Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 166 Reaching the Top! Professor's Inauguration and Ratings Surpassing Others

Chapter 166 Reaching the Top! Professor's Inauguration and Ratings Surpassing Others

Koganei City, Tokyo.

Here, there is no bustling activity like in the port area, only vast stretches of well-preserved mixed forest and quiet streets. Autumn leaves carpet the road, rustling softly underfoot.

Following the address given by Ota, Kitahara Shin entered a white building covered in ivy.

This is the place that later became known as Studio Ghibli.

While Studio Ghibli has established itself in the industry with works like "My Neighbor Totoro" and "Kiki's Delivery Service," it hasn't yet reached the level of being considered a "god." The studio is filled with sketches, paint buckets, and unfinished coffee, and the air is thick with the smell of pencil shavings and the distinctive odor of working late into the night.

An elderly man wearing a white apron, with a full head of white hair but still full of energy, was sitting by the window, holding a paintbrush in his hand, his brows furrowed.

Hayao Miyazaki.

Hearing footsteps, the old man looked up and sized up the person through his thick glasses.

Hayao Miyazaki: "Oh, you've arrived."

He put down his paintbrush, his tone slightly teasing: "I thought you'd be late or just cancel. After all, Kitahara-san is a huge star right now; the news is all about you on TV. If I only sent the invitation now, I doubt I'd even get to see your manager, right?"

Kitahara Shin smiled, stepped forward, and bowed slightly.

Kitahara Shin: "Mr. Miyazaki, you're too kind. Whether I'm famous or not, I'll come whenever you invite me. Your animations have a special meaning for me."

This is not just polite talk.

As a time traveler, he knew very well what kind of storm this old man would unleash on the world film scene in the next twenty years. The still-unreleased "Spirited Away" would propel Japanese animation to the Oscars. Adding "voice acting for a Miyazaki Hayao anime" to his resume was a huge asset in itself.

Hayao Miyazaki snorted, seemingly unimpressed by the compliment, but his expression softened considerably.

Hayao Miyazaki: "You've probably seen the script by Ota, right? It's a story about a pig. You didn't mind that the character is ugly, did you?"

Kitahara Shin: "How could that be? I think Porco Rosso is cool. That carefree attitude of 'a pig that can't fly is just an ordinary pig' is a state many men can never achieve in their entire lives."

Hayao Miyazaki paused for a moment, then smiled.

Hayao Miyazaki: "Looks like you understand. I told you my judgment wouldn't be wrong."

Kitahara Shin: "Regarding voice acting, is there anything I need to pay special attention to? For example, does the voice need to be a bit exaggerated?" Miyazaki Hayao waved his hand, interrupting him.

Hayao Miyazaki: "No need. I've seen your films; the way you spoke in a low voice in 'The White Tower' was great. What I want is that feeling of a middle-aged man who, even after turning into a pig, still has the soul of a weathered soul. Just bring it to me; I trust your acting skills."

Faced with such direct trust from this animation master, Kitahara Shin was a little embarrassed.

Since they've been so kind to me, I'll naturally put my utmost effort into this dubbing job.

Hayao Miyazaki: "The script is on that table over there. Take it back and familiarize yourself with it. Recording will officially begin next Monday."

Kitahara Shin nodded and picked up the script.

However, he was not in a hurry to leave.

Kitahara Shin: "Um, Mr. Miyazaki, may I visit the studio? I've always been quite curious about the animation production process."

Hayao Miyazaki picked up his paintbrush again and said without turning his head:

Hayao Miyazaki: "Take your time looking. Just don't disturb everyone's work."

Kitahara Shin took the script and walked out of the director's office.

Inside the large studio outside, dozens of artists were hunched over their work. No one looked up at him; everyone was frantically wielding their paintbrushes, chased by the monster known as the "deadline."

Kitahara Shin slowed his pace, his gaze sweeping over the mountain of original drawings.

Sudden.

His gaze lingered on an inconspicuous corner.

There was a huge wastebasket, crammed full of crumpled drafts. And on the floor next to the wastebasket lay a dip pen that looked very old, with the paint worn off the barrel.

The pen emitted a faint blue light that only he could see.

Kitahara Shin:

Sometimes he really wondered if the system had some kind of scavenging fetish. Last time it was scavenging for lighters at a flea market, this time it was picking up pens right next to a garbage dump.

He walked over and, when no one was looking, bent down and picked up the pen.

The nib is split; it definitely looks like a scrap.

[Mind-Bound Equipment: The Dream Weaver's Discarded Paintbrush (Blue)]

[Type: Tools/Assistance]

[Description: This pen was used for thousands of hours by a top animation master, imbuing it with a strong creative passion.]

[Equipment Effect: Image Imaging. When the user holds this pen (or mental device) to draw, the image in their mind can be faithfully reproduced on paper to a great extent, reducing the error of "the hand not keeping up with the mind."]

[Negative Effect/Limitation: The aesthetics of the artwork depend entirely on the user's aesthetic limits. If the image in your mind is a pile of shit, then what it draws will be a perfect pile of shit.]

Kitahara Shin raised an eyebrow.

This is interesting. Although he can't draw, storyboarding is a must for an actor or a future director. With this, when communicating with the cinematographer about shots, drawing directly is obviously much more efficient than gesturing for ages.

"Included".

With a slight thought, the broken pen disappeared from his palm and entered the system's equipment slot.

After collecting the equipment, Kitahara Nobuhiro was in high spirits.

He looked at the pale-faced, dark-circled artists around him, thought for a moment, and then took out his phone to call Da Tian.

Half an hour later.

Several food delivery motorcycles stopped in front of Jixiali's door.

The high-end sushi from a famous sushi restaurant in Tokyo's Tsukiji Market, along with a long-established eel rice restaurant nearby, are neatly arranged on long tables in the rest area.

The aroma instantly overpowered the smell of pencils in the studio.

"Thank you all for your hard work! I am Kitahara Shin. I will be bothering you all for the next few days. This is a small token of my appreciation. Please have a simple meal with me."

Kitahara Shin stood by the table, smiling as he greeted everyone.

The artists, who had been engrossed in their work, were drawn by the aroma and looked up like zombies coming back to life. Their eyes lit up when they saw the table full of delicious food.

Being able to enjoy a hot eel rice bowl during this deadline is like heaven.

"Thank you, Kitahara-san!"

"Wow! It's premium eel!"

Without any hesitation, everyone put down their paintbrushes and gathered around.

Kitahara Shin didn't linger. Seeing everyone start eating, he quietly slipped out.

Before leaving, he said goodbye to Hayao Miyazaki.

After he left, Miyazaki Hayao walked out of his office and looked at the group of employees outside who were eating with greasy mouths and whose work efficiency had obviously dropped. He couldn't help but shake his head, but a smile remained on his lips.

Hayao Miyazaki: "This kid—if he worked under me and dared to disrupt morale like this, I would definitely give him a good scolding."

He picked up a piece of sushi and stuffed it into his mouth.

"However—she does know how to get along with people."

Late November.

The battle on the television screen has reached its decisive moment.

TBS television network has aired the seventh episode of "Hot-Blooded Detective".

This drama originally had an extremely luxurious start—Takuya Kimura's good looks, Johnny's resources, and the likable "hot-blooded policeman" setting.

But as the plot progresses, problems begin to surface.

In an effort to create conflict, the screenwriter forcibly turned the protagonist's superior into the final villain. While this "dark secrets within the Metropolitan Police Department" trope is classic, it can become extremely clichéd and stereotypical if not handled well.

Takuya Kimura works very hard.

He roared in the play, ran in the rain, and his eyes were filled with righteous anger.

But perhaps because he wanted to win too much and wanted to project that "pressure," his performance began to show signs of being overdone. Every movement seemed meticulously designed to be cool, and every line sounded like a shout from a shonen manga.

This kind of "exaggeration" might be overlooked by the audience's filter in normal times.

Unfortunately, at the same time, a monster called "The White Tower" was being broadcast next door.

Thursday night, 10 p.m.

Fuji Television, The White Tower, Episode 8.

Plot: Goro Zaizen is elected as a professor.

After a long process of campaigning, bribery, and power struggles, Goro Zaizen finally defeated Kikukawa and ascended to the position of Professor of the First Department of Surgery at Naniwa University.

The climax of this episode wasn't the moment the results were announced.

Instead, it happened the next morning.

The famous "final follow-up visit".

The camera was shot from a low angle, looking upwards.

At the end of the corridor, the door slowly opened.

Shin Kitahara, who plays Goro Zaizen, comes out.

He changed into a brand new white lab coat, buttoned up meticulously, and his hair was slicked back and polished. He stood with his hands behind his back, his chin slightly raised, and his eyes held an air of arrogant confidence that seemed to rule the world.

Behind him.

Associate Professor, Lecturer, Director of Medical Bureau, Attending Physician, Resident Physician, Training Physician —

Dozens of doctors were arranged in a huge triangular formation according to a strict rank order.

No one speaks.

Only the sound of synchronized footsteps could be heard.

"Da, da, da, da."

The sound was like a war drum, striking the heartbeats of every audience member.

As Goro Zaizen walked, nurses and patients on both sides of the corridor made way for him and bowed.

At this moment, he is the god of this white tower.

in front of the TV.

Countless viewers held their breath. They watched the man on the screen and felt a surge of exhilaration that shot from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads.

This is the taste of power.

This is the view you'd climb even if it meant selling your soul.

At that moment, justice and morality were all thrown to the back of their minds. The audience just wanted to see this man keep winning.

The viewership ratings report is out:

The White Tower, Episode 8: 28.1%.

Episode 7 of "Hot-Blooded Detective": 21.4%.

The gap has widened to nearly 7 percentage points.

They officially overtook him.

This was a complete and utter victory.

The social impact came faster than expected.

The next day, in an office building in Otemachi, Tokyo.

A peculiar phenomenon has emerged in many companies' morning meetings.

Those department heads and section chiefs who usually walked slowly suddenly started imitating Goro Zaizen's gait. Hands behind his back, chest out, head held high, followed by a large group of subordinates.

The "final check-up" style of inspection became the most popular scene in Japanese workplaces that winter.

Even when going to the restroom, if there are two people following behind, they have to walk with an aura of "I'm going to have a tumor removed".

Roppongi, Johnny & Associates.

"Snapped!"

A beautiful bone china teacup was smashed to the ground, shattering into pieces.

Mary Kitagawa stared at the ratings comparison chart on the table, her chest heaving.

Lost.

Moreover, they lost without being able to find any excuse.

She used all her resources, bought countless press releases, and even had Takuya Kimura run around like a salesman.

The results of it?

The audience still chose the "bad guy".

Why————

Mary gritted her teeth, her voice filled with resentment: "Why should the audience watch a scoundrel who bribes and schemes win? Where is justice? Why did this morally bankrupt drama pass censorship?"

The assistant standing beside him kept his head down, not daring to speak.

Actually, everyone knows the truth.

In this society of economic depression and rigid class divisions, slogans of justice seem too pale. The ruthless determination of Goro Zaizen—the willingness to do anything to win—is the most secret aphrodisiac in the hearts of all wage slaves.

They can't do the financial stuff, so they crave to see if they can win the financial stuff.

Meanwhile, in a radio broadcast studio in Tokyo.

Takuya Kimura is wearing headphones and recording his personal radio program, "What's Up SMAP".

Although his agency was furious and ordered a complete blackout regarding "The White Tower," Takuya Kimura smiled as he looked at a listener's letter in his hand.

The letter was from a fan asking him if he had watched the show on the other channel.

Kimura did not evade the issue, nor did he follow the company's press release to denigrate his competitors.

He leaned closer to the microphone, his voice a little hoarse but very honest: "Ah—The White Tower? I've been watching it."

"In yesterday's episode, the scene where Dr. Zaizen walks—"

He paused, then said with a genuine admiration, "So cool. Really. That aura, it even shocked me through the screen. I tried to imitate it at home, and my mom, who doesn't watch much TV, saw it and asked if my back hurt."

"Ha ha ha ha."

He started laughing first, and that hearty laughter was transmitted through the airwaves to the ears of countless listeners.

"A loss is a loss. Ratings don't lie."

"but----"

Kimura's smile faded, his eyes hardening: "Although I lost to Kitahara-san this time, I don't think this is the end. To me, Kitahara-san, although he's about the same age as me, is definitely my senior in acting."

"I will keep working hard. Next time—next time I must win back in front of the camera, fair and square."

These words not only didn't cause him to lose fans, but actually turned many casual viewers who were disappointed in him due to declining ratings into fans.

This is the vision of Takuya Kimura.

That's also why he's destined to become the king of Japanese dramas for the next twenty years.

However, what Kimura didn't know was...

If we really count the time he joined the industry, he joined Johnny's in 1987, so he was actually Kitahara Shin's "senior" who started playing minor roles in 1988.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

In the face of strength, seniority is just a pale number.

At this moment, standing atop that white tower, Kitahara Shin had truly established his dominant position as the "Number One Acting Actor of the Heisei Era."

A secluded Japanese garden in Setagaya Ward, Tokyo.

The TV volume was turned very low.

There is no outside noise here, only the crisp sound of a startled deer striking a stone bowl.

A woman dressed in a plain-colored kimono is kneeling on the tatami mat, holding a cup of warm sencha in her hands.

Time seemed exceptionally kind to her, leaving few traces on her face, instead imbuing her with a dignified and profound beauty that commanded respect. She was a relic of the Showa era, an "eternal goddess" in the hearts of countless people, and a woman who held numerous titles—

The legend of Sayuri Yoshinaga, winner of the Japan Academy Film Prize for Best Actress.

At this moment, her eyes, which had seen it all, were fixed on the television screen.

On the screen, Goro Zaizen is walking down a long corridor with his hands behind his back, leading dozens of doctors.

That look in his eyes.

That look in his eyes, so arrogant yet seemingly burdened with a massive cross.

Sayuri Yoshinaga put down her teacup.

She originally just wanted to see what kind of newcomer who caused such a sensation this week was, but she never expected that once she saw him, she would never be able to take her eyes off him again.

"—What a beautiful beast."

She sighed softly, her tone carrying a hint of long-lost excitement.

Having been in this industry for a long time, I've become accustomed to those puppets who can only recite lines, and also to those so-called "geniuses" packaged by agencies.

But an actor like Kitahara Shin, who exudes an aggressive aura that seems to "devour the camera," yet can also control this wildness with ease—

That's so rare.

It's rare to see such a "Best Actress" who's semi-retired and extremely picky about scripts, and even she feels a little itchy.

"Yamamoto."

She called out.

The manager, who had been kneeling outside the door, immediately opened it and entered, her attitude as respectful as if she were addressing royalty: "Yes, Mr. Yoshinaga. Is there anything I can do for you?"

Sayuri Yoshinaga pointed to the man being shown in close-up on the TV screen: "Help me contact Kitahara Shin's agency."

The agent paused, glanced up at the television, and asked, somewhat puzzled, "Kitahara Shin? Is that the actor from the really popular drama lately? Are we sending him a flower basket to congratulate him on the high ratings?"

Yoshinaga Sayuri shook her head.

She turned around, looked at her agent, and gave a graceful yet firm smile: "No."

"I wanted to act with him."

"Help me ask around, if there's a suitable script. Movie or TV series, it doesn't matter—I want to stand opposite him and personally test just how sharp this beast's teeth really are."

"6

The agent was completely dumbfounded.

He blinked, as if he had heard something out of the blue.

You have to understand, this is a national treasure-level actress! Usually, many big directors would line up at her door with scripts and beg her to even glance at them, but now she's actually taking the initiative to ask to work with a young, up-and-coming actor?

"Teacher—are you serious?"

The agent swallowed hard, then cautiously confirmed, "Although he's very popular now, he still lacks experience—"

"Qualifications?"

Yoshinaga Sayuri chuckled softly, picked up her teacup again, and looked back at the man's back on the screen: "In the face of a true monster, seniority is the most useless thing."

"Go ahead and do it. I'm serious."

The agent took a deep breath and nodded heavily.

"Yes! I'll contact them first thing tomorrow morning!"

The door closed again.

The courtyard returned to silence.

Only the faint light from the television set illuminated the "evenly matched" gleam in the eyes of the actress.

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