HPDBC Chapter 193 Angel's Bell, the "Side Effect" of a Lucky Player
Chapter 193 Angel's Bell, the "Side Effect" of a Lucky Player
Chapter 193 Angel's Bell, the "Side Effect" of a Lucky Player
Maesaki Beach.
The sun was scorching.
The film crew parked the iconic Volkswagen van on the grass by the roadside. They were filming one of the most heartwarming, yet also the most absurd, scenes in the movie—camping.
Takeshi Kitano sat in the shadows behind the monitor, fanning himself with a tattered palm-leaf fan. His expressionless face was glistening with sweat.
"Ready, Action!"
The camera was pointed at the center of the grass.
There stood a strange creature.
Kitahara Shin was wearing a red, comical bodysuit and a huge, silly-looking octopus headpiece.
He is no longer the arrogant Goro Zaizen from "The White Tower," nor the cold-blooded psychopath who treats murder as art from "Flowers of Evil."
At this moment, he was just a "foolish uncle" who dressed up as a monster to make the little boy laugh.
"I am an octopus alien."
Kitahara Shin lowered his voice and made a funny sound, his hands mimicking tentacles as he waved them wildly in the air.
He took a couple of steps, then deliberately tripped over his own feet with his left, and with a "thud," he fell hard onto the grass, getting a mouthful of dirt. The giant octopus head mask was askew to one side, making him look extremely disheveled.
"Hahaha!"
Sitting opposite him, Yusuke (who plays Masao) couldn't help but laugh out loud.
That wasn't an act.
That was the pure, unadulterated laughter of a child.
In Yusuke's eyes, the adult rolling around, wrestling, and making a fool of himself under the scorching sun was not some big star or company president, but the silly older brother who played marbles with him on the ground in the park and treated him to popsicles when he lost.
"One more time!"
Kitahara Shin got up from the ground, straightened his headgear, and without even brushing the dirt off his body, continued to make comical gestures.
He acted too casually.
He captured that awkwardness, that humble feeling of desperately trying to please the children, just right. He completely abandoned his previous elitist "restrained" acting style, transforming himself into an ordinary, somewhat annoying yet endearing eccentric from the streets.
"Cut! Okay! Passed!"
Takeshi Kitano's voice came through.
Kitahara Shin then stopped and ripped off the sweltering octopus headgear.
Sweat streamed down his hair, and his face was as red as a boiled octopus. He gasped for breath, took the water handed to him by the stagehand, and poured it directly over his head.
Yusuke ran over, handed him a tissue, and said with sparkling eyes, "Brother Xin, you fell really loudly just now!"
"Absolutely."
Kitahara Shin wiped the water off his face and winked at him: "How can I look stupid if I don't speak up?"
Yusuke chuckled again, shaking the gadget in his hand—the "Angel's Bell." The clear sound of the bell mingled with the sound of the waves, carrying far in the summer afternoon.
Break time.
The cicadas' chirping was deafening.
Takeshi Kitano crouched in the shadow of the bread cart, several cigarette butts already scattered at his feet. He looked at Shin Kitahara, who had just taken off his octopus mask and whose hair was plastered to his scalp as if he had just washed it, and couldn't help but exhale a smoke ring: "Hey, producer."
His expressionless face held a hint of disdain mixed with a touch of friendly banter: "You're just a cameo, you don't have many scenes. Is it really necessary to work this hard? I saw you fall just now, it sounded painful."
"It hurts a bit."
Kitahara Shin casually grabbed a towel to wipe his face, unscrewed a bottle of water, took a big gulp, and exhaled a puff of hot air: "But don't you think the harder I fall, the more realistic Yusuke's reaction will be? Since it's filming, even if it's only for a few seconds, the quality has to be high, right?"
Upon hearing this, Takeshi Kitano forced a helpless smile onto his fierce face: "It sounds like you really have high expectations for this movie—but you're putting more pressure on me."
"Come on."
Kitahara Shin rolled his eyes at him and plopped down on the grass: "If you were really under a lot of pressure, you wouldn't have been yelling at the lighting technician just now. I think you were enjoying yourself."
The two looked at each other and smiled.
After a while, Takeshi Kitano lit another cigarette, looked at the sunlight dancing on the distant sea, and suddenly asked, "Seriously, Kitahara, why did you write this script?"
He turned his head, a hint of inquiry in his eyes behind his sunglasses: "A thug, a child, and a mother searching. Does this story hold any special meaning for you?"
Kitahara Shin paused for a moment.
He fiddled with the comical octopus headgear in his hand, remaining silent for a moment.
"As for its significance—there are quite a few."
He held up three fingers: "First, of course, it's to give you a hand. When I first entered the industry, you were the one who got me on TV. Now everyone says you're box office poison, and I don't believe it. I want to see if 'BeatTakeshi' can still hold its own."
Takeshi Kitano scoffed and turned his head to the side, seemingly disdainful, but the fingers holding the cigarette trembled slightly.
"Secondly—"
Kitahara Shin recalled the park at sunset that day.
The usually silly and spoiled Nanako Matsushima stood like a warrior in front of the two bullied children. She told him that she wanted to bring dreams to children and to make the world a little warmer.
That look in his eyes at that moment remains unforgettable to him.
"The other day, I saw a little fool stand up for a child who was being bullied."
Kitahara Shin's lips curved into a gentle smile: "I was thinking, if we could make a heartwarming movie like this, which is clumsy and full of strange adults, but still tries to protect a child's childhood—she would probably love it."
Upon hearing this, Takeshi Kitano raised an eyebrow, looking at him with some surprise: "So—you made this film and wrote this script, actually to please your little girlfriend?"
"Not entirely."
Kitahara Shin's smile faded, and he added a third finger with a nonchalant expression: "Of course, it's also for making money. This film has a low budget, and if it becomes a hit, the return on investment will be very high."
"People often have multiple purposes for doing something. Helping a brother, winning over a girlfriend, making money—these three don't conflict or interfere with each other, right?"
Takeshi Kitano stared into his eyes.
Those eyes were crystal clear, devoid of any of the hypocrisy and scheming common in the entertainment industry. He genuinely thought that way, and he genuinely acted on it.
"Oh----"
Takeshi Kitano shook his head, threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, his tone carrying a complex emotion: "You really are a freak."
"Having been in this industry for so long, no matter how big a star they are, they all have a lot of scheming in their hearts. Someone like you—"
He paused, seemingly searching for the right words, and finally just shrugged: "They're simply from a different world than us."
In this melting pot of desire, fame, and betrayal, someone who can openly say "it's for making money and to appease my girlfriend" and still maintain that pure initial intention is simply an anomaly.
But it is precisely because he is such an outlier that he can write such a tender story.
"Uncle! Octopus brother! Come play 'Statues'!"
Yusuke's childish shouts could be heard from afar.
"They're here!"
Kitahara Shin responded, put the silly octopus headgear back on, patted the dirt off his butt, and stood up.
"Let's go, director."
He reached out and pulled Takeshi Kitano up from the ground: "Whether he's a freak or not, let's get through this summer first."
Kitano Takeshi watched his retreating figure, adjusted his sunglasses, and a long-lost, genuine smile appeared on his lips.
"Let's go."
The crew of "Kikujiro's Summer" is taking a temporary break.
Kitahara Shin drove back to Tokyo.
-
There's been a strange phenomenon in the entertainment industry lately. The reporters from *Weekly Bunshun*, like hunting dogs, followed Kitahara Shin, Nakamori Akina, and Sakai Izumi for almost half a year, and finally came to a conclusion that's both laughable and absurd: "The relationship between these three is a very pure and noble musical partnership."
The reason is simple: it's too open.
What kind of two-timing scumbag would dare let two top singers spend every day writing songs, eating, and even visiting each other on set? And these two women are as close as sisters. This defies common sense, and it certainly doesn't fit the logic of a scumbag.
So the paparazzi abandoned their speculation about a "love triangle" and began to sing the praises of this "soulmate in the music scene."
This gave Kitahara Shin a great deal of freedom to move around in Tokyo.
Evening, Ginza.
A brand-new, black Porsche 964 Turbo slowly pulled up to the side of the road. This was Kitahara Shin's newly purchased car; compared to his business-oriented Mercedes, this "violent frog" was more in line with his current status as a young company president.
The car door opened, and Akina Nakamori got in.
Today she was wearing a simple black knit sweater, sunglasses, and her hair was casually pinned up, exuding a慵懒 (yōnglǎn, meaning lazy or languid) air.
A mature and refined flavor.
"A new car?"
Akina took off her sunglasses, looked around the interior, and joked with a smile, "Looks like President Kitahara has struck it rich lately."
"It's alright, it's mainly for celebration."
He specifically invited Akina out today, not only for dinner, but also to conduct an experiment to verify just how outrageous the "great increase in luck" of this purple equipment could be.
Therefore, he bought some lottery tickets on his way here.
"What are we celebrating?" Akina asked curiously.
"Celebrating today is a good day."
Kitahara Shin smiled mysteriously and turned to look at her: "Akina, is there anything you've been wanting lately but haven't been able to buy?"
"Things that can't be bought?"
Akina paused, somewhat puzzled: "What do you mean? Didn't you just give me a birthday present? Are you going to give me another one?"
"It's not a birthday present. It's that kind of regret—being unable to buy it because it's out of stock, or because you have to buy other items or wait in line."
Akina tilted her head and thought for a moment, then said hesitantly, "Yes, we do have some. A limited edition Hermès scarf, and that new black quilted Chanel bag—I've asked at the store several times, and the sales assistants all say they're out of stock all over Japan and I'll have to wait until next year."
At this point, she glanced at Kitahara Shin: "What? You're taking me to try my luck?"
"Yes, I feel like I'm having a lucky day."
Kitahara Shin stepped on the gas, and the Porsche roared as it drove toward Ginza's luxury shopping street.
Twenty minutes later.
Chanel boutique.
"I'm so sorry, Ms. Nakamori, that bag is really out of stock."
The saleswoman looked at the big star with an apologetic expression.
Akina shrugged, turned to look at Kitahara Shin, her eyes seeming to say, "See? I told you it was hopeless."
However, just as Kitahara Shin gently rubbed the marbles in his pocket with his fingers...
The phone behind the counter suddenly rang.
The store manager answered the phone, listened for a couple of sentences, and then her expression suddenly turned strange. She hung up the phone, strode over to the two men, her face beaming with delight: "Ms. Nakamori! Mr. Kitahara! It's a miracle!"
"A VIP customer who pre-ordered this bag just called to say they have to cancel their order because they're moving overseas. This bag—is now in stock!"
Akina's eyes widened: "Really?"
"and----"
The store manager lowered his voice and, as if presenting a treasure, took out an exquisite box from the warehouse: "This is a new accessory for next season that was just air-freighted from headquarters and hasn't been put on the shelves yet. There's only one in all of Asia. It was originally intended to be a display item, but since you two are so destined to meet—"
Half an hour later.
The two walked out of the mall.
Akina was carrying that "limited edition" bag and had that "legendary" scarf around her neck, and she was still a little dazed.
"This is too weird!"
She looked at Kitahara Shin with disbelief in her eyes: "The way that store manager looked at you was like he was looking at a god of wealth."
"I told you, I'm lucky today."
Kitahara Shin smiled but didn't explain much.
But this is just the beginning.
A high-end French restaurant in Ginza.
This restaurant usually has a month-long waiting list for reservations, but today, as soon as they arrived, a group of customers cancelled their reservations. The two naturally ended up sitting at the table with the best view.
When paying the bill.
Congratulations to you both!
A waiter pushed over a small cart with an elegant raffle box on it, and said with a beaming smile, "This is a special event for our tenth anniversary. Each night, only one lucky guest will win today's grand prize."
Akina Nakamori glanced at Shin Kitahara, then casually reached into the box and pulled out a card.
Golden.
The waiter glanced at her and immediately rang the small bell in his hand: "Grand Prize! Congratulations, Miss! Your entire bill for tonight is on the house, and we'll also be giving you a complimentary bottle of vintage champagne as a souvenir!"
Applause erupted in the restaurant.
Akina held the gold card and looked at the astonishing amount on the bill (after all, several bottles of good wine had been ordered), and was completely bewildered.
"This is too weird!"
As they walked out of the restaurant, she couldn't help but reach out and pinch Kitahara Shin's cheek, her eyes filled with disbelief: "Buy a bag and get it in stock, eat for free—Shin, are you blessed by Lady Luck today? This luck is a little scary."
"Maybe."
Kitahara Shin smiled and helped her open the car door.
It seems that the equipment's effects are indeed immediate.
However, he soon realized that in this world, being "too lucky" can sometimes be a sweet burden.
Late at night, in the port area.
Because Akina was used to living in her own apartment, which was close to the recording studio, and Izumi often came over to visit and write songs, Kitahara Shin did not take her to the new mansion, but instead returned to her cozy little home.
The lighting in the entryway was dim and warm.
The moment I stepped inside, the oppressive atmosphere that had been building up all night was ignited.
The excitement brought by today's "lucky streak" filled the air with the scent of hormones.
The two walked from the living room all the way to the bedroom.
As Kitahara Shin reached out to turn off the bedside lamp, preparing to take out the little box of "reason" from the drawer.
A slender hand gently pressed down on the back of his hand.
By the moonlight streaming through the window, he could see Akina's watery eyes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and she whispered in his ear, her voice as soft as a feather: "Hey—Shin."
"Um?
'
"actually----"
She bit her lip, as if gathering a great deal of courage, and hinted in a very low voice, "I checked the calendar. Today is safe."
The meaning of this sentence couldn't be clearer.
On this beautiful night, she wanted to get closer to him.
however.
The instant I heard those words.
Kitahara Shin's mind, which had been somewhat confused and infatuated, was instantly sobered up as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.
His mind, almost inexplicably, flashed back to the attribute description of the [purple marble] in his pocket: [Strong Luck: Greatly increases luck when performing "probabilistic events".]
Wait a moment.
Probabilistic events?
Although medically speaking, today is a "safe period," it's essentially a matter of probability! The so-called "safety" only means a low probability, not a zero probability.
But the problem is—he's a man currently blessed with the [Strong Luck] buff!
If at this moment, that damned "greatly improved luck" kicks in—turning the original 0.01% into a positive one—…
The "winning rate" has been forcibly increased to a 100% "one-shot kill" —
Wouldn't that lead to someone dying?!
Although he loves Akina very much and doesn't want to shirk responsibility, both of their careers are currently on the rise, and Akina has just returned to her peak. If she were to suddenly have a child at this time, it would be explosive news and a devastating blow to her career.
"Gulp."
Kitahara Shin swallowed hard.
This isn't a lucky marble, it's clearly a Guanyin statue granting children!
Looking at the expectant yet shy eyes of the beauty in his arms, Kitahara Shin took a deep breath and, with an unprecedentedly serious and firm will, grasped her hand in return.
"no."
He said it with righteous indignation.
"Why?"
Akina froze, looking at him with a mixture of grievance and confusion: "Why? It was perfectly safe—"
"because----"
Unable to explain the existence of the system, Kitahara Shin could only brace himself, look at her with a deep affection, and earnestly spout nonsense: "Because I've been incredibly lucky today."
95
"It's so good that I feel—if I don't take any precautions, even if there's only a one in ten million chance, God will force me to win the lottery."
He kissed her forehead, his tone gentle but his actions resolute: "I still want to enjoy a few more years of just the two of us, Akina. This kind of good fortune is better left to the lottery and the box office."
Done.
Ignoring Akina's minor protests and grumbles, he swiftly and skillfully implemented defensive measures.
That night.
Kitahara Shin won the luck of the whole world.
But at the last moment, in order not to be that "unexpected father," he still chickened out, relying on his own strength.
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