I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema!

Then he turned around and walked into the apartment without looking back.

Only Ichiro Gaiya, Ken Yamada, and Shigeru Tanaka were left standing there blankly like three weathered stone statues, with expressions of disbelief and astonishment written all over their faces.

He...he just...left like that?

They prepared a lot of threats and inducements, they prepared countless negotiation techniques, and they even thought of the location of the celebration party.

But they never expected that the other party was not even interested in sitting down and talking with them.

The humiliation of being completely ignored was like a basin of ice water poured over their heads, cooling down the heat in their hearts caused by their covetousness.

"Bastard... this kid from Tokyo..."

Ichiro clenched his fists tightly, and his face, which was full of smiles just now, was now distorted beyond recognition. He looked at the cold, long-closed apartment door, and his eyes were like a wild dog that had been deprived of all its food, leaving only endless resentment and madness.

"Too arrogant! You're simply looking down on everyone!" Yamada Kenye was so angry that he was shaking all over. He crumpled the business card in his hand into a ball, threw it on the ground, and then stomped on it a few times with his shiny leather shoes.

"Alas!" Only Tanaka Shigeru let out a breath, and in that breath was a sense of helplessness that came from facing the reality.

"never mind."

He shook his head, and for the first time, a hint of bitterness appeared on his always smiling face. "It seems that he is determined to hang himself on that big tree. In his eyes, we local stations are not even qualified to be spare tires."

As he spoke, he glanced at his two colleagues who were still immersed in anger and resentment, and suggested in an almost self-deprecating tone:

"Let's go, both of you. Since we can't summon a god, let's not embarrass ourselves here. I know there's a good izakaya nearby, why don't we... go have a drink?"

……

In the izakaya, the lights were dim and the air was filled with the aroma of grilled skewers and the mellowness of sake.

After a few glasses of spicy soju, the suppressed anger finally found an outlet.

"Damn it! I'm so mad!"

Ichiro's flushed face looked a bit ferocious due to the alcohol. "That Nohara Hiroshi, who the hell is he?! He just got lucky and got a decent TV series! Why is he so arrogant?! Why does he look down on us?!"

"That's right!" Yamada Kenya was a little drunk. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his floral shirt, revealing his slightly sagging chest. His eyes were filled with coldness. "Everyone who comes out of Tokyo TV is the same! Self-righteous and arrogant! They think that just because they have the best resources, they can be the boss forever! Dream on!"

"You two, calm down, calm down."

Tanaka Shigeru filled their glasses with wine while smiling and persuading them. In his eyes, narrowed into slits, there was a subtle glint of fox-like cunning.

"Since they won't show us the favor, there's no need for us to hang ourselves on to one tree. Tokyo TV is powerful, but it's not invincible. Nohara Hiroshi is a genius, but he's not a god."

He paused, drank the wine in the glass, and his voice was filled with a hint of cold temptation:

"I have a proposal."

"Since we can't invite him, then let's just... join forces and pull him down from that pedestal!"

"Hmm?" Ichiro Goya and Ken Yamada stopped moving at the same time and looked at him.

"It's very simple." Tanaka Shigeru's lips curled up in a cold arc: "Isn't he good at making 'urban legends'? Then let's do it too!"

"The three of us, Kansai, Chukyo, and Kyushu, are joining together, pooling all our resources, all our elite producers, all our ace screenwriters, to create one, no! Three, brand new urban ghost story shows!"

"I just don't believe that Nohara Hiroshi's brain alone can compare to the collective wisdom of hundreds of elites from our three TV stations!"

"Let's go head-to-head with him in the same time slot, using the same subject matter! We'll use the ratings to tell that clueless brat, and the entire Japanese audience, who is the true king in this field!"

These words were like a spark thrown into boiling oil, instantly igniting the anger that had already been burning in the hearts of Ichiro Goya and Ken Yamada!

"Okay! Just do it!"

Ichiro slapped his thigh, a desperate look of madness emerging from his ferocious face. "Isn't he broadcasting it every week? Then, starting next month, let's broadcast it every week too! If he broadcasts one episode, we'll broadcast three! We'll outnumber him to death!"

"That's right!" Yamada Ken's eyes flashed with a cold light. "Furthermore, we have to poach all his men! I heard that Hashiji Ichiro has been re-employed by him. With a history of betrayal, as long as we offer a high enough price, I don't believe he won't betray us again!"

"And the actors in his crew! That one called Xiao Xunhua, I've checked, she's just a country girl with no background. Send someone to contact her and give her the leading role in a prime-time drama. I don't believe she won't be tempted!"

Under the catalysis of alcohol, conspiracy and calculation quickly wrapped around this small box like wildly growing vines.

These three big men who call the shots in their respective territories, after experiencing common failure and humiliation, finally formed an alliance full of black humor... the Avengers.

They raised their glasses and clinked them together. The crisp sound was like a murderous death knell that sounded in advance for the young man far away in Tokyo.

"For victory!"

"cheers!"

Chapter 95: Director Sakata's Banquet! Matsumoto Keiko's Curiosity

After dealing with the harassers, Hiroshi Nohara carried his briefcase and returned to the apartment where his beloved was.

"I am back!"

"Welcome back!"

Accompanied by a fragrant breeze, a delicate figure came flying over like a young swallow flying into the forest.

Meiya was still wearing the apron with the cute little bear pattern on it, and there were a few drops of crystal water on the ends of her hair. Her pretty face, which always looked a bit cute and naive, now had a helpless yet sweet complaint on it.

"Guangzhi-kun, you're finally back!"

She extended her slender index finger and gently tapped Nohara Hiroshi's chest. Her big, watery eyes were filled with helpless pouting. "You have no idea how many guests came to our house today! The phone is almost blowing up! Some said they were from Nagoya, some from Osaka, and one from Fukuoka. They spoke with such a heavy accent that it took me a while to understand they were all looking for you!"

As she spoke, she stood on tiptoe and helped him unbutton his collar, her posture like a dutiful little wife.

Very virtuous!

Nohara Hiroshi looked at her lovely appearance and felt soft in his heart. He smiled and hugged her in his arms, gently kissing her smooth forehead.

"Thank you for your hard work, my Lady Nohara."

"Hmph, I'm glad to know." Meiya pouted, but the sweet smile in her eyes could not be hidden.

She took his hand and forced him to sit down at the dining table, then brought out some home-cooked dishes from the kitchen like a little squirrel offering treasures.

No French baked snails, no melt-in-your-mouth sago Wagyu beef.

There was only a plate of tamagoyaki that had just been simmered in broth, a bowl of refreshing side dish made with fresh dried fish and grated radish, and a pot of potato stew that was still steaming and exuding a rich aroma of sauce.

Very ordinary and homely.

But the smell that was a mixture of soy sauce, mirin and the aroma of the food itself was like a pair of the most gentle hands, instantly soothing Nohara Hiroshi's fatigue after a day of running around.

This is the taste of home.

After a satisfying meal and vigorous exercise, the two of them snuggled up on the small sofa, watching the boring variety shows on TV, enjoying the tranquility that belonged only to them.

Meiya was like a lazy cat, resting her little head on his legs, holding a fashion magazine in her hand, pretending to flip through it casually, but her beautiful big eyes would secretly glance at him from time to time, and her eyes seemed to hold a lake full of stars.

She was so beautiful just now.

Now I am still in the afterglow.

Especially when she saw the young, handsome and capable Hiroshi Nohara, who was her boyfriend and future husband.

Meiya has a sense of unrealistic illusion.

It's like a thief in life.

The feeling of having stolen... a beautiful life that doesn't belong to me.

"Hehe." Misaya, who is only 17 years old, laughed secretly.

"Little greedy cat, are you greedy again?" Nohara Hiroshi stretched out his hand and held her tightly in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head that smelled of shampoo, but he was thinking about something in his heart.

That is the bubble economy that the three harassers just mentioned, and the question of whether he can get out of the vortex.

He has a 60-square-meter apartment awarded by Tokyo TV!

"House..." he murmured softly.

On the eve of the ruthless bursting of the bubble economy, an apartment in downtown Tokyo is more like a time bomb about to explode than an asset.

If he can hold on for another two or three years, when the country is in dire straits and housing prices have fallen to cheaper than paper, he will have plenty of opportunities to buy a house that is bigger, better and has a yard with one-tenth or even one-hundredth of the current price.

"Ah, speaking of houses!"

Misae, resting her head in his arms, seemed to have triggered some switch. She sat up straight with excitement in her bright eyes. "Guozhi-kun, I asked the real estate agency today! Our apartment in Setagaya has been put up for sale!"

She bent her slender fingers, like a little money-grubber, and reported proudly:

"The agent said our apartment is in a great location and was awarded by a TV station, so it's a big name and a lot of people are vying for it! He said that at the current market price of 38 yen per square meter, our small 40-square-meter apartment could fetch at least million yen!"

More than 20 million!

This number made Misae's eyes turn into money symbols. She held her face in her hands, her little face full of longing for the future. "Guangzhi-kun, are we really going to sell it? That's a 20 million house! Selling it off would be such a shame, wouldn't it?"

"fool."

Nohara Hiroshi looked at her adorable, money-obsessed appearance and couldn't help but smile and pinch her nose. "Houses are dead, but money is alive. Listen to me, if someone offers you a price of at least 20 million, sell it as soon as possible. We'll save part of the cash and exchange the rest for gold."

"Change it into gold?" Mei Ya's simple little head was instantly filled with countless question marks.

"Yeah." Nohara Hiroshi nodded, but did not explain too much.

He couldn't tell her that within two years, the Japanese yen would experience an unprecedented plunge, and gold would become the strongest hard currency in the world, right?

"Just listen to me, you won't go wrong." He just ruffled her hair with unquestionable tenderness.

"Oh... okay." Although Mei Ya was still a little confused, she had already developed an almost blind trust in her omnipotent man.

She nodded obediently, like a kitten whose fur had been smoothed by its owner, and snuggled back into his arms.

However, after a while, she seemed to remember something, and a hint of anticipation appeared in her beautiful big eyes again.

"Um... Hiroshi-kun." Her voice was as thin as a mosquito, with a hint of tentativeness: "Once the house is sold, can I... go out to work? I don't want to stay at home all the time. I feel so useless."

"Wait another two years." Nohara Hiroshi answered almost without thinking.

Of course, he couldn't tell her that two years later, the economic crisis would break out, countless businesses would go bankrupt, and the unemployment rate would soar. By then, a stable job would become more precious than gold.

He didn't want her to experience the pain of the times.

He just wanted her to be like this forever, carefree, and be the only one responsible for being beautiful Mrs. Nohara.

"Oh..." Meiya pouted. Although she was a little disappointed, she didn't insist.

'Beep! Beep!'

At this moment, a rapid electronic alert sound came from the pager that Hiroshi Nohara placed on the coffee table, breaking the warm tranquility.

He picked up the small black square and glanced at the unfamiliar number and the short message displayed on the screen. His eyes, which always held a hint of a smile, narrowed slightly in an instant: "Hmm? What is this!?"