Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C55

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Chapter 55: The First Pot of Gold

was experiencing an unusually warm winter this year, with barely any snowfall to speak of—what little fell melted almost instantly. Perhaps influenced by this mild climate, the cherry blossoms seemed poised to bloom earlier than usual. By the second week of March, Michiko could already spot tiny white and pink buds on the roadside . Just like those buds eagerly preparing to greet spring, her anticipation to see her master grew uncontrollable.

She was only forty berries away from collecting a hundred. Though she didn’t fully understand why gathering them mattered, it was undeniably fun. Once she hit the target, she planned to explore new areas and even try talking to other players.

Lost in these thoughts, her excitement overshadowed the fatigue from her dance class. Soon, her mother dropped her off at the gates of Tokyo Eizo Broadcasting (TEB).

“I heard is moving time slots next season. This is a golden opportunity,” said, stopping her scooter. Turning to Michiko, she instructed, “Try inviting your master to dinner again. Let him pick the time, but make sure we have that meal together. When the moment comes, be mindful and charm him into giving you a good role. It’s crucial.”

Michiko’s cheerful mood dimmed significantly. Dismounting, she hung her helmet and murmured, “Master said he’s too busy. Asking again won’t change anything.”

“He has to eat sometime. Keep asking; eventually, he’ll agree.”

Michiko bit her lip, turning toward the building. But Ryoko grabbed her arm, her tone sharpening. “Did you hear me or not?!”

The girl’s face fell, her voice softening further. “I heard you, Mom. But he’s really swamped. Pressuring him will only trouble him more.”

Her honesty struck a chord. Even during casual conversations, Michiko had observed her master constantly writing—like a man possessed by a creative fervor. Ryoko’s expression softened as she patted Michiko’s head gently. “My dear, I know you dislike asking favors or socializing. But we don’t know many influential people in this industry—it’s unavoidable. Everything feels difficult at first, but once you’re famous, others will come to you. For now, bear with it, alright?”

After a pause, Michiko whispered, “I understand, Mom. I’ll ask him one more time.”

“Good girl. My life is set, but I’m counting on you. Work hard, don’t fear embarrassment or hardship—it’s all for your benefit. Understand?”

“Yes, I’ll do my best.”

“Go ahead then.” Ryoko adjusted Michiko’s collar, gazing fondly at her meticulously crafted daughter—the finest work of her life—and sent her off with satisfaction.

Once out of sight, Michiko took several deep breaths to steady herself before heading toward the production bureau annex. Along the way, she carefully avoided anyone who looked important, knowing well the vast gap between their statuses despite her own acting experience.

Reaching the annex lobby, she glanced up at the elevators—all ascending—and decided against waiting. Instead, she dashed to the fire escape stairs, where no one lingered. Taking two steps at a time while clutching her bag, she quickly ascended to the sixth floor, slowing down only after exiting the stairwell. With composed elegance, she made her way to the headquarters of Tales of the Unusual.

Upon entering, she greeted a passing clerk sweetly before heading straight for her master’s corner. Her spirits lifted until she rounded the screen to find Chihara engrossed in something on the computer, scribbling notes furiously in his shorthand notebook.

“Master, hello,” she greeted softly.

Chihara waved dismissively, signaling she needn’t stand on ceremony. He remained focused on the screen. Michiko hung her coat and bag, then stood beside him, eyes gleaming as they fixed on the monitor.

Chihara was browsing a financial forum—a recent discovery. Though internet users were scarce, the discussions here were far more substantive than the chaotic mix of opinions in 2019. Each post carried weight, and exchanges felt sincere yet restrained, offering clarity even to someone like Chihara, who was relatively new to finance.

He’d just received a bonus of 500,000 yen, bringing his total savings close to a million. With nearing its end, royalties awaited—an additional windfall. For the first time, he possessed capital to invest, having dug his proverbial “first pot of gold.” Armed with foresight, he intended to open an account and dabble in financial markets—a side hustle too lucrative to ignore.

As he read, however, he felt a tickle in his ear. Glancing sideways, he saw Michiko staring intently at the screen. Chuckling, he stood up. “Almost forgot. Go ahead, play.”

Her face lit up, though she feigned politeness. “No, no, Master should finish first. Work comes first.”

Chihara guessed sitting back down might frustrate her, so he moved to another desk instead. Smiling, he said, “You’ve got limited gaming time. I can wait till you’re done—it won’t delay anything.”

Since acquiring the computer, his working hours stretched later each night. Come next season, Murakami promised him a small office, prompting thoughts of installing a cot.

“Thank you, Master!” Michiko beamed genuinely, flashing a wide smile. “You’re so kind, Master. One day, I’ll repay you.”

Chihara smiled faintly, inwardly rolling his eyes. So she hadn’t considered repaying him before? How ungrateful!

Still, children were unpredictable. Their bond wasn’t formal, and such connections faded easily. Perhaps in ten years, this apprentice wouldn’t even remember him.

Seated again, he resumed writing while Michiko expertly opened . But she froze, blurting, “Where am I? Why am I here?”

Chihara chuckled, recalling his intervention. “I defeated the monster for you. No need to thank me.”

Flipping through his notebook, he tore out a page and handed it to her, pointing with his pen. “Don’t worry, I didn’t overstep. Playing games is personal enjoyment—I just couldn’t stand watching you wander aimlessly. Here’s an analysis I prepared. A mind map suggesting you focus on improving these three attributes. To achieve that, tackle these nine tasks. Two are interconnected, boosting efficiency. Completing one also nets an item useful later…”

He relished structured planning, explaining enthusiastically. Suddenly, he noticed moisture spreading across the paper. Looking closer, he saw tears streaming silently down Michiko’s cheeks, large droplets soaking the sheet. Embarrassed, he hesitated. “I’m sorry… Did I meddle too much?”

Wiping her tears hastily, Michiko whispered, “No, I’m grateful just to play. Please continue, Master. I’ll follow your advice.”

Inside, she felt inexplicably hurt, though she dared not resist lest she be dismissed.

This place was her sole sanctuary.

Chihara paused, realizing his mistake. His intentions were good—he merely wanted to help—but meddling in her game clearly upset her. After a moment, he crumpled the mind map and tossed it into the trash. Accepting fault, he sighed. “I apologize. It was wrong of me to interfere with your account. This is your game, not mine.”

Startled, Michiko looked up, feeling misunderstood. She blushed slightly. “It’s okay, Master.”

“As long as you’re not upset.” Chihara returned to his desk, smiling. “Go back to collecting berries. Head west to return. I’ll keep quiet.”

“It’s my fault for being overly sensitive. You were trying to guide me—I see that now.” Michiko replied earnestly. Indeed, he hadn’t forced anything, merely offered suggestions. She’d overthought things.

Chihara nodded, saying nothing more. Soon, Michiko refocused on the game, intrigued by the new map. Abandoning berries, she ventured eastward again. After a while, she spoke softly. “Thank you, Master.”

“For what?”

“For defeating the monster… and helping me discover this path to the castle. There’s a maze here. Should I enter?”

Chihara shuffled over with his script. “Let’s take a look together.”

“Together.”

They deliberated briefly, enjoying the camaraderie. Ultimately, they agreed entering now wasn’t ideal—better to strengthen her character first. Primitive online games lacked team systems, resembling single-player experiences with chatroom functionality.

Surprisingly, Chihara began embracing his role as a mentor, guiding Michiko daily. Unlike her usual lethargic demeanor, she proved eager to learn, rushing to “class” each day as if chased by dogs. Half a week flew by, and filming for Season 1 wrapped entirely. The wrap-up ceremony was scheduled for the afternoon.

Summoned back to the studio, Chihara reluctantly paused his “teaching” duties. Superstition ran rampant in television production—an industry rife with unpredictability—and such rituals demanded attendance.

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