Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C94

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

Thank you.

Everyone from Otaku Translation

Chapter 94: I Owe You a Big Favor

Chihara Rinto turned to see Nagano Teppei, the half-bald president of Ishimoto Bridge Talent Agency—the same man who had tried to recruit Futazeno Seiko as a model. Surprised, he stood up and asked, “Nagano-senpai, what are you doing here?”

Nagano chuckled. “I was about to ask you the same thing, Chihara-sensei. My house is nearby.” He waved casually at the ramen stall owner. “Kasai, the usual.”

The stall owner nodded. Chihara gestured to an empty seat. “If you don’t mind, Nagano-senpai, please join us.”

Nagano laughed heartily. “Then this meal’s on me.”

“That’s not necessary,” Chihara replied, unwilling to freeload. But Nagano leaned in conspiratorially. “Don’t worry—I can put it on credit. If Kasai dies before I pay, the debt disappears. Might as well enjoy it while we can.”

Perhaps because he was off-duty or simply comfortable in his neighborhood, Nagano shed his usual cautious demeanor, cracking jokes with ease. Without waiting for further refusal, he changed the subject. “So, Chihara-sensei, why did you come to San’ya? Any particular business?”

Chihara poured him a cup of sake and sighed. “Not really. I… originally planned to scout actors here but came up empty-handed.”

“Oh?” Nagano perked up immediately—this was his hobby after all. “What kind of actor are you looking for? A delinquent type? If you’d like, I can help. I know this area well; I grew up here.”

“It’s not about finding someone authentic,” Chihara admitted. At a loss, he pulled out the literary script for Hanzawa Naoki and handed it over. “I’m looking for the male lead in this script.”

He had brought the script intending to persuade an actor but hadn’t expected Yasuda Shintaro to be so far from the mark. Still, it was convenient for consulting Nagano now. Though discussing such matters with the head of a small talent agency seemed futile, Nagano began speed-reading the script. After half an hour, he furrowed his brow in thought. “What about Awata Isao?”

“He declined—he’s committed to another project.”

“How about Uchida Yuji?”

“He’s too old, lacking sharpness. Only a last resort.”

True to his nearly thirty years in the industry, Nagano rattled off several names similar to Awata Isao. But Chihara had already considered them—they weren’t as suitable as Awata, and he didn’t want to settle unless absolutely forced.

Undeterred by rejections, Nagano pondered further. “Are you seeking a talented actor with charisma and presence—someone who can carry an entire drama?”

“Exactly,” Chihara sighed. It seemed he might have to compromise on quality, compensating elsewhere. But that significantly lowered his chances of high ratings—a disheartening prospect.

Nagano probed further. “Does fame matter?”

“Not particularly.” Chihara gave him a curious glance. “Are you planning to recommend someone from your agency?”

Casual banter was one thing, but if Nagano intended to push an artist onto him under the guise of friendship, Chihara would insist on professionalism.

Nagano grinned. “Of course not. But I do have someone in mind who fits your description—though he has a bit of baggage.”

“What kind of baggage?”

“A fight resulting in injury.” Nagano remained serious. “But there’s context. The other party harassed his girlfriend first, and he lost control. Early in his career, he showed immense promise. Unfortunately, shortly after gaining some recognition, the incident occurred. Tabloids labeled him a problematic artist, and his career stalled.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“Theater and stage plays.” Nagano suggested, “Would you like to watch a rehearsal?”

Chihara checked his watch—it was past eleven—and chuckled. “Still performing at this hour?”

“Rehearsals. This troupe is semi-amateur; most members work during the day, rehearsing only at night. They’re preparing for an upcoming performance, so rehearsals likely aren’t over yet.”

Chihara hesitated but decided there was no harm in taking a look. After all, he’d already spent the evening in this part of town. Turning to Yasuda Shintaro, he asked, “Yasuda-san, have you made a decision?”

If Yasuda refused, Chihara assumed he’d calmed down enough not to attempt suicide again. They could part ways then. As for whether he’d jump into the river another time… honestly, Chihara couldn’t afford to worry about that. He’d done more than enough.

Yasuda had already decided but hadn’t wanted to interrupt their conversation. Now, seeing Chihara ask, he bowed his head. “I accept. Chihara-san.”

Even if Chihara’s offer seemed unreliable, Yasuda had few alternatives. Chihara smiled, relieved to salvage something from the night. “Thank you, Yasuda-san. Now, we’re heading to watch a rehearsal. Do you… have a place to stay tonight?”

Yasuda hesitated, embarrassed. “No, but it’s fine. I’ll find a cardboard shelter in the park.”

“In that case, you can crash at my place temporarily,” Chihara offered. “It’s small, so don’t expect much.”

His kindness wasn’t entirely altruistic. Though the cursed system had designated Yasuda as a “special talent,” it didn’t guarantee good character. Chihara needed time to assess him properly. Konoe Hitomi, however, genuinely sympathized with Yasuda. Raising her hand, she interjected, “Actually, I’m moving soon. My current place is noisy but cheap. Would you like to rent it, Yasuda-san?”

Yasuda wavered, unsure whether staying with his new boss was appropriate. Cheap rent sounded appealing, but he lacked funds. Chihara intervened, deciding they’d discuss it later—Hitomi wasn’t moving out tomorrow anyway.

Under Nagano’s guidance, they proceeded to a small back-alley theater resembling those used by idols for performances. Nagano knew the area well and smoothly ushered them inside. Sure enough, a new play was being rehearsed.

Chihara scanned the room, familiar with such settings from his college days when he often directed neighboring departments’ stage productions. Despite looking around, he saw no standout performers. Turning to Nagano, he asked, “Where’s the person you mentioned?”

Expectations low, he prepared to leave once Nagano pointed him out. Smiling, Nagano gestured toward a shadowy corner near the stage. “Over there—he’s about to go on.”

Chihara followed his gaze. A man in his late twenties approached the stage, initially unremarkable. But the moment he stepped onto the platform, his entire aura transformed. Like a sword unsheathed, his presence sharpened, exuding power and commanding authority.

Silently applauding, Nagano remarked, “I haven’t seen him in a while. His growth is impressive. Pure theater, free from fame, truly refines talent.”

Chihara nodded in agreement. Such mastery wasn’t built overnight—even raw talent required passion, reflection, and countless hours of sweat. This was clearly a skilled actor nearing maturity, with features fitting Hanzawa Naoki’s persona—a natural elite.

Without rushing to check the Spiritual Compatibility Rate, Chihara focused on the performance, asking casually, “How long ago was the fight, Nagano-senpai? Why didn’t you sign him?”

Such potential shouldn’t be overlooked, even by a seasoned scout. Was there more to the story?

Nagano kept his eyes on the stage. “The fight? Six or seven years ago, when he was just starting out—21 or 22, still hot-headed. As for why I didn’t sign him, he’s under contract with another agency, though they’ve largely abandoned him. They probably don’t even know he’s performing here. I discovered him over a year ago and urged him to join me, but he insisted on honoring his original contract. Since then, he’s honed his craft.”

Turning to Chihara, Nagano’s smile turned mysterious. “Do you know why I thought of him?”

“Why?”

“Because he graduated from Kyoto University, much like the protagonist in your script. He’s part of our nation’s elite class. Doesn’t it make sense for him to play another?”

“Kyoto University? Why did he choose acting?”

“Passion, I assume. He was active in his university drama club, as was his girlfriend. After graduation, they both pursued acting, reportedly causing a rift with their families.”

“I see…”

Chihara grew increasingly impressed. Stage performances often exaggerated movements and dialogue for visibility, but this actor had refined his technique. His gestures were bold yet natural, radiating tension perfectly suited for screen adaptation. Perhaps he’d never given up hope of returning to television, patiently awaiting his moment.

Even without using [Spiritual Observation], Chihara felt certain. In every aspect, this man rivaled—if not surpassed—Awata Isao. He was the ideal Hanzawa Naoki.

Cautious by nature, Chihara tested anyway: Spiritual Compatibility Rate—83%, near perfection!

Relieved, Chihara felt invigorated. Fate had finally turned in his favor. Patting Nagano’s arm, he whispered, “Nagano-senpai, I owe you a big favor.”

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: 20 Advance chapters

Access fee $3.00 Monthly