HPDBC Chapter 179 Shattering the Idol Mask and the Neighbor by the Sea
Chapter 179 Shattering the Idol Mask and the Neighbor by the Sea
Chapter 179 Shattering the Idol Mask and the Neighbor by the Sea
Late February, Roppongi, Tokyo.
In the rehearsal room of Kitahara's office, a gloomy sky stretched out through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Inside, the air was filled with a suffocating sense of focus.
Rie Miyazawa and Nanako Matsushima were sitting on the floor, a thick stack of documents in front of them. These weren't scripts, but real case files obtained from the Metropolitan Police Department archives and through special channels, as well as clinical observation reports on drug addicts.
The photos are shocking. They depict the true abyss of humanity.
"Do you feel nauseous?"
Kitahara Shin stood before them, holding a pointer in his hand. His voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable pressure.
Rie Miyazawa's face was pale, but she didn't scream or run away like a typical girl. She stared intently at the woman in the photo, ravaged by drugs, a complex pain flashing in her eyes.
She is not a hothouse flower. Having experienced being treated as a cash cow by her own mother, and even going so far as to take her to court, she has long seen even more disgusting human nature.
"It's a bit disgusting." Rie looked up, her voice a little hoarse, but her eyes were stubborn. "But I can see."
"very good."
Kitahara Shin walked up to her and squatted down. Instead of keeping his distance like he would with ordinary employees, he gently lifted her chin and looked directly into her eyes.
This gesture might seem ambiguous to outsiders, but between them, it's an extremely familiar and tacit understanding.
"Rie, you don't need to 'act' as a victim."
Kitahara Shin lowered his voice, so only she could hear: "Think about that woman. Think about how you were betrayed by the person closest to you, how you were pushed into the abyss. Dig that despair, that hatred that wants to destroy everything, out of your heart."
"That drug addict would kneel down for his drugs. And you, back then, did you ever consider destroying yourself for freedom?"
Rie Miyazawa's pupils suddenly contracted.
The memories she tried to forget about her mother, "Mitsuko," were mercilessly ripped open by this man.
It hurts.
But it was also very enjoyable.
"I see----"
Rie bit her lip, her eyes reddening, but not from grievance; rather, from an impending outburst of madness. She gripped Kitahara Shin's wrist, her nails digging almost into his flesh: "I'll act well. I'll bring that madwoman to life."
Kitahara Shin smiled with satisfaction and gently patted her cheek, as if soothing a frightened cat that had bared its claws.
And on the side.
Nanako Matsushima was engrossed in reading a psychological profile report about a serial killer.
Compared to Rie's immersive pain, her state was somewhat—subtle.
"teacher!"
Nanako suddenly raised her hand, her innocent, dazed expression a stark contrast to the blood-stained report in her hand: "This killer's heart rate was only 60 when he committed the murder? Was he asleep?"
"That's extreme calmness, you idiot."
Kitahara Shin sighed helplessly, walked over, and gently tapped her head with his pointer: "Don't look at this stuff with that silly expression. What I want you to learn is this sense of normalcy, treating killing as if it were as commonplace as eating and drinking."
"Yes, teacher!"
Nanako covered her head, but instead of being angry, her eyes sparkled and her cheeks even flushed slightly.
I got scolded by the teacher.
The teacher hit me on the head.
The teacher is watching me.
This strange thought process made her seem out of place in the oppressive rehearsal room, yet it unexpectedly fit the role of the "cold-blooded killer"—a naive cruelty lacking common sense.
"Keep watching. If you don't learn that look today, you won't get any dinner."
"Huh—? What happened?!"
Nanako let out a wail and quickly lowered her head to continue working on the report, but a slight smile secretly crept onto her lips.
The special training lasted for a full four hours.
The rehearsal room was filled with a stifling silence, broken only by the sound of pages turning.
Kitahara Shin glanced at his watch.
"I have to go out for a bit. You guys practice on your own this afternoon."
He put down his pointer and straightened his suit.
"Hmm? Where to?"
Rie Miyazawa looked up from the pile of files, looking somewhat tired, but her tone was casual, as if she owned the place: "Are you coming back for dinner tonight?"
"Go sign a contract."
Kitahara Shin said casually, "I asked Ota to look at houses for me before, and I need to go and finalize things today. I might not be back tonight."
With his assets skyrocketing, his apartment in the port area, though luxurious, no longer offered enough privacy. To avoid being constantly stalked by paparazzi, and also to leave some room for future—well, certain complicated family relationships—he needed more "bases."
This time he acquired three properties in one go:
A villa deep in the mountains of Karuizawa, a perfect place for escaping the summer heat and living in seclusion.
A traditional townhouse in Kyoto, near the Kamo River, perfect for relaxation and rejuvenation.
There's another place, in Hayama-cho, Kanagawa Prefecture, not far from Tokyo. It's a famous wealthy area, nestled between mountains and the sea, and it's where we're going to sign the contract today.
"A house?" Nanako looked up curiously. "Teacher, are you moving? Can I go play at your new house?"
"Let's talk about it after we've practiced our acting."
Kitahara Shin rolled his eyes at her, then nodded to Rie, "Let's go."
Outside the rehearsal room.
A quiet young girl sat on a bench in the corridor.
Matsu Takako.
She held the script of "The Flowers of Evil" in her hands, but didn't read it. Her gaze remained fixed on the situation inside through the glass door.
Since taking on the lead role, she has come to the company every day.
She saw the outburst of Rie Miyazawa after revealing her scars, and the strange state of Nanako Matsushima, who found joy even under strict discipline.
Furthermore, it showed how the man skillfully managed these two completely different women.
"no the same----"
Matsu Takako thought to herself silently.
Compared to his politeness towards himself, the president was noticeably more intimate and less reserved towards the two senior colleagues. The atmosphere of casual teasing and banter didn't feel like work; it was more like a family dynamic.
This "differential treatment" aroused a subtle curiosity in her heart.
That night.
Dinner time at the Matsumoto family mansion.
The table was set with exquisite kaiseki cuisine, but the atmosphere was somewhat formal.
"I heard that 'The Flowers of Evil' has already started generating buzz in major newspapers."
Matsumoto Koshiro (head of the Koryo-ya business) put down his chopsticks and looked at his daughter: "How are you feeling at that Kitahara office? What kind of person is Kitahara Shin?"
Matsumoto Koshiro actually had reservations about his beloved daughter acting in a TV series, especially one with a dark theme.
"That's impressive."
After thinking for a moment, Matsu Takako gave a fair assessment: "He has extremely high standards for acting. He gave Miyazawa-senpai and Matsushima-senpai a severe dressing-down, showing them no mercy whatsoever."
She paused, recalling what she had witnessed that afternoon: "But—I think he understands them very well. He knows how to bring out a person's potential. After he made Miyazawa-senpai cry, his eyes became even more expressive."
"Oh?"
Matsumoto Koshiro was somewhat surprised. Although his daughter appeared docile, she was extremely proud and rarely praised her peers so openly.
"Try to get to know him better."
Matsumoto Koshiro nodded thoughtfully, picking up his teacup: "Although I came from a self-taught background, getting this far is definitely not just luck. If possible—it wouldn't be bad to make friends."
"dad----"
Matsu Takako rolled her eyes, finally revealing a hint of her spoiled princess temperament: "You're not thinking of selling your daughter, are you? I haven't even debuted yet."
"What nonsense are you talking about!"
Matsumoto Koshiro put on a stern face. "Do I need to sell my daughter from the Koryo-ya? I'm telling you to learn something! Stop spending all your time at home reading those boring romance novels."
Despite being scolded by her father, Matsu Takako's curiosity did not diminish.
What is the true nature of that man?
Hayama Town.
This is a high-end resort area where even the Japanese Imperial Family has their own villas. There's no hustle and bustle of Tokyo, only the sounds of waves and pine trees.
Kitahara Shin signed the papers and received the keys.
This is a two-story modern villa with a huge ocean-view terrace and a private garden.
"call----"
Kitahara Shin stood on the terrace and took a deep breath of the salty sea breeze.
Looking at the sea under the setting sun in the distance, my tense nerves finally relaxed a bit.
"Let's stay here tonight."
He decided not to go back to Tokyo for now. Anyway, he didn't have anything urgent to do tomorrow, and the place was fully furnished, so he could experience this kind of life facing the sea.
It was evening.
Kitahara Shin changed into casual clothes and planned to go to the nearby supermarket to buy some groceries.
He had just pushed open the wrought iron gate to the garden.
"Splash!"
The sound of watering plants came from the neighboring yard.
Although the villas here are surrounded by walls, they are not very high for the sake of the view.
Kitahara Shin subconsciously turned his head to look.
Then, he froze.
In the neighboring garden, a girl in casual clothes, holding a hose, was watering the flowers with her back to him. Hearing the door open, the girl turned around.
Eyes facing each other.
The girl's eyes widened instantly, and she almost dropped the water pipe in her hand.
"Huh?! Kita-hara-san?!"
Matsu Takako.
She never expected that she would run into her own boss when she just went back to her family's villa for a weekend rest!
And—they're neighbors?!
The odds are even lower than winning the lottery. But that's the pattern in wealthy areas—rich people tend to cluster in just a few places.
"What a coincidence, Matsu-san."
Kitahara Shin quickly regained his composure and greeted him with a smile: "I didn't expect my new neighbor to be you."
"Ah—yes, yes—"
Matsu Takako's face turned slightly red. She always put on a composed, sophisticated air at work, but being seen by her boss dressed casually and without makeup was really damaging to her image.
"Um—did you just move here?"
"Yes, I just signed the contract. We'll be neighbors from now on, please take care of me."
Kitahara Shin noticed the girl's embarrassment and didn't press the matter further. He politely waved his hand and said, "I still need to buy some things, so please excuse me."
Watching Kitahara Shin's departing figure, Matsu Takako breathed a sigh of relief and patted her chest.
What a coincidence!
Kitahara Shin walked slowly along the coastal road.
Although he went to buy things, he didn't go directly to the supermarket, but instead went to the beach below.
As the sun sets, waves crash against the beach, churning up white foam. The salty sea breeze brushes against your face, carrying a hint of late winter chill.
He's been so busy lately. Busy filming, busy winning awards, busy running his company. He hasn't really enjoyed the fun of "treasure hunting" in a long time.
"It's a rare opportunity to come to the seaside, especially to this wealthy area. Who knows, we might find some good stuff washed up here."
A thought crossed my mind.
-
Instead of summoning the system, he focused his consciousness on his equipment inventory and selected the accessory that had been lying quietly in the corner: [Red Thread of Fate (Treasure Hunter Edition)].
That was the "talisman" that Nanako gave him back then, and it's also his only treasure-hunting radar at the moment.
[Equipment Activation]
In an instant, the world in Kitahara Shin's eyes changed.
On the once gray beach, tiny specks of light began to appear. Within a ten-meter radius of vision, most of the light was worthless white glimmers, representing ordinary seashells, shards of glass, or discarded trash.
He strolled along the beach like a gold prospector with a metal detector, his eyes quickly scanning the white areas, searching for any unusual colors.
It took about five minutes to walk.
Sudden.
Amidst a pile of driftwood and dried seaweed washed ashore by the waves, a faint, deep blue light, like that of the deep sea, pierced his eyes.
"blue?"
Kitahara Shin's eyes lit up.
In this system, white represents ordinary, green represents excellent, and blue represents "superior," often signifying items with special abilities. And finding blue equipment at the beach is truly lucky—it seems Nanako's "great luck" is indeed effective.
He strode over, ignoring the roughness of the gravel, and pushed aside the pile of tangled driftwood.
Beneath that, half-buried in the sand, lay a long, rusty, and somewhat old metal object.
[Equipable item detected: The Wandering Musician's Rusty Harmonica (Blue)]
[Equipment Effect: Melancholy Blues (Active)]
• When playing, musical skills are temporarily elevated to "master level".
The melody itself carries an atmosphere of "loneliness and freedom," which greatly affects the emotions of listeners, especially those who yearn for freedom or feel repressed.
"A harmonica?"
Kitahara Shin took the rusty thing in his hand and wiped the sand off it.
This thing is interesting.
In the past, he might have thought it was useless. But now, with the drama "Flower of Evil" and that repressed character, this thing might come in very handy.
"Give it a try."
Kitahara Shin stood in the sea breeze, putting his harmonica to his lips.
[Equipment: The Rusty Harmonica of the Wandering Musician (Blue) Activated]
The moment the first note rang out, Kitahara Shin felt as if his soul had been tugged.
A melodious, desolate tune, yet carrying a sense of freedom that embraces life in the face of death, drifted away on the sea breeze.
That's the blues.
It is the purest song, belonging to the wanderers.
On the terrace of a villa not far away.
Matsu Takako, who was watering the flowers, suddenly stopped.
She heard that voice.
The sound traveled through the garden walls, through the howling sea breeze, and straight into her ears.
That melody—it's so lonely.
It's so lonely it makes you want to cry, yet you can't help but want to keep listening.
She put down the hose and unconsciously walked to the edge of the terrace, looking towards the beach.
At sunset.
The man in casual clothes had a very long silhouette against the backdrop of his back.
He stood by the waves, holding a small instrument in his hand, playing a tune on the wind towards the sea.
"That's... Kitahara-san?"
Matsu Takako was stunned.
She had never seen Kitahara Shin like this before.
Gone are the authority of a company president and the aura of a movie star. At this moment, he looks like a lonely wanderer, conversing with the sea through his soul.
That poignant yet liberating melody still seems to echo in my ears.
Matsu Takako returned to the living room of the villa, sat on the sofa somewhat absentmindedly, and casually turned on the TV.
On the screen, the fourth episode of "Kitahara Shin Can Do Anything!" was being replayed.
"boom-!!"
The roar of a powerful engine shattered the tranquility of the villa. In the footage, a red GTR flashed across the track like lightning, leaving billows of white smoke as it executed a breathtaking gutter drift.
The camera zooms in.
The man in the driver's seat turned his head to the side, took off his helmet, his black hair was wet with sweat, and showed the camera his signature arrogant and domineering smile.
"Is it exciting?"
That was absolute confidence, the look of the strong, an arrogance as if the whole world was under their feet.
Matsu Takako hugged her pillow tightly, watching the radiant Kitahara Shin on TV, then subconsciously turned her head to look out the window at the beach that had already blended into the twilight.
Just a few minutes ago.
The same man, dressed in ordinary casual clothes, stood by the waves, his back to her, looking desolate, playing the blues that even she, who had grown up listening to classical music, found heart-stirring.
An all-around movie star.
A ruthless company president.
A crazy race car driver.
And—a lonely wanderer?
Matsu Takako's eyes lit up slightly, and her fingers unconsciously tightened, wrinkling the pillow.
Why————
A thought popped into the girl's mind, and the more she thought about it, the more reasonable it seemed:
Could it be—because I'm too lonely?
Even if you reach the top of this industry, even if you become the president of a company, even if you win the Best Actor award that every actor dreams of—
Does he still not have anyone he can truly confide in?
Could his arrogance on television, his coldness in the rehearsal room, and even his so-called image be nothing more than a mask he had to wear to survive in this industry?
Beneath that hard mask lies a soul yearning for freedom yet trapped, who plays the harmonica alone by the sea at sunset.
"Kitahara Shin————"
She murmured the name, watching the man on the TV screen laughing wildly, yet a strange urge to investigate him welled up within her.
This feeling of "curiosity" is like a wildly growing vine that is becoming somewhat uncontrollable.
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