mijobooks Chapter 53 The Growing Pains of Transformation
Chapter 53 The Growing Pains of Transformation
"Smack."
A thick stack of printed papers was thrown onto the slightly worn desk in the Daejeon office, raising a cloud of fine dust.
"This is the seventh book this week."
Ota paced back and forth, his leather shoes clicking rapidly on the floor. His face, which had been flushed from the success of "Yakuza Blood," was now etched with anxiety.
"From Toei, Daiei, and even Shochiku. The offers are getting higher and higher, with the highest reaching eight million."
Kitahara Shin sat on the sofa, casually flipping through the pile of scripts in his hand.
The titles on the covers are shocking: "Shinjuku Serial Killer", "The Young Man from Hell", "Meat Grinder", and "Outrage".
Turning to the inside pages, all the descriptions are the same: "face full of scars", "fierce eyes", "roaring like a mad dog", "rushing into the crowd with a machete".
"Not really."
Kitahara Shin closed the script and casually tossed it back into the mountain of waste paper.
"My goodness, that's eight million!" Ota stopped and came closer with a bitter face. "I know you want to choose scripts, but it's been a month, and you've turned down all twenty scripts that have been sent to you. There's a lot of talk going on in the industry now. People are saying that you've become famous and don't know who you are anymore. Some even say that you were just lucky to play Sawada, and that you're nothing without director Fukasaku."
"Ota-san."
Kitahara Shin pulled a mint from his pocket, unwrapped it, and pointed to the pile of scripts on the table. "If I take on any of these now, even just one, the audience's first reaction will always be, 'Oh, that mad dog is out biting people again.'"
Once you're labeled a character actor, it's like a death sentence in this industry. Playing villains for a lifetime might make money, but that's not what he wants.
"Could you suggest a different type for me?"
Kitahara Shin chewed the candy in his mouth, the cool taste spreading in his mouth. "Next, I'll only look for romance movies or other relatively peaceful genres, preferably pure love dramas that can make people cry their eyes out."
"ha?!"
Ota's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he sized up Kitahara Shin's face, which, even in a relaxed state, exuded a cold and imposing aura. "You? Pure love? Do you want to scare the female lead to tears?"
Ignoring his agent's questions, Kitahara Shin picked up his coat and stood up. "I'm going to clear my head. Contact me again if you get any scripts like that."
……
Jimbocho.
This is Tokyo's largest street of used bookstores, a rare place in this bustling city where one can catch their breath.
The afternoon sun shone through the gaps between the bookshelves, illuminating the dust particles floating in the air. There was no Roppongi perfume here, only the musty smell and ink fragrance unique to aged paper.
Kitahara Shin pulled his baseball cap down low and wandered aimlessly between the cramped shops.
He was trying to get a feel for things and maybe even find some useful "little gadgets".
He has too much "aggressive energy" about him.
That was a side effect of long-term use of equipment and psychological suggestion to prepare for playing Sawada and Kikuchi.
So much so that now when he walks down the street, if he frowns even slightly, passing children will instinctively hide behind him.
To act well in a love story, you have to remove these thorns first.
He casually walked into a few shops without rushing to look around.
I first stood for a while in a shop that specializes in old movie magazines and flipped through a few copies of "Kinema Junpo" from the 30s.
Looking at the older generation in those black and white films, their pure gazes eased his tense nerves a little.
Then I went to a photography book store and looked through a picture book about the snow scenery of Hokkaido.
A vast expanse of white, clean and silent. He stared at the photos for a long time, even spacing out for a while.
Doing these things isn't some kind of mystical practice; it's simply a way to pass the time and calm the restlessness and inexplicable anger within.
Half an hour later, he stopped in front of an old shop called "Bunnodo".
He squatted down in the clearance section by the entrance, which was piled with unwanted junk and old books, all priced at "one hundred dollars each".
Kitahara Shin casually fiddled with it.
A cookbook with missing pages, an unidentified landscape calendar, and several yellowed shoujo manga...
He moved slowly, as if he was enjoying the tedious process of browsing Taobao.
Thanks to the slow pace of life he had just enjoyed, he felt much better now...
Then...
His fingertips touched a faded pink.
It was a locked diary at the very bottom, the lock long since rusted and broken. The pink cover had turned white from dampness, and there were a few faded heart-shaped stickers on it, vaguely recognizable as the style of shoujo manga from that era.
Among a pile of dusty old books, it stood out conspicuously, yet it exuded a poignant sense of antiquity.
Kitahara Shin was a little curious, so he reached out and pulled it out.
The moment my fingertips touched the cover, that familiar, long-lost tingling sensation traveled through my nerves.
[Found an equipable item (white, special)]
【Item Name: The Love Diary of a Faded Idol】
[Original owner: Asao, a legendary figure from the 70s. She was once the dream girl of every man in Japan, but at the peak of her life at 21, she resolutely retired for her "left-handed" boyfriend. She thought it was the beginning of a fairy tale, but little did she know it was the prelude to a nightmare.]
[Status: Filled with regret and longing (dried tear stains between the pages)]
[Basic Attributes: When worn, reduces "aggressiveness" in the eyes by 80% and increases "fragility" by 30%.]
[Special term: Unspoken confession (passive)]
Note: She poured all her love into her diary, but never had the chance to give it to that person. After equipping this item, when you look at someone of the opposite sex, your gaze will automatically carry a cautious, hesitant quality, as if you're about to touch them but then withdraw your hand. Viewers will subconsciously perceive you as a deeply affectionate and gentle person.
"Wanting to touch it, but then pulling my hand back..."
Kitahara Shin gently stroked the rough cover, a slight smile playing on his lips.
This is precisely the quality he lacks most right now.
I just didn't expect it to be the diary of a generation's idol... It seems I'm still lucky today.
Or has it always been good?
"Boss, how much is this?"
The old man who had been dozing behind the counter raised his eyelids, glanced at the tattered diary, and said, "That one... everything in that box is worth a hundred dollars. Take it."
Kitahara Shin took out a coin and placed it on the counter, then put the diary into his pocket.
Stepping out of the bookstore, the wind on the street seemed to soften a bit.
He found a park bench, sat down, and put the "Unspoken Confession" into his inventory.
In my mind, it was as if a girl in a white dress with a Hime-style haircut was sighing softly.
The muscle memory that was originally tense and ready to attack began to relax, like a piece of solid ice slowly melting in warm water.
He looked up and saw a couple arguing on the side of the road.
In the past, he would have subconsciously analyzed whether the man's body language was threatening and calculated the best angle to subdue him.
But now, his gaze softened.
The gaze no longer held scrutiny, but rather a compassionate acceptance, as if looking at two children who clumsily loved each other yet hurt each other.
Just then, a young girl carrying flyers walked by and accidentally bumped into his knee.
"I'm sorry!" The girl was startled. She looked up and saw a man wearing a hat. Her body instinctively shrank back, thinking she was going to be scolded.
Kitahara Shin caught the flyer that was about to fall.
He took off his sunglasses, and those eyes that had once given countless viewers nightmares now curved into a beautiful shape, with a gentle lake-like depths in them.
"It's okay."
His voice was gentle, like the afternoon sun in late autumn. "Be careful when you walk."
The girl froze. Her face flushed, and she even forgot to say thank you. Clutching the flyer, she ran away in a panic, but after a few steps, she couldn't help but look back.
That look in her eyes... was so gentle, and so heartbreaking.
Kitahara Shin put his sunglasses back on and leaned back in his chair.
He took out his mobile phone from his pocket and dialed Daejeon's number.
"Ota-san."
Da Tian wailed on the other end of the phone, "What's it about this time?"
Although Kitahara Shin initially acted very honestly, as expected, once someone becomes famous, all sorts of demands arise.
Wouldn't it be better to just stick to making honest films about the underworld? Da Tian just hoped he wouldn't make any more outrageous demands of him.
"Keep an eye on Fuji TV's activities for me."
Kitahara Shin didn't directly reveal the drama's title, but instead gave a direction: "I heard that their producer, Ota Ryo, is currently preparing a new drama and seems to be looking for scripts for the 'Getsu-9' slot. Could you help me find out if there are any manga adaptations or urban romance scripts?"
"Da Tianliang? That 'Godfather of Trending Dramas'?" Da Tian asked skeptically. "He only uses idol stars, there's no need for actors like us with real talent..."
"Anyway, please go and find out first."
Kitahara Shin hung up the phone and gently patted the pink diary on his chest.
He remembered clearly that the phenomenal film "Tokyo Love Story" was about to be launched and casting would begin around this time.
Since you're going to change your image, then go and act in a drama that can make all of Japan believe in love in this era when the bubble is about to burst.