will be broadcast next Monday, and it must surpass this number! Do you have the confidence?!"

"Yes! Yes! Deputy Director, please rest assured!"

Iwata Masao seemed to have grasped at a last straw, nodding and bowing as he assured, "My 'Kimi no Sasuke' is a superbly produced show, with a top-notch production team, and it's in a prime time slot at 3 p.m.! I'm confident it'll break % in the ratings! I'll definitely... definitely be able to crush that old bastard Suzuki Seito!"

He is really confident.

After all, a professional team was hired to produce the script, including the animation. Not only is the picture quality exquisite, but the characters are also portrayed in a very full manner.

Otherwise, how could Masao Iwata be so crazy?

Takada Shunying stared at him intently for a long while before slowly sitting back in his chair. He waved his hand in an extremely tired tone, "Go away. Remember what you said today. If you can't do it, I will let you know what cruelty is."

"Yes! Yes! I understand!"

Masao Iwata felt as if he had been pardoned and crawled out of the office.

It was not until he walked out of the heavy door that he realized that the back of his expensive suit was already soaked with cold sweat.

……

In stark contrast to the cold and depressing office of Takada Toshihide, on the other side of the TV station building, the office of another deputy director, Asumi, is warm and cheerful.

Ai Takeshita sat elegantly on the sofa, holding a cup of steaming Uji matcha, with a faint smile on her face.

Across from her sat a middle-aged man who looked to be in his forties. He was dressed in a well-fitting dark grey suit, with an elegant face, a calm demeanor, and eyes as deep as ancient wells. He was none other than Asumi, another deputy director of the Tokyo TV production department.

"2.98%," Asumi put down the ratings report in his hand, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips: "Takeshita, you have given me a big gift this time."