Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 61 Going out for a late-night snack

The air in the recording studio was so dry it felt like it was about to catch fire.

Izumi Sakai leaned against the corner of the wall, clutching the long-empty mineral water bottle in her hand. Her throat burned, as if she had swallowed a handful of sand.

With the release date of his debut single "Good-bye My Loneliness" drawing ever closer, Daiko Nagato's anxiety has reached its late stage.

For the past three days, she has hardly left the office building, spending her time either practicing singing or undergoing grueling training on body shape and facial expression management.

"Let's call it a day for tonight, a hoarse voice will be even more troublesome tomorrow."

The vocal coach finally took pity on her and packed her things to leave.

Quanshui let out a long breath, feeling as if her bones were about to fall apart. She glanced at the clock on the wall; it was one in the morning.

My stomach let out a timely groan.

The company cafeteria has been closed for a long time, and food delivery isn't available at this hour.

The mobile phone in the handbag on the floor suddenly started vibrating.

At this point in time, no one except her agent who is responsible for checking up on her would contact her.

Quanshui answered the phone with some resistance, her voice hoarse: "Feed..."

"It sounds like he just swallowed charcoal."

Instead of the manager's roar, a somewhat lazy male voice came through the receiver, "Would you like something hot to eat?"

Izumi paused for a moment, then sat up straight: "Mr. Kitahara?"

"I'm downstairs, can I sneak out?"

Kitahara Shin's voice carried an allure, "There's freshly cooked seafood udon noodles, and you don't have to listen to Nagato Daiko's nagging."

Two minutes later.

The spring water pressed the brim of his hat very low, and he sneaked into the hall like a thief, clinging to the wall.

At the entrance of Being Company, the security guard on duty was staring intently at the black Toyota Crown parked blatantly in front of the main gate.

During this sensitive period, any unfamiliar vehicle will trigger the security guards' nerves.

"Hey! You over there! This is the company's main entrance, you can't park here!"

The security guard walked over while shouting and waving his flashlight, making quite a show of force.

The spring water shrank back behind the pillar in fright. If she were discovered sneaking out, President Nagato would definitely scold her until she cried tomorrow.

The car window was rolled down halfway.

Kitahara Shin simply rested one hand on the steering wheel, glancing casually at his watch with the other, without even turning his head. He simply tossed out a remark in that nonchalant tone, so commonplace in this industry, directed at subordinates:

"I need to speak with a producer. Two minutes."

The security guard was taken aback.

In a place like Roppongi, someone driving a black Crown, wearing an expensive trench coat, and speaking so arrogantly is usually either the company president or some powerful manager you can't mess with.

He hesitated, lowering the flashlight he had been waving, his imposing manner instantly diminished, and he subconsciously switched to polite language.

"Ah... then please hurry, this is a passageway after all..."

This is the survival rule of the entertainment industry.

The more polite you are, the more people will investigate you; the less you take people seriously, the more they will think you are an important person.

"Get in the car."

While the security guard was still hesitating about whether to verify his identity, Kitahara Shin turned his head and whispered to the shadow behind the pillar.

The spring, whose heart had been pounding with anticipation, rushed out like a startled rabbit, pulling down its hat brim. It opened the car door, climbed into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut.

The movements were completed in one smooth motion.

"I'm gone."

Kitahara Shin stepped on the gas, and the car slid onto the street before the security guard could react.

"call……"

Izumi patted his chest, looked at the security guard scratching his head in the rearview mirror, and couldn't help but laugh out loud, "That's too bad... Mr. Kitahara, the tone you used just now was more like that of a president than President Nagato."

The thrill of skipping class made her tense nerves relax a little.

"What would you like to eat?" Kitahara Shin asked.

"Hot, with soup, and enough to fill you up." The requirements for spring water are very low now.

"Hold on tight."

Instead of heading towards the upscale restaurants in the city that are open all night, the car drove south onto the coastal highway.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped at an abandoned cargo dock.

It was pitch black all around, with only the navigation lights flashing on the distant sea, and the waves crashing against the breakwater on the shore, making a rhythmic splashing sound.

"Is there... a restaurant here?"

The spring looked around in confusion.

"Yes, in the open air."

Kitahara Shin turned off the engine, got out of the car, and opened the trunk.

Curious, Quanshui went closer and, by the light of the car's taillights, saw a portable gas stove, a bottle of purified water, and a professional-looking insulated box.

Kitahara Shin skillfully set up the stove, lit the fire, and poured water.

Blue flames danced in the sea breeze, and the water in the pot soon began to bubble.

He took out a bag of vacuum-packed udon noodles, several prepared prawns, and a few washed shiitake mushrooms and bok choy from the insulated box.

Finally, he took out that dark, heavy kitchen knife.

[Equipment: Midnight Diner's Abandoned Chef's Knife (Activated)]

[Special Effect: Healing Atmosphere of Everyday Life (Activated)]

Kitahara Shin's grip on the sword changed.

He casually picked up a washed scallion and placed it on the portable cutting board.

"Shh, shh, shh."

The sound of chopping scallions was particularly clear on the empty dock. With each cut, the scallions were as thin as cicada wings, and the aroma of the white scallions exploded in the cold wind.

The spring was stunned.

When you see Kitahara Shin on TV, he's always holding either a gun or an ashtray.

Now, seeing him wearing a trench coat and intently chopping scallions, there's an inexplicable charm to this incongruity.

The water has boiled.

The noodles went into the pot, the prawns turned red, and the shiitake mushrooms soaked up the broth.

Kitahara Shin sprinkled in a handful of bonito flakes and freshly chopped green onions, then turned off the heat.

A rich aroma of seafood broth, mixed with the sweetness of scallions, forcefully entered the spring water's nostrils.

"Take it."

Kitahara Shin ladled out a large bowl and handed it to her. It wasn't a disposable paper bowl, but a thick ceramic one, and it even came with a pair of wooden chopsticks.

The spring water was held in both hands, forming a bowl.

The steam rising up made her eyes sting.

She sat on the hood of the car, ignoring the heat, and took a big gulp of soup.

"Well……"

fresh.

An indescribable deliciousness slid down my throat, like a warm hand gently soothing the tiny wounds on my vocal cords.

Next up are the noodles.

It's chewy, smooth, and soaked in broth.

[Special Effect: Eliminates Fatigue]

[Special Effects Take Effect: Soothes Anxiety]

After a few sips, Quanshui felt the soreness that had accumulated in his shoulders and back over the past few days being expelled with his sweat. The fear that had been weighing on his mind about "whether he could become famous" and "whether he could sing well" was also washed away by this bowl of hot soup.

"Is it tasty?"

Kitahara Shin leaned against the car door, holding a small bowl himself, looking at the sea.

"tasty."

Quanshui buried her head in her food and ate with gusto, completely forgetting about maintaining her usual ladylike image. "It's even better than what I ate back home... no, this is the best udon noodles I've ever had."

She looked up, a little soup still on her lips, her eyes sparkling in the darkness.

"Mr. Kitahara, how come I didn't know you could cook? Did you work in a kitchen before?"

I guess so.

Kitahara Shin smiled and brandished the knife in his hand.

After drinking another sip of the soup, Quanshui felt warm all over.

She looked at the dark sea in the distance, then at the man beside her who always managed to surprise her.

The oppressive atmosphere in the recording studio and Daiki Nagato's furious roars seemed to belong to another world.

At this moment, there is only the sound of the waves and this bowl of hot soup that can save lives.

"Want more?" Kitahara Shin pointed to the pot.

"Yes!" Quanshui handed over the empty bowl without hesitation. "And two more prawns!"