I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema!

"Almost, it's time."

A confident arc appeared on Nohara Hiroshi's lips.

"Wonderful Stories of the World" has been a huge success. Next, let's give it a try and try out a variety show project in this neon world. It would be nice!

He put down his coffee cup, picked up the phone on the table, and dialed the internal line of Ming Ri Hai.

"Deputy Director, it's me."

His voice was calm. "Regarding the Super Transformation project, I have some new ideas I'd like to add."

……

Unlike the high-spirited atmosphere in Nohara's classroom, Iwata's classroom was dead silent at this moment.

"Squeak-"

The door of the personnel department was pushed open by an expressionless female employee. She was holding a stack of documents in her hand, and her high heels stepped on the smooth floor, making a crisp and indifferent "tapping" sound, like the death knell, stepping on everyone's heart one by one, accurately.

"Iwata Classroom, 'Anshiba' Season 3 Project Failed, and Penalties Decision Decision for Related Personnel."

She didn't say anything extra, but in a cold, businesslike tone, she placed the documents on everyone's desk one by one, as if handing out death notices.

In the office, the only sound left was the subtle yet extremely harsh rustling sound of papers falling on the table.

Hashijita's body was shaking like a leaf in the wind.

He stretched out his hand tremblingly. The thin A4 paper, which seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, seemed so cold under his fingertips.

His eyes slowly scanned the printed verdict that determined his fate, word by word.

"...After research and discussion by the production team's top management, it has been decided that Hashijitaro, as the executive director with full responsibility for the production of the third season of 'Anshiji', bears an unshirkable and significant responsibility. This has led to the project's reputation collapsing, the ratings plummeting, and an extremely negative impact on the broadcaster..."

"…It has been decided to remove him from his position as deputy section chief and transfer him…back to Kanto Television to serve as…a data organizer in the logistics department."

Tune back to...Kanto TV?

Logistics Department...data organizer?

"boom--!"

This punishment decision was like a thunderclap, striking Hashiji Ichiro's mind fiercely, completely shattering his sanity that had long been occupied by despair and fear!

He stood there in a daze, his empty eyes fixed on the lines of cold black words, as if he wanted to stare through the paper.

Kanto TV!

The place he once tried so hard to escape from!

He betrayed all his colleagues and mentor, including Hiroshi Nohara, in exchange for a position as deputy section chief at Tokyo TV!

Now, he was actually going to be sent back like a piece of trash?!

Or would you rather be a lowly document organizer in the logistics department, a position without even a formal job?!

This is no longer a simple punishment!

This is humiliation! This is exile! This is social death for him!

He could imagine what kind of cold and contemptuous looks he would receive when he dragged his luggage and set foot on that familiar land again.

Those colleagues who had once been close to him, those seniors who had placed high hopes on him, and... that Section Chief Seito Suzuki, whom he had always regarded as his mentor but was betrayed by him...

What will they think of him?

A poor wretch who sold out his master for fame and fortune, only to be kicked out by his new master in the end?

A man who schemed so hard but ended up with nothing, a stray dog?

Do not!

This is not fair!

A madness mixed with humiliation and unwillingness instantly rushed from the soles of his feet to the top of his head!

He suddenly raised his head and snatched the punishment list from his colleague's hand before he could react!

"Iwata Masao is prohibited from being promoted within three years..."

"Deduct half a year's performance bonus from the remaining team members..."

……

The penalty decisions flashed before his eyes quickly.

No firing, no demotion, not even a decent warning!

Masao Iwata, the culprit who was the project manager, was only barred from promotion within three years!

And he, Hashiji Ichiro, the "traitor" who was used as a gun and pushed to the front to take the blame, has to pay the price of his entire life for this!

"Why?! Why?!"

Like a wild beast cornered, he let out a hysterical roar. The sound was sharp and full of despair.

However, in the office, those former "colleagues" just looked at him coldly, as if they were looking at a clown who had nothing to do with them and was performing his final crazy act.

"What are you arguing about? If you did something wrong, you have to bear the consequences."

"Exactly. If you hadn't promised us that, would we have had our bonus deducted for half a year?"

"Get lost now. Seeing you brings bad luck."

The cold words were like poisoned knives, piercing his already broken heart into pieces.

He wanted to make a big scene, smash the office to pieces, and rush to Takada Toshihide to ask him why he was so unfair!

but……

When his mind flashed with the image of his wife's gentle face, always tinged with worry, and the innocent smile of his eight-year-old son, who had just started elementary school...

When he thought about the mortgage and car loan that were like a death warrant every month...

All the madness and anger, at this moment, deflated instantly like a punctured balloon.

Instead, there is boundless despair that is enough to completely devour a person.

"Woo..."

He could no longer hold on. The 35-year-old man squatted on the ground helplessly like a child, buried his head deeply in his arms, and let out a suppressed and painful whimper.

Tears seeped out from between his fingers, dripping onto the cold floor, leaving a small dark stain, like a silently blooming flower of despair.

No one comforted him.

No one paid any attention to him.

He was like a lonely ghost forgotten by the world, tasting the bitterest consequences of betrayal alone.

After a long time, he slowly stood up, wiped his face with his sleeve, and silently packed his few personal belongings one by one into a cardboard box that had been prepared long ago.

Hashiji Ichiro seemed to have adjusted his mentality.

He held the heavy cardboard box that seemed to carry all his failed life, and walked out of the office that made him fall from heaven to hell with heavy steps.

People were coming and going in the corridor.

But no one stopped for him.

No one said goodbye to him.

He was like a transparent ghost, passing through those faces that were once familiar but now so unfamiliar, and finally disappeared behind the cold metal door of the elevator.

A silver, low-end Toyota sedan traverses the Tokyo night.

Outside the car window is the bizarre Ukiyo-e of this city. The dazzling neon lights are like a pair of mocking eyes, staring coldly at this loser who has been abandoned by the city.

Hashijita doesn't want to go home.

He didn't know how to face his wife's worried eyes, nor did he know how to explain to his son why he would no longer have to work in that magnificent building.

He slowly parked the car on a secluded road beside the Sumida River.

A long time has passed.

It lasted so long that the world suddenly became quiet, leaving only the river water tirelessly beating against the cold embankment in the evening breeze.

He leaned over the steering wheel, looking at the dark, bottomless river. The water reflected the lights of the city, but it also looked like an abyss with a bloody mouth, tempting him to jump.

Maybe, if I jump down, I won’t have to think about anything.

There was no mortgage, no car loan, no other people's contempt, and no... the guilt towards his family that was suffocating him.

"Let's end it like this."

'It's all over now.'

As Hashijitaro thought this, his hand uncontrollably reached for the car door handle.

Chapter 88 Neon fever! Mrs. Hashimoto's dogeza!

Nohara Hiroshi's apartment is warm and peaceful.

The soft lighting makes this small apartment look like a secluded and warm haven.

On the dining table, an exquisite bone china plate was filled with freshly fried flounder, which exuded a rich buttery aroma. The fish meat was dotted with a few bright red peppers, and next to it was a small portion of arugula salad dressed with olive oil and sea salt, which was so crispy and tender that it seemed to be dripping with water.

"Mmm! So delicious!" Mei Ya was putting small bites of the fish into her mouth with a silver fork. Her pretty face, which always had a bit of cuteness, was filled with a kind of happiness wrapped in food and love.

"Yeah, the fish is very tender." Nohara Hiroshi chuckled and nodded.

"Hmm... Hiroshi-kun, this lemon butter sauce you made is absolutely amazing!"

Meiya also took another big bite of fish, squinting her eyes in satisfaction, like a cat who had secretly tasted the world's most delicious dried fish. "It's even better than the last time we had it at that high-end French restaurant in Ginza!"

"Eat more if you like it." Nohara Hiroshi smiled and filled her glass with white wine. The clear wine reflected a bright and charming light in the crystal glass.

He was in a good mood.

It's not just because of the ratings report that soared like a rocket, but also because of the tranquility and daily life that is within his reach.

This is the meaning of his struggle.

'Jingle Bell--'

At this moment, a rapid telephone ring came from the corner of the wall, breaking the warm tranquility.