Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C97

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Chapter 97: The Target Has Escaped

The story of Hanzawa Naoki primarily unfolds in Osaka and Tokyo, two cities that Chihara Rinto had briefly considered consolidating to save costs. However, he ultimately decided against it—Osaka, often referred to as Japan’s “Western Capital,” is a major hub in the . For an elite employee like Hanzawa Naoki, being transferred to Osaka made sense; anything less would’ve felt like exile.

As a result, much of the early filming took place in Osaka. While it wasn’t particularly troublesome—thanks to ’s partnership with Osaka Television, which provided solid support—it did require Chihara to lead two production teams on location for nearly a month. He returned to Tokyo on June 20th with one team, resuming shooting while simultaneously editing the first two episodes.

Chihara held final approval over the broadcast version of the series, relegating Murakami Iori to roles akin to producer and financial overseer rather than her previous full-fledged position as executive producer. For the premiere episode, following Japanese television conventions, he crafted an extended cut running 129 minutes—just over two hours—to hook viewers effectively. Once post-production wrapped, he summoned Murakami to review the finished product.

Murakami approached the task with seriousness. If this ambitious project flopped, even if Kanto United TV showed some leniency out of respect for '' and didn’t immediately fire them, securing funding for future endeavors from the network would become far more difficult. She scrutinized the completed episode meticulously, despite having already read the script and seen various clips. After more than two hours, she exhaled deeply and smiled. “Chihara, this is really good.”

The plot was impeccable: Hanzawa Naoki, head of the loan department at Tokyo Central Bank’s Osaka branch, was coerced by his superior into approving a five-billion-yen unsecured loan to , seemingly an ideal client but secretly drowning in debt through falsified accounts. Within three months, the company collapsed, its owner absconding with the funds. To protect his career, the branch manager shifted blame onto Hanzawa, pushing him to the brink. In retaliation, Hanzawa vowed during a headquarters investigation hearing to recover the stolen five billion yen—a promise brimming with suspense. The pacing remained taut throughout, captivating even Murakami, who knew the material inside out, leaving her glued to her seat for two hours straight.

The performances were equally stellar. Every actor delivered their best work, especially , whose portrayal of Hanzawa stood out. His steely gaze conveyed unwavering determination, while his affable demeanor added warmth, imbuing him with the charm of a mature, capable man. Watching him, one couldn’t help but believe he was born to play an elite banker—one of Japan’s most competent individuals, precisely the type who could challenge authority from below.

The cinematography also excelled. Money hadn’t been wasted; the meticulous attention to detail shone brightly amidst the rushed production standards typical of Japanese dramas. By all measures, it deserved praise.

Thus, Murakami sincerely believed the first episode of Hanzawa Naoki was excellent. The combined audiovisual impact surpassed her expectations from reading the script alone. With genuine enthusiasm, she gave her approval.

Chihara visibly relaxed. Though confident in the outcome after countless viewings, he’d worried about losing objectivity and sought Murakami’s validation. Her endorsement reassured him further.

Turning to her, his eyes gleaming, he asked with a grin, “If the quality remains consistent, how do you think it’ll perform?”

Murakami paused thoughtfully before replying cautiously, “In primetime, I’d say a 20% rating is guaranteed. Higher? There’s a strong chance we could end the season above 30%.”

Chihara nodded silently. Knowing Murakami’s tendency toward conservative estimates, these numbers seemed promising. He mulled it over, then changed the subject. “How’s the promotional campaign coming along?”

“It’s all set,” Murakami replied. She hadn’t been idle during his absence, juggling responsibilities for both Human Observation and Hanzawa Naoki. “We’ve secured resources for TV and newspaper ads, and we’re investing heavily in posters…”

She retrieved a sample poster featuring a close-up of Sugano Makoto. His face was partially shadowed, emphasizing his resolute expression. Below it ran the season’s tagline: I believe in the inherent goodness of humanity—but I repay evil tenfold. That is my principle.

Chihara examined it closely, pleased with the result. Murakami elaborated, “I plan to distribute these across major cities’ subway, train, and bus lines. Subtle exposure will help boost the first episode’s ratings and lay a solid foundation for the entire season.”

In an era where internet advertising hadn’t yet gained prominence due to limited user bases, traditional poster campaigns remained essential. Placement depended on target demographics—for instance, housewives frequented neighborhood bulletin boards. Since Hanzawa Naoki aimed at working professionals, transportation hubs were ideal.

Murakami’s efficiency never failed to impress. Chihara offered no objections, simply smiling. “You’ve worked hard, Murakami-san.”

He noticed she’d grown thinner, and when she glanced at him, she saw dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. Chuckling softly, she said, “You’ve worked hard too, Chihara. Take a day off!”

Touching his face, Chihara realized he looked older. This was his first time directing independently, overseeing a third of the shoot alongside his duties as overall supervisor. The workload was immense, and stress had taken its toll. Sleep had eluded him for weeks, tempting him to drown his exhaustion in alcohol. Yet, he resisted, refusing to let himself succumb to addiction.

Reflecting on the past grueling month, he sighed, then laughed. “One night off, maybe. But now isn’t the time for rest. Let’s wait until after the summer season.”

Murakami patted his shoulder, understanding. A vacation now might only leave him pacing anxiously at home, worrying himself sick—a fate she’d experienced herself. Such was the burden of leadership.

Without pressing further, she discussed additional promotional details before returning to her own packed schedule. Thanks to Chihara shouldering much of the pressure, her mood remained stable, free from the anxiety-induced swelling she’d endured before.

Meanwhile, Chihara caught up on tasks delayed by filming. By six in the evening, he decided to call it a day, donned his coat, and headed out for a “date.” Finally, after over a month of anticipation, he could go!

He arrived at the unassuming restaurant where worked. Stepping inside, he felt an immediate sense of relief, as if the entrance curtain sealed away his professional burdens. Scanning the room, however, he didn’t spot Neiko. Disappointed but resigned, he sat down and ordered a set meal.

Eating distractedly, he longed to talk to Neiko. Of everyone in the world, she alone felt approachable. He wanted to vent about the trials of the past month, but despite craning his neck repeatedly, he couldn’t find her. Just as he debated asking someone, appeared—helping her mother today by hauling radishes into the kitchen.

Seeing Aiko, Chihara recalled the deception she’d orchestrated. Still, achieving his goal came first. To get closer to Neiko, he couldn’t afford to alienate her younger cousin—not yet. Revenge could wait.

Seizing a moment, he greeted Aiko, who responded politely, surprised to see him. “Good evening, Chihara-sensei.”

Smiling casually, he inquired, “What are you doing here instead of your Neiko-nee?”

Aiko stiffened, instantly wary. “Neiko-nee went on a trip.”

“Where to?”

After a brief hesitation, she answered truthfully, “. She plans to explore there.” She didn’t believe Chihara could track her all the way to Shikoku, and even less that he could actually find her in such a big place.

Chihara’s heart sank. Another trip? After squeezing out precious time, his target had vanished…

Anxiously, he pressed, “Did she say how long she’ll stay?”

Aiko hesitated. “No, but it sounded like it might be a while. It’s far, after all!” Suspicion crept back into her voice. “Chihara-sensei, why do you keep asking about Neiko-nee?”

Could it be that the lie last time didn’t work? Did he still have ill intentions?

Chihara shook his head, improvising. “She’s been helping clean my apartment. I wanted to thank her.”

Aiko gasped. “So the apartment Neiko-nee asked me to temporarily take over… belongs to you?”

Her mind raced. Had this wolf cunningly maneuvered his way into luring her cousin into his den?

Thankfully, Neiko-nee loved traveling—and thankfully, she’d chosen Shikoku!

Chihara, too, was stunned. “You’re cleaning my apartment now?”

“Yes. Neiko-nee said it was a good job and didn’t want to lose it, so she handed it off to me temporarily. The pay goes to me until she returns.” Aiko’s tone grew conflicted. She didn’t expect that she would work for this weasel. “She mentioned wanting to inform the landlord but couldn’t find him. She left a note explaining everything. Didn’t you see it?”

“I was in Osaka on business and just got back two days ago. I haven’t returned home yet—been swamped.” Chihara slumped, defeated.

It was over. All his carefully laid plans rendered useless. His target had fled to another island entirely.

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