HPDBC Chapter 184 The Dream Weaver's Pen, "The Flower of Evil" Premieres
Chapter 184 The Dream Weaver's Pen, "The Flower of Evil" Premieres
Chapter 184 The Dream Weaver's Pen, "The Flower of Evil" Premieres
At three in the morning, the light was still on in the study of the port apartment.
Kitahara Shin sat at his desk, holding a seemingly ordinary black fountain pen in his hand, but in his vision, it was a quill pen that shimmered with a faint blue light.
[Equipment: Dreamweaver's Automatic Quill (Blue) in effect]
His hand moved swiftly across the manuscript paper, almost leaving afterimages. Every scene, every panel, and even the classic rhythm of Joe Hisaishi's score from "Kikujiro's Summer" in his mind was precisely transformed into words with this pen.
That stern-faced uncle, that little boy with the winged backpack, that summer filled with sunshine and cicada songs—
This isn't writing; this is "downloading."
"Done."
Two hours later, Kitahara Shin put down his pen and rubbed his slightly sore wrist.
The thick stack of manuscript paper was densely covered with writing. It wasn't just a script; it was more like a novel with vivid imagery.
The next morning, Kitahara Shin threw the manuscript in front of Nojima Shinji.
"have a look."
Shinji Nojima, sporting dark circles under his eyes, picked up the manuscript paper with some confusion. He had assumed the president was just writing something casually, or perhaps just a few pages of outline.
However, when he turned to the first page and read a few lines, his expression changed.
Ten minutes later.
Twenty minutes later.
Shinji Nojima was completely absorbed in the story. He even forgot he was reading a script, as if he were truly in that hot summer, embarking on an absurd yet heartwarming journey with the hoodlum and the little boy.
"this----"
Shinji Nojima looked up, his gaze complex as he looked at Shin Kitahara, who was drinking coffee: "President, did you really write this last night?"
"What? Is there a problem?"
"No problem — or rather, a big problem."
97
Shinji Nojima took a deep breath and waved the manuscript in his hand: "There's no need for me to turn this into a script. It's a very mature novel in itself. The imagery is so vivid, and even the characters' inner thoughts are described in great detail."
He paused, his tone somewhat agitated: "President, it would be a waste to just adapt it into a screenplay and have Takeshi Kitano direct it. I suggest we publish it as a novel first."
"A novel?" Kitahara Shin raised an eyebrow.
"Yes. In Japan, although the entertainment industry may seem glamorous, writers, doctors, and lawyers are the truly respected professions in terms of social status."
As a top screenwriter, Shinji Nojima understands the unspoken rules of this society all too well: "If you can become a bestselling author, your words will carry completely different weight, whether you're speaking within the industry or dealing with conglomerates and politicians."
Kitahara Shin nodded thoughtfully.
indeed.
In Japan, a society that values academic qualifications and has a strict occupational hierarchy, even the most famous "actor" is merely a figure of entertainment. But if one is a "thoughtful writer," then one enters the so-called "intellectual class."
This is a great calling card for him to build his entertainment empire in the future.
That makes sense.
Kitahara Shin smiled. "Then we'll do it your way. But I don't know anything about publishing, so you can polish this manuscript for me, and I'll leave the specific publishing details to you."
"no problem."
Shinji Nojima readily agreed, "What about the attribution? Should I add my name? After all, I also helped with the editing."
"Sure," Kitahara Shin replied generously.
"No, no, no."
Shinji Nojima quickly waved his hand, smiling as he declined, "I was just joking. This is entirely your creation; I'm just a repairman. I hope to have more opportunities to collaborate with the president in the future; that's enough for me."
He is a smart man.
Rather than vying for this empty fame, it's better to cling to this powerful backer. Moreover, he was genuinely moved by the story and even somewhat admired the young president's talent.
"Okay. That's settled then."
Having settled matters concerning the script and novel, Kitahara Shin drove to the film set.
Today is a crucial scene in "Flowers of Evil".
Sayuri Yoshinaga has joined the cast.
This national treasure-level actress didn't bring a large group of assistants, only an agent, and appeared on set discreetly dressed. But when she stood there, the atmosphere of the entire crew instantly froze.
That elegance and composure, refined by time, carries an invisible pressure that makes all the staff subconsciously soften their movements and straighten their backs.
"Good morning, Professor Yoshinaga."
Kitahara Shin went over to say hello.
"Good morning, Kitahara-kun," Yoshinaga Sayuri replied with a smile, holding the script she had read countless times. "That character called 'Black Lizard'—she's very interesting. I'm looking forward to seeing how you handle her poison."
In *Flowers of Evil*, the protagonist, Shinji Himuro, is outwardly an elite detective in the Metropolitan Police Department's First Investigative Division, possessing extremely keen insight and a very high case-solving rate. But beneath that crisp police uniform, he is actually a criminal on the fringes of society.
A "criminal mentor" on the fringes of Germany.
He abhorred the inefficiency of the law and despised criminals with crude methods. Whenever he encountered "potential criminals" who harbored murderous intent but hesitated or whose methods were clumsy, he would not arrest them. Instead, he would approach them like a "devil," whispering in their ears and instructing them on how to refine their methods, how to create alibis, and even how to psychologically break down their victims. He viewed crime as an art that needed to be sculpted.
His opponent is a mysterious psychology professor named Michiko Takahashi.
This elegant woman lost three husbands in the past decade and inherited a huge fortune. She was known as the "Black Widow," but the police found no evidence against her.
Today's filming segment features Michiko Takahashi voluntarily turning herself in to the Metropolitan Police Department. She's not doing this to atone for her sins, but to find the legendary "monster" hidden within the police force.
"All departments, prepare! Action!"
In a dimly lit special interrogation room.
Only a single table lamp emitted a pale white light, casting extremely long shadows of the two people.
"Action!"
As the clapperboard fell, Shin Kitahara, playing Shinji Himuro, suddenly pushed open the iron door and slammed the thick autopsy report in his hand onto the table.
"Snapped!"
Dust particles danced in the beam of light.
"Stop pretending, Professor Takahashi."
Kitahara Shin braced his hands on the table, leaning forward, staring intently at the woman before him, his eyes filled with the fury of a righteous detective: "Although aconitine metabolizes quickly, we still extracted alkaloids from the residue in your husband's gastric juices. With just one more mass spectrometry analysis, you'll spend the rest of your life in prison."
Sitting opposite her was Sayuri Yoshinaga, dressed in an expensive black coat and wearing gold-rimmed glasses. Faced with this thunderous roar, she simply elegantly picked up the paper cup in front of her, as if savoring a fine black tea.
"Officer, if you had evidence, I would be under arrest right now."
She put down her paper cup, adjusted her glasses, and her eyes were full of contempt for this impotent rage: "Instead of sitting here listening to you bluff like a barking stray dog. Is this how Japanese police taxes are wasted?"
The two engaged in a heated exchange, their words sharp and witty.
Kitahara Shin attacked more and more aggressively, his forehead veins bulging; Yoshinaga Sayuri defended more and more steadily, leaving no room for error.
Until a certain moment—
Kitahara Shin suddenly stopped all his movements.
He took a deep breath, his face, which had been flushed with anger, instantly returning to calm, like a still pond. He glanced at the security camera in the corner, then at the one-way glass, and deftly shifted his body to the left, blocking the camera's blind spot.
Then he reached out his hand.
"Clatter".
The voice recorder on the table was turned off.
The air in the interrogation room seemed to freeze for a second.
Kitahara Shin slowly sat back in his chair, unbuttoning the first button of his trench coat. The image of that righteous, passionate, and even somewhat reckless detective instantly crumbled.
He took a cigarette out of his pocket, lit it, and took a deep drag. Through the swirling smoke, he looked at Sayuri Yoshinaga with an expression that was almost pity, yet also carried a hint of guidance.
"Aconitine? That's too old-fashioned, Professor."
His voice was low, carrying a magnetic, instigating malice: "That stuff, while classic, easily leaves traces of neurotoxins. If I were you—I'd choose a high concentration of potassium chloride. Injected intravenously, it'll cause cardiac arrest within three minutes; the autopsy would only show a myocardial infarction."
He flicked his cigarette ash, a "mentor" smile playing on his lips, a dangerous glint in his eyes: "Your methods are too crude, wasting such a good motive. Want to learn? The real—art of murder."
Logically, a criminal whose methods have been exposed should be terrified or overjoyed to have found someone like them.
however.
Yoshinaga Sayuri did not move.
As she looked at the man before her, who was exuding a deadly allure, the arrogant "Black Widow" mask on her face suddenly melted away like ice and snow.
But that is not submission.
She took off her gold-rimmed glasses and casually tossed them onto the table.
Those eyes, which had remained calm even in the face of accusations, now shone with a sharp light like that of a hawk. It wasn't the look a criminal gives an accomplice; it was the look of a hunter who had finally waited for the fox to show its tail.
"I see."
She spoke softly, her tone devoid of its previous arrogance, replaced by a confident air of complete control: "The rumors are true. The monster hiding in the Metropolitan Police Department who specializes in helping criminals escape legal punishment—it really was you, Inspector Himuro."
She leaned forward, pressing against him, her voice like a knife: "You think I kill people just to kill them? No, how can I lure out a venomous snake like you hiding under a police uniform if I don't become bait?"
In that very instant.
Kitahara Shin's pupils suddenly contracted.
A fleeting look of astonishment, as if his prey had turned the tables on him, crossed his eyes. But it was only for a moment.
There was no anger or embarrassment, nor any hysteria after being exposed.
Instead, he laughed.
It was a professional smile, a smile of compassion for the mentally ill.
He slowly and deliberately stubbed out his cigarette on the table, his movements as gentle as if he were brushing away a speck of dust. Then, he rebuttoned his trench coat, concealing the dark aura that had been revealed for a fleeting moment.
"Professor, you have a very rich imagination."
Kitahara Shin shook his head, his tone full of regret, as if looking at a pathetic wretch spouting nonsense to clear his name: "To clear your name, you'd even fabricate a story like this. It seems the deaths of your three husbands really put a lot of mental pressure on you."
He leaned down, close to Yoshinaga Sayuri, his voice calm and utterly emotionless: "This is the Metropolitan Police Department, not your asylum. Don't act like a mad dog, biting everyone you see; that will only make you look worse."
After saying that, he straightened up, casually straightened his collar, and resumed his appearance as an elite detective.
"Interrogation over."
He turned and pushed open the door, leaving behind only an impeccable silhouette.
"Cut!!"
The director's excited shout broke the suffocating tension on set.
"call----"
Kitahara Shinsuke loosened his grip and let out a long breath. The chilling atmosphere instantly dissipated, but his shirt was already soaked with cold sweat.
Cool.
So cool.
Acting opposite Sayuri Yoshinaga is like dancing on the edge of a cliff. No matter how dangerous your gaze is, she can catch it steadily and counter with an even stronger aura, forcing out all your potential.
"sharp."
Sayuri Yoshinaga stood up, not immediately breaking character. She looked at Shin Kitahara, her eyes filled with undisguised admiration and surprise: "Kitahara-kun, your acting—it really surprised me."
She had initially thought that although Kitahara Shin had won the Best Actor award, he might still be somewhat inexperienced in dramatic scenes that relied purely on eye contact and micro-expressions. After all, he was still too young and lacked life experience.
But just now, that dark aura that emanated from the very core, that smoothness of the instantaneous personality shift, was like that of an old witch who had been acting for decades.
"You're too kind."
Kitahara Shin touched his nose somewhat embarrassedly and smiled modestly.
Only he himself knows how much of this "praise" is exaggerated.
Although his acting skills have indeed improved, the infectious power he displayed just now, which allowed him to rival a national treasure-level actress, and the oppressive feeling that made the surrounding air feel cold, largely relied on the passive enhancement of the system equipment.
That's the aura brought by the "cheat code".
But there's no way to explain this; you can't just say "I have a system," can you?
"No, that's no compliment."
Yoshinaga Sayuri shook her head, her tone serious: "The depth of your expression, the subtle shifts between justice and evil in your micro-expressions—it's really hard to believe it's acting. Sometimes I even think that sending you to those so-called academies for further study is a complete waste of your talent."
She looked at Kitahara Shin, seemingly having made a decision, and suddenly smiled: "By the way, are you free this weekend?"
"Huh?" Kitahara Shin was taken aback.
"If you have time, come to my house. I have some old friends I'd like to introduce you to."
Yoshinaga Sayuri spoke casually, but Kitahara Shin could tell that this was more than just an ordinary gathering.
Those who can visit Sayuri Yoshinaga's home are definitely true big shots in this circle. They might be legendary figures like Ken Takakura, or they might be hidden capitalists who control core resources.
That's what connections are.
When you demonstrate sufficient strength and gain the approval of key figures, that previously closed top circle will open its doors to you.
"Okay. That would be my honor."
Kitahara Shin nodded solemnly.
mid March.
Amidst a massive publicity campaign and the hype surrounding Sayuri Yoshinaga's first commercial television drama, "Flower of Evil" finally premiered.
Monday night at 9 PM.
Countless Japanese families were glued to their television sets.
[Opening Theme: "The Invisible Vow"]
As the breathtaking harmonies of Izumi and Akina begin, the screen flashes through a series of dark, oppressive, yet beautiful scenes.
-
The first episode aired.
It lacks the slow, drawn-out setup typical of traditional Japanese dramas.
It's a critical hit right from the start.
rainy night.
In the film, Rie Miyazawa plays the second female lead who kneels before a drug dealer in a filthy alley, begging for a small packet of white powder like a dog.
Immediately afterwards, the female villain, played by Nanako Matsushima, wearing an expensive nightgown, hummed a song while smiling as she wiped away the bloodstains on the floor.
Finally, there's the suffocating psychological counseling scene between Kitahara Shin and Yoshinaga Sayuri.
Dark color scheme.
Bold subject matter.
The entire cast is villainous.
For Japanese viewers accustomed to pure love dramas like "Tokyo Love Story" or morally correct dramas like "Mito Kōmon," this was a visual and psychological explosion.
Some people enjoyed it.
"Holy crap! This plot is so exciting!"
"Kitahara Nobu is so cool! That sense of decadence is amazing!"
"Sayuri Yoshinaga is playing a villain?! My god, this contrast is so exciting!"
But many more people felt uncomfortable.
Even panic.
the next day.
[The premiere ratings for "Flower of Evil" were 19.2%]
This result is absolutely excellent for a prime-time TV series. It's even number one in its time slot.
but.
It did not reach the 25% target that Kitahara Shin and Fuji TV had agreed upon.
And then, trouble struck.
Fuji Television's complaint hotline was overwhelmed with calls.
"How could you broadcast something like this?! My son is so scared he can't sleep after watching it!"
"This is inciting crime! That actress's drug use was so realistic; it's a bad influence on teenagers!"
"Take this perverted TV series off the air! We're going to complain to BP0 (Broadcast Ethics Committee)!"
Leading the charge was the infamous "PTA" (Parent-Teacher Association).
This organization, originally introduced from the United States to promote communication between home and school, has evolved in Japan into an extremely conservative, even somewhat fanatical, group of moral guardians. They relentlessly attack any television content that is even slightly out of line, like mad dogs.
Even the Sato family, who have always been fans of Kitahara Nobu's dramas, dared not let their children watch this time.
"Honey, isn't this show a bit too dark?"
Mrs. Sato shooed her child back to his room to do his homework, watching the television with some concern. "Although the acting is good, Ken is still young; it's not good for him to watch—"
In addition to parent associations, some conservative media outlets have also begun to launch attacks.
The Yomiuri Weekly directly criticized it in an article:
A TV series like a harmful book! Kitahara Shin is playing with fire!
This not only lacks social responsibility, but also tramples on public order and good morals!
It's hard to say that those "old fogies" who had been offended by Kitahara Shin in the past weren't involved in this, as they were likely fueling the flames.
Fuji Television, executive conference room.
The air seemed to freeze, and the ashtray was piled high with cigarette butts.
"Kitahara-san, things aren't looking good."
The production director, wiping the cold sweat from his brow, pointed anxiously at the mountain of complaint letters on the table. "The PTA (Parent-Teacher Association) is really pushing us hard, even threatening to boycott the sponsors' products with the help of women's groups. Several conservative tabloids are also joining the attack. If this continues—should we consider cutting some of the more extreme scenes? Or rewriting the script to make it—more moderate?"
Deletion?
mild?
Sitting at the end of the conference table, Kitahara Shin twirled a pen in his hand, his face showing no sign of panic.
He had long anticipated this day would come.
Filming a drama that confronts the darkness of human nature in 1993 was like striking a match in a room filled with gas.
It will explode.
But if we don't blow them up, how can we tear down those old roofs?
"Cannot be deleted."
Kitahara Shin slammed his pen on the table, the sound soft but carrying an undeniable authority: "If it's cut, this show is dead. Its current popularity stems from its realism and brutality. Viewers criticize it, yet they still can't help but watch—that's human nature."
"But public opinion—"
"Public opinion can be guided."
Kitahara Shin stood up, placed his hands on the table, and glanced at the uneasy executives present. A cold smile appeared on his lips: "Ota."
"exist!"
"Contact the editorial department of the Yomiuri Shimbun. Tell them I need to submit a column tonight and ask them to reserve the front page of tomorrow's morning paper's social section for me."
Upon hearing the name "Yomiuri Shimbun," the Fuji TV executives present were all taken aback.
That's Japan's largest-circulation newspaper and a media giant.
They almost forgot that the young company president in front of them had a personal relationship with Watanabe Tsuneo, who was known as the "Emperor of Media." The friendship they had built when they went fishing at Izumi Sakai's hometown, coupled with the popularity of the protagonist's column in Yomiuri, came in handy now.
"Since the parents' association says this is inciting crime," then I'll elevate it to the level of "exposing the dark side of society and warning the world."
Kitahara Shin's eyes sharpened.
You want to wage a propaganda war against me?
I came back with decades of experience in online flame wars from a later life, and his fingers gently caressed the pen.
[Equipment: Dreamweaver's Automatic Quill Pen (Blue) - Activated]
With this pen that can speak directly to people's hearts, the articles he writes will definitely let those old fogies who only know how to shout slogans know what "dimensional reduction attack" means.
"No need to worry about sponsors."
Kitahara Shin straightened his suit and said confidently, "Once tomorrow's newspaper comes out, this trend will change. At that time, they will be begging us for the top spot."
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