Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 37 The Golden Screen: The Execution Tape

The hum of electricity echoed through the enormous Peacock Hall.

Hundreds of eyes were fixed on the stage.

Kanai Toshihiko maintained that forward-leaning, concerned posture. His hand hovered in mid-air, only centimeters away from Nakamori Akina's hand.

His facial expression was that of a perfectly "forgiving boyfriend," but his eyes held a dagger, a silent threat: Read the script quickly, don't try anything funny.

Akina didn't look at him.

Her gaze pierced through the blinding spotlight and landed on a point in the void.

At that moment, she remembered how Kitahara Shin repeatedly corrected her gaze in the apartment.

"Laugh like you're watching a clown."

And then she actually smiled.

That was extreme contempt, the most direct mockery of the farce unfolding before them.

"that……"

Kanai felt uneasy at that smile and instinctively wanted to take over the conversation, "Akina is probably just too nervous, everyone give her some time..."

"tolerate?"

A cold voice abruptly cut off Jin Jing's performance.

Akina picked up the microphone in front of her. Her hand was steady.

She turned her head and looked at Jin Jing. Those eyes, which used to be filled with tears and adoration, were now as cold as ice.

"Mr. Kanai just said that he would tolerate all my whims."

Akina's voice, amplified through the microphone, echoed throughout the banquet hall, "So, may I ask, what you mean by 'tolerance' is using my hard-earned money to cover the enormous gambling debts you incurred at underground casinos?"

In short, it was like pouring a ladle of cold water into a pot of boiling oil.

boom--!

A brief silence fell over the scene.

All the reporters were stunned. Their pens froze in mid-air, and they even forgot to press the shutter.

Gambling debts?

Underground casino?

This isn't in the script.

The smile on Jin Jing's face instantly froze, like a cracked mask.

"Akina, what nonsense are you spouting?" He lowered his voice, a hint of panic and ruthlessness in his tone. "Are you crazy? That was just an excuse you made up to help you pay off your family's debts..."

Is it still going on?

Akina sighed softly.

She lowered her head and took something out of the black handbag on her lap.

It's not a tissue, and it's not an apology letter.

Instead, it was a black, brick-like portable recorder.

The moment he saw that thing, Kanai's pupils contracted sharply.

He recognized the tape recorder. It was the one he used when he was forced to give a statement at the underground money exchange…

"Don't you all want to know the truth?"

Akina placed the recorder on the table, directly in front of the microphone.

"No! Don't..." Jin Jing suddenly stood up and reached out to grab it.

But Akina was faster.

Her finger pressed firmly on the triangular play button.

"Click".

A burst of background noise came from the background: the sound of mahjong tiles clattering and a man's rude shouts.

Immediately afterwards, a voice familiar throughout Japan, usually gentle and refined, boomed out in front of the golden screen, tinged with drunkenness and arrogance:

"...Huh? Marriage? Don't be ridiculous! That's just a show for the media!"

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

The flashbulbs started going off like crazy, so fast it was almost blinding. The reporters pushed forward like madmen.

Jin Jing's face turned deathly pale instantly. He opened his mouth wide, wanting to scream, but his voice sounded so weak amidst the loud playback of the recording.

The recording continues, each sentence like a heavy blow:

"That woman is a spineless coward. All I have to do is mention her dying grandmother and scare her sister who wants to go to school, and she trembles with fear, doing whatever I tell her to do."

"Shut it down! It's fake! It's fabricated!"

Jin Jing finally broke down.

He disregarded his image, circled around the chair, and lunged at Akina, wanting to smash that damn machine.

But he forgot that hundreds of cameras were pointed at him at that moment.

His grotesque, twisted face and furious actions were broadcast live throughout Japan without reservation.

Akina did not dodge.

She sat there, watching Jin Jing pounce on her, as if she were watching a mad dog.

Her hand was protectively placed beside the tape recorder.

At this point, the recording reached its climax:

"This kind of woman was born to step on people like me! Once this debt is settled, I'll just throw her away like trash! Hahahaha..."

The ear-piercing, maniacal laughter, combined with Jin Jing's distorted face, was utterly absurd.

"Security! Where's the security! Take this crazy woman away!" Kanai roared, reaching out to grab Akina's hair.

"stop!"

Several senior reporters in the front row could no longer stand it and instinctively rushed forward to protect Akina.

But they don't need to do anything.

Akina suddenly stood up.

She suddenly threw a stack of documents in her hand—copies of IOUs taken from underground banks—at Jin Jing's face!

"Splash—"

Paper fluttered everywhere, like white snowflakes, falling gently in front of the golden screen.

"Are you going to throw away the trash?"

Akina's voice was no longer calm; it was the bursting of anger that had been suppressed for too long.

She pointed to the evidence scattered on the ground, stared into Jin Jing's eyes, and said, word by word:

"Then let's see clearly who the real trash is!"

This is no longer an apology meeting.

This is an execution.

Kanai Toshihiko was stunned by the "paper snow" that hit him head-on.

A piece of paper happened to float down and land on the red velvet tablecloth in front of him.

The high-definition camera lens captured the above content with extreme sensitivity.

IOU.

Even in black and white copies, the striking figure of "eighty million yen" and Toshihiko Kanai's unique cursive signature, which has appeared on countless signature boards, are still clearly visible.

"That...that is..."

Jin Jing stared at the paper, his pupils trembling violently.

Of course he recognized where it came from—it belonged to an underground bank!

"Eighty million yen."

Akina Nakamori's voice pierced the deathly silence.

She stood there, her chest heaving violently, but her eyes were frighteningly bright.

"That's why you want me to 'get married'."

She pointed to the mess on the floor, "Just because you lost money gambling in the underground casino and embezzled company funds. If we don't find a scapegoat to cover this mess, you'll be dragged by the underworld to fill cement!"

"Shut up! Stop talking! That's not true!"

Jin Jing screamed in despair, reaching out to cover the IOU on the table, trying to block the greedy cameras, "This is a forgery! You framed me!"

"Framed?"

Akina sneered, "Your autograph, your fingerprint, and what you just admitted in the recording—were those also part of my setup?"

She turned to the camera, no longer looking at the man who was already rambling incoherently.

At this moment, she is a judge pronouncing a verdict.

"Everyone is asking me why I did something stupid."

Akina took a deep breath, her voice choked with emotion yet full of strength, "The agency threatened me with my grandmother's life-saving medication and intimidated me with my sister's future. They forced me to admit I had a mental illness and forced me to pour all the filth on myself so that this 'perfect idol' could continue to shine on stage."

She paused for a moment at this point.

The image of that night flashed through her mind, of Kitahara Shin holding her hand and saying, "As long as you need fire, there's oil. I'll help you."

Akina looked up and stared directly at the camera.

"I don't want to die, I've been forced to the point where I can't live anymore."

"But today... I want to live."

Even if I lose everything, I will live a life of integrity!

This shout, like a thunderclap, completely shattered the last vestiges of pretense before the golden screen.

"Aaaaaahh ...

Toshihiko Kanai has completely lost his mind.

Shame, fear, anger—all these emotions transformed into the most primal impulse of violence at that moment.

Since it's all over, let's all die together!

He grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray from the table and, with a ferocious expression, smashed it down on Akina's head: "I'm going to kill you! You bitch! I'm going to kill you!"

"Watch out!!" a reporter in the front row screamed in terror.

But Akina didn't dodge.

She simply watched him silently. She had won her gamble; the man had finally revealed his ugliest true colors.

Just as the ashtray was about to smash down—

"Bang!"

Several hot-blooded male reporters who had been unable to contain themselves, and even the security guards who were maintaining order, rushed onto the stage at the same time and tackled Kanai to the ground like rugby players!

"Let me go! I'm Kanai! I'm a big star! You lowly people!"

Jin Jing was pressed firmly onto the red carpet, his cheek pressed against the copy of the IOU, writhing and howling wildly like a mangy dog ​​whose spine had been removed.

The ashtray rolled to the ground and stopped at Akina's feet.

Akina looked down at the man at her feet, a man she once looked up to and feared.

At this moment, he was so ugly, so pitiful.

She slowly crouched down, and amidst the chaotic crowd and flashing lights, looked directly into Jin Jing's bloodshot eyes.

"Mr. Kanai."

Her voice was very soft, so soft that only the two of them could hear it.

"The play is over."

"Let's take our final bows."

Nourishes—

The live broadcast signal was finally forcibly cut off, and the television screen turned into static.

But in that final, frozen frame, viewers across Japan saw that incredibly impactful composition—

Behind it was a gleaming golden screen, a symbol of lies.

On the ground are idols pressed into the dust, their faces unrecognizable.

The woman in the middle, dressed in a dark gray suit, stood tall amidst the ruins, like an avenger returned from hell.