Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C75

Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.

Thank you.

Everyone from

Chapter 75: Today, the Wind Sounds troubled

In the adjacent room, Murakami Iori's eyes darted across a series of monitors. She was pleased with how the first round of footage had turned out. The participant they were filming clearly believed the setup—her reactions were genuine and unguarded.

She picked up her walkie-talkie to coordinate the next phase. “Camera teams two and four, roll your cameras. The target is about to leave. Team three, get into position.”

The street-level camera crews and actors confirmed receipt of her instructions. Meanwhile, Konoe Hitomi leaned toward , whispering in admiration, “Chihara-sensei, this show is so intriguing! It’s going to be fantastic.”

Chihara tilted his head slightly, a small smile breaking through as he glanced at her. He knew exactly what she was angling for—she wanted in on the action. Her ambition was practically spilling over, and it wasn’t hard to see that she was itching to step in front of the lens.

It wasn’t entirely out of the question, but now wasn’t the time. Pretending not to notice, Chihara replied smoothly, “The real magic happens in post-production.”

This was still the early days of the production, and as one of its key figures, he needed to set an example. Any hint of casualness from him would trickle down to the rest of the crew, potentially leading to chaos. So for now, Hitomi, who everyone considered his “right-hand person,” would have to stay put. No unnecessary misunderstandings could be allowed to arise, especially when the temptation to join in might spread like wildfire.

This was work, after all—not play. Even if the project thrilled him, he wouldn’t volunteer himself for a cameo.

Hitomi’s attempt to nudge her way into the spotlight failed. She didn’t dare push further and instead watched the monitors enviously. Oh, how she longed to be on screen! To act!

While they’d been chatting, the young woman and her friend exited the “.” As soon as they reached the ground floor, her friend announced she needed the restroom, leaving the girl to wait outside alone.

As she stood there, she noticed someone waiting at the crosswalk across the street. She barely registered him at first, glancing away almost immediately. But then something made her whip her head back around with such force that even the people watching through the cameras flinched—it was as if she feared snapping her own neck.

Her eyes widened in shock. A gray coat, black sweatpants, a black knit cap, a red-and-black single-shoulder bag… and easily 177cm tall. Wasn’t this the fugitive? No—wait, wasn’t this her soulmate?!

My future husband?! Just five minutes ago, she’d been thinking about keeping an eye out for him this year. And here he was already?

Unbelievable.

She stared dumbfounded as her “future husband” crossed the street and turned a corner, heading away from her. After hesitating for a moment, she called out, panic rising in her voice, “Um… excuse me! Could you wait just a second?”

The young man stopped mid-step, turning back with a puzzled expression. “Are you talking to me?”

“Yes, sorry to bother you,” she stammered, her face flushing pink. She shuffled closer, covering her mouth self-consciously, worried about showing her teeth. Hesitant, she asked, “Excuse me, are you type O blood?”

The young man gave a convincing performance, furrowing his brow in confusion. Seeing his reaction, the girl grew flustered. Asking a stranger about their blood type did sound a little unhinged, so she quickly explained, “I know it sounds crazy, but I just got my fortune told. They said I’d meet my destined partner right away—someone who’s 177cm tall, has type O blood, is wearing a gray coat, black sweatpants, a black knit hat, and carrying a red-and-black shoulder bag. That’s exactly you!”

As she spoke, she stole glances at his face. To her surprise, he was quite handsome. Her heart skipped a beat, and her cheeks burned even brighter. With earnest sincerity, she added, “Please believe me—I’m not lying. The fortune-telling booth is upstairs, behind me. You can come check if you don’t believe me… I’m not trying to drum up business for them or anything, but it really feels like they’re onto something.”

Five hundred yen seemed too cheap. Fifty thousand yen would’ve been more appropriate! This was insane!

The young man studied her quietly, his initial confusion fading. After a pause, he said, “Ah, I see. No need to go back. I’m also interested in divination. I trust you—I am type O. So does that mean we’re fated to be together?”

The girl’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson. Today’s wind felt oddly lively, swirling cherry blossoms dancing in the air. The surge of happiness overwhelmed her, making her feel dizzy with joy. Just as she was about to ask for his contact information, another voice interrupted from behind her.

“Sorry to eavesdrop, but… I think I match the description too. I’m type O as well.”

Startled, the girl whipped around. There stood a middle-aged man in his forties, roughly the same height, wearing a gray coat, black sweatpants, a black knit hat, and a red-and-black shoulder bag. From the side, though, his head appeared bald—or at least partially bald.

Her face went pale. She looked back at the younger man, then at the older one, unsure what to do. What was going on? Why had she encountered two supposed soulmates at once—one of whom was bald? She was only twenty-five!

For a moment, she didn’t know what to say, her expression a whirlwind of emotions. Without hesitation, the younger man stepped forward, bowing deeply and extending his hand. Following the script, he declared sincerely, “Even though we’ve just met, I believe this is fate. Please go out with me!”

Not to be outdone, the balding man bowed as well, mirroring the gesture. “I think I’m your true match. This is divine guidance! Please give me a chance to make you happy.”

There they stood, both bowing and extending their hands, creating an awkward yet surreal scene. The girl shifted uncomfortably, glancing left and right, her hand pressed lightly against her mouth. Slowly, her expression morphed into one of disbelief. What in the world was happening? Sure, the fortune-teller said she’d meet her soulmate, but having two strangers ask her out at once? This wasn’t part of the plan!

And why were there two men confessing to her? This wasn’t the romantic encounter she’d imagined…

This… this was ridiculous!

Before she could respond, a group of people burst onto the scene, cameras rolling. One man holding a microphone approached, calling out, “Excuse us! We’re from the show . Today’s experiment explores whether women will bravely approach someone identified as their destined partner by a fortune-teller. Your courage is truly inspiring. May we ask…”

---

Back at the temporary command center, Murakami Iori was issuing orders via walkie-talkie. “Turn off the cameras, then deliver the gifts immediately. Apologize sincerely and explain everything clearly. Make sure she doesn’t leave feeling upset. Have her friend help clarify that this is part of a prearranged variety show shoot—it’s all for effect. Got it?”

“Got it!” came the reply.

Murakami exhaled, reviewing the footage again. Turning to Chihara, she asked, “Chihara, do you think this material works?”

“It’ll do,” he replied thoughtfully. “With some editing, it should be effective.”

Murakami agreed. She was already envisioning the final cut, imagining how viewers might react. While audience reception was unpredictable, the clip struck her as amusing enough. In entertainment, fun was the ultimate goal—depth was optional.

Satisfied with the day’s progress, she marked the clip as “usable.” If nothing better came along later, this segment would make it into the episode.

Grabbing the walkie-talkie again, she commanded, “Notify team two to bring the participants over. Everyone reset positions—we’re doing another take!”

---

For the rest of the day, the crew repeated the process, experiencing both successes and failures. Alongside the filming, Murakami and Chihara brainstormed ways to expand the program, their enthusiasm palpable. Murakami’s relentless passion for her work never ceased to impress.

By evening, they had gathered three usable clips. Back at the studio, selecting and editing the best two would complete roughly a third of the episode. Murakami left some staff behind to transform the “Mysterious Fortune-Telling Hut” into an “” for the third episode.

Tomorrow’s shoot would rely entirely on scripted performances—a heartfelt storyline featuring a single mother raising two daughters. The elder daughter, sweet and considerate, tugged at heartstrings. At the mother’s request, the production team sent fake lottery tickets for a free amusement park visit. Through a series of staged wins, the girl would receive her favorite toys, new clothes, and a luxurious French dinner. The climax featured a tearful mother-daughter exchange, boosting the show’s emotional resonance. All performed by hired actors following the script.

Of course, viewers didn’t need to know any of this—they simply needed to feel moved. Emotional manipulation was the name of the game.

After wrapping up loose ends, Murakami loaded the crew and equipment into vans bound for the station. Chihara, however, decided against returning. Not far from , he opted to head home directly rather than detour. Murakami would likely return to review work at the studio anyway, making his presence unnecessary.

He bid her farewell and ambled off, his mind no longer on Human Observation. Instead, he mulled over ideas for the summer blockbuster. Once committed, there was no turning back—such decisions required careful deliberation.

Lost in thought, he boarded a train to his neighborhood. Walking briskly, he barely noticed the world until movement ahead caught his attention. Looking up, he saw a balding man harassing a young woman. To his surprise, he recognized her, it was aloof beauty from the high school trio.

What was her name again? Ah yes, Futazeno.

Recognizing her as a familiar face—and seeing the audacity of the harasser in broad daylight—Chihara quickened his pace, calling out, “Futazeno-san, is everything alright?”

turned, relief washing over her features as she spotted him. “Chihara-sensei?!”

Caught off guard, the balding man also turned, recognizing Chihara. “Chihara-sensei? Long time no see. How have you been?”

If you like this project, please rate or leave a review for this novel through the link below, thank you.

https://www.novelupdates.com/series/absolute-number-one/

Join our discord you will receive update notification

If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.

All the tiers provide an off-line reading experience

Tier 1: 10 Advance chapters

Access fee $3.00 Monthly