MMB Chapter 238 The Theater Counterattack: A Green Tide
Chapter 238 The Theater Counterattack: A Green Tide
Chapter 238 The Theater Counterattack: A Green Tide
A secluded teahouse in Ginza, Tokyo.
Kitahara Shin picked up the rough earthenware teacup in front of him and gently blew on it to cool it down. Sitting opposite him was Fujiwara, the building materials tycoon.
It had been some time since he had run into this old fox. Both sides were well aware that Fujiwara had leaked the movie's release schedule to the conglomerate behind his back, but neither of them had taken the initiative to break the silence.
"Kitahara-kun, you've been incredibly busy lately." Fujiwara smiled and poured some tea for Kitahara Shin. "I heard you went to Musashino and poured a lot of money into the anime industry? Young people just have so much energy."
"Just testing the waters," Kitahara Shin said calmly, setting down his teacup.
"Since Kitahara-kun is so ambitious, I happen to have a sure-fire way to make money here." Fujiwara leaned forward slightly, revealing his true intentions. "There's a piece of land in the port area where I plan to build a large-scale integrated entertainment complex. Kitahara-kun has so many celebrity resources and film and television rights, why not invest some cash and take a stake? It's not much, just two billion yen. Our interests will be aligned, and we'll be one family in Tokyo from now on."
To put it nicely, it's called investing; to put it bluntly, it's using the status of a "local bully" to openly demand tolls from Kitahara Shin.
Kitahara Shin looked at Fujiwara's smiling face, which concealed a knife, without the slightest anger, but only showed a very standard expression of regret.
"Mr. Fujiwara, this proposal is indeed very tempting." Kitahara Shin sighed, "but it's really unfortunate. As you know, I've recently expanded not only the surrounding physical factories, but also the offline stores at a frenzy. In addition, the bottomless pit of investing in that anime has completely drained the company's cash flow. Two billion yen—I can't even come up with two hundred million yen in spare cash right now."
Fujiwara's smile froze slightly.
He certainly didn't believe Kitahara Shin couldn't come up with the money. This was clearly a ruthless rejection.
"Kitahara-kun, don't be so absolute in your words." Fujiwara's smile faded as he picked up his teacup, his tone now carrying a hint of condescension. "I know you're close to Representative Kobayakawa. But you need to understand, the waters of Tokyo's twenty-three wards run very deep, and Kobayakawa alone can't make the decisions."
Fujiwara tapped his finger on the table: "I have influential friends at the headquarters of major conglomerates and banks. In this circle, having more friends means having more options. If you're willing to walk with me, your future will be much brighter. If you insist on walking alone in the dark—you can easily capsize in a ditch."
This is blatantly a combination of empty promises and threats.
"I've taken Mr. Fujiwara's reminder to heart." Kitahara Shin stood up, straightened the hem of his suit jacket, and his smile was devoid of warmth. "I'll definitely pay you a visit when the company has more funds. I have to go back to the film set to oversee the editing today, so I won't keep you any longer."
Watching Kitahara Shin turn and leave without hesitation, Fujiwara's face darkened completely, and he slammed his teacup heavily on the table.
Stepping out of the teahouse, a cold wind swept across the streets of Ginza.
Kitahara Shin got into the back seat of the car, his eyes instantly turning cold.
"Daejeon, drive."
He pulled out his heavy mobile phone from his pocket and dialed a number.
Now that they've completely broken off relations, he'll never let such a local bully lurk in the shadows and trip him up at any time.
The call was quickly connected, and a steady, gruff voice came through the receiver: "Boss."
It's Team Leader Gao Shan.
With Kitahara Shin's guidance and financial support, the former Takayama Group had long since gone legitimate and transformed into the highly reputable "Kitahara Security Company" in Tokyo. But while the swords on the surface were sheathed, their private intelligence network and spies from all walks of life never ceased to exist.
"Takayama, investigate someone." Kitahara Shin looked out the window at the receding street scene, his tone extremely cold. "Fujiwara from the building materials group. He's been acting very aggressively lately."
"Understood." Team Leader Gao Shan didn't waste any words. "How far do you want the boss to investigate?"
"Everything." Kitahara Shin's gaze was deep. "Dig up all his accounts, his mistresses, even how many times he's had dinner with executives of which conglomerates. Send a few smart men to keep an eye on him 24/7."
"Remember, don't touch him, and don't alert him. All I need is for you to hand over to me the complete incriminating evidence that could send him to jail."
"Leave it to me, boss. We're experts in this business."
After hanging up the phone, Kitahara Shin closed his eyes and leaned back in his leather seat. Dealing with an old fox like Fujiwara, a missed strike would bring endless trouble, so he either didn't make a move, or when he did, it had to be a fatal blow, a sure kill.
Late December.
The pre-sale channel for the "Bayside Shakedown" movie has officially opened amidst much anticipation and the indifference of various capital groups.
The film market at the same time was fiercely competitive. Hollywood action blockbusters dominated the majority of screenings, while several art films by veteran domestic directors were vying for awards.
When Kitahara Shin proclaimed his goal of "5 billion yen in box office revenue," the entire Japanese film industry was practically laughing at him.
"Why should a spin-off theatrical version of a midday TV drama sell for 5 billion?" This is the consensus among most film critics and theater executives.
The ridicule reached its peak when the screening schedule for the first day of pre-sales was released.
The conglomerate's covert pressure worked. Eighty percent of the screenings allocated to "The Great Investigation Line" by major cinema chains across the country were concentrated in "ghost screenings" at 8:00 AM and 11:30 PM.
However, the smiles on the faces of the theater managers lasted for less than fifteen minutes.
Tokyo, Oshima Bento Shop.
At 10:30 p.m., Kenichi Oshima turned off the exhaust fan in the store with a "snap," took off his apron, and waved to the dozen or so regular customers who were still in the store.
"Everyone, we're closing early today!" Kenichi Oshima patted his chest excitedly. "The Kitahara Office paid for the entire theater tonight, the premiere at 11:30 PM, it's on me! Let's go see how Shunsaku Aoshima takes down those executives on the big screen!"
"Let's go! I've been waiting for this day for so long!" The old man by the window put on a thick coat, looking quite energetic.
A large group of housewives and office workers leaving work walked out of the bento shop.
Meanwhile, in a dormitory near the University of Tokyo.
Ijuin Toru silently put on the military green M-51 trench coat. He zipped it up, touched the embroidered number "0732" on the inside of the collar, and glanced at the clock on the wall.
"Che, where are you going dressed like that in the middle of the night?" My roommate poked his head out from the top bunk.
-
"Let's go see a movie." Toru Ijuin pushed open the door. "It's the premiere today. If you buy a ticket with the internal serial number on your clothing, you can get a limited-edition souvenir from the Wangan Police Station."
My roommate paused for a moment, then jumped out of bed: "Damn, wait for me! I'm coming too!"
It's 11:15 p.m.
In the lobby of Shinjuku Toho Cinema, the cinema manager on duty stared wide-eyed at the massive crowd outside the door.
What should have been a quiet, deserted late-night time of day was now filled with a long queue outside the cinema. What made his scalp tingle even more was that nearly half of the people in the queue were young people, all wearing identical military green M-51 trench coats!
The military green uniforms, gathered together, resembled a disciplined army ready to charge in the dead of winter night.
"Manager—something's happened!" The ticket seller rushed over, sweating profusely, her voice trembling. "Our system just crashed. All tickets for the 8 AM and late-night shows of 'The Great Investigation' tomorrow and the day after—sold out in ten minutes! Not even the most secluded corner seats in the first row are left!"
"What did you say?!" The cinema manager snatched the data report, his hands trembling uncontrollably.
Not only in Shinjuku, but also in Shibuya, Ikebukuro, Osaka, Nagoya—midnight and morning screenings on premiere days across the country were completely sold out, with tickets in high demand!
Kitahara Shinko's seemingly worthless "ghost screenings" demonstrated to theaters across Japan what true "market frenzy" really means.
Housewives who held the reins of family finances dragged their husbands to the movie theater at eight in the morning; office workers and students deeply moved by the works of Tsingtao Junsaku stayed up all night to snag a ticket for a midnight showing.
The cinema manager looked at the audience in the lobby, who were anxiously complaining and waving banknotes because they couldn't buy tickets, and his shirt was instantly soaked with cold sweat.
Personal connections within conglomerates are indeed important.
But watching millions or tens of millions of dollars in cash flow slip away from their ticket windows was a painful experience that instantly shattered any remaining respect they had for the conglomerate.
"What are you all standing there for?!"
The cinema manager abruptly turned and roared at the scheduling manager, "Immediately remove that lousy Hollywood movie from tomorrow afternoon's prime time slot! Replace the largest theaters, Hall 1 and Hall 2, with 'The Great Detective'! Add more screenings immediately!"
Faced with absolute exorbitant profits and enormous market demand, the unspoken rules of the old era were brutally torn to shreds by this wave of military green frenzy.
The "ghost screening" miracle on the first day of pre-sales was just the beginning of this storm in film history.
For the next full week, the box office performance of the "Bayside Shakedown" movie followed an extremely unconventional curve, much to the disbelief of theater managers and financial tycoons across Japan.
The opening day box office was 120 million yen. This was an extremely low figure, squeezed out of the cracks, even though 80% of the screenings were in the morning and late at night, which were considered low-grossing events.
The next day, the movie schedules of major cinemas across Japan were completely changed.
No one turns down money. Looking at the packed audience, the conglomerate's underhanded pressure became worthless. (Afternoon session)
The prime-time evening slots and weekend slots were voluntarily cleared out by cinema managers to be entirely dedicated to "Bad Detective".
The first week has ended, and the data is in.
In the top-floor office of Kitahara's office, Ota Shoichi stared at the box office summary sheet in his hand and swallowed hard.
"President—first week's total: 1.45 billion yen." Ota's voice was a little shaky. "The highest record for a live-action film in Japanese history is just over 2 billion yen. At this rate, we'll break the record by next Wednesday at the latest."
"
Secretary Aida adjusted his glasses and looked directly at Kitahara Shin: "The downward trend is very stable. If we can maintain this attendance rate, your initial target of 5 billion yen will no longer be just empty talk, but something we can actually reach."
Kitahara Shin sat in the boss's chair, looking at the data, his expression still calm.
"This is just the first wave." He placed the summary table on the table. "Word-of-mouth will take time to spread. The real box office revenue will come from the long run of the film."
As it turned out, his judgment was extremely accurate.
As the box office soared, related physical industries also experienced a boom. Not only did the limited edition M-51 military green windbreaker, with only 10,000 pieces available, sell out, but also the same mug from the Wangan Police Station, the nylon briefcase often used by Aoshima Shunsaku, and even the golf club cover worn by the chief in the drama were all snapped up.
The key point is that these peripheral products are not industrial waste that simply prints a logo and exploits fans.
Kitahara Shin has extremely strict quality control. Many ordinary people who haven't seen the movie, after touching the material of the nylon bag in the store, immediately bought it as a commuting item. This reputation for "value for money" has enabled Kitahara Shin's peripheral industries to truly leap from "movie merchandise" to "national brand".
Faced with the unreasonable money-making speed of "Bayside Shakedown," the first to feel uneasy were the established film companies and screenwriters in the industry.
They were incredibly curious. How could a crime drama with a midday rating of only 17.8% generate such terrifying box office potential on the big screen, aiming for a staggering 5 billion?
As a result, countless top screenwriters and veteran producers, wearing hats and masks, secretly bought tickets and went to the cinema.
Two hours later, they came out looking puzzled.
-
"The plot is indeed perfect, and the interplay between the main and supporting storylines is solid." A screenwriter who has won numerous awards stood at the theater entrance, his brow furrowed. "But—it doesn't have anything particularly outstanding. It lacks the grand special effects of Hollywood, and there are no earth-shattering plot twists. It simply solidifies the core of a TV series."
They racked their brains but still couldn't understand why this "not-so-fancy" content could trigger a nationwide frenzy.
They will never understand that Kitahara Shin's narrative intuition, enhanced by the system [Ink Mark Seal], and the deep bond he built with the audience through the twelve-episode TV series and various merchandise, were the real killer weapons.
Of course, some people see things very clearly in this green craze that has swept across Japan.
Late at night, inside a high-class izakaya in Roppongi.
Yosuke Eguchi and Toshiaki Karasawa were clinking beer glasses.
"That guy, he's a monster now." Yosuke Eguchi took a big gulp of beer, recalling what he'd seen at the theater earlier that day. "I used to think he was just a great actor. Fifty billion yen—that's like one person tearing the ceiling off the entire Japanese film market."
Toshiaki Karasawa smiled and shook his head: "Did you see his scene with Muroi at the end of the film? That look in his eyes, that aura, has already left us who are still figuring out how to win the lead role in prime time far behind. He is now the one playing the game."
Meanwhile, at another movie theater in Shibuya.
-
Takuya Kimura pulled his baseball cap low and sat alone in the last row of the theater. The movie had ended, but the end credits song was still playing, yet he remained seated for a long time.
In recent years, he has been extremely popular under the strong promotion of Johnny's Entertainment and has been hailed as a "top-tier" star. He originally thought that he had the ability to compete with Kitahara Shin.
But seeing the scene of people of all ages and genders standing up and applauding all around him today, Takuya Kimura felt a deep sense of powerlessness.
Everyone's sprinting towards the top tier, but Shin Kitahara has already transcended that circle. He's mobilizing national sentiment, defying traditional conglomerate rules, and aiming for the 5 billion yen box office record. That mountain is too high.
At the same time, inside a quiet mansion in Setagaya Ward.
Sayuri Yoshinaga had just finished watching the theatrical version videotape that her assistant had brought her.
She turned off the TV, walked to the window, and a satisfied smile appeared on her face.
"They really did it."
She murmured softly. She recalled the sharp-eyed young man on the set of "Flower of Evil," whom she had originally intended to pass on her old connections to.
-
But now it seems she underestimated him. Kitahara Shin not only has the ability to maintain resources, but he also possesses the power to overturn the old order and reshape the entire entertainment and financial landscape.
"It seems I should get those old bones moving and pave the way for this child a bit more." Yoshinaga Sayuri turned around, her eyes sparkling with anticipation for the future.