They stared at the outrageous profit-sharing terms on the contract, then looked up at the calm young man sitting across from them.
A ridiculous thought struck them all at once... this deal was practically risk-free for them.
If they won, they'd secure their thrones as the undisputed rulers of a new era. If they lost, only Seiji would take the hit.
"We agree!" Tsutsumi slammed the table, eyes blazing with a gambler's fervor. "We're willing to bet on this era with you, Fujiwara-sensei!"
That same afternoon, a joint announcement exploded across Japan like a bomb.
**[Genesis Entertainment and NikoNikoStream, Hulu Japan, and AbemaTV form a historic strategic alliance! Seiji Fujiwara will simultaneously launch a brand-new variety show and TV drama, challenging the traditional entertainment industry on an unprecedented scale!]
The press release was brimming with confidence and provocation... every word radiated faith in the quality of the upcoming works.
In an instant, the story dominated every media outlet and social platform.
Entertainment reporters swarmed like sharks smelling blood, ecstatic beyond measure. The headlines plastered across newspapers and websites grew increasingly sensational:
**[Battle of the Century! Rising star Seiji Fujiwara challenges Japan's traditional TV alliance!]
**[Madman or genius? Genesis Entertainment takes on both drama and variety at once!]
Industry analysts weighed in with more measured language, but their words couldn't hide their astonishment and anticipation:
"Genesis's Legal High was undoubtedly a phenomenon... but drama and variety are two completely different beasts. Whether Seiji Fujiwara can replicate his success will be the ultimate test of his true talent."
Meanwhile, ordinary viewers flooded the internet, creating a tidal wave of discussion.
On forums and social media, the hype was off the charts:
"Holy crap! One guy versus the whole industry?!"
"Fujiwara-sensei is insane! Go Genesis! Crush those fossilized TV stations!"
"Don't get too hyped. Variety shows are way trickier than dramas. He might be overreaching this time."
...
...
Amid the frenzy, the first to take action were the struggling second- and third-tier actors of the industry.
They could all sense it... a new giant was rising.
And for those long suffocated by the old power hierarchy, this was the chance of a lifetime.
Genesis's recruiting inbox was flooded with résumés overnight.
"If I could be part of a Genesis production... even just a small role... I might just make it big!" became their shared dream.
After all, Takuya Arima's story was still fresh in everyone's minds!
Some small and mid-tier agencies went even further, showing up at Genesis's doorstep to pitch themselves.
The big talent agencies, however, stayed quiet on the surface while secretly reassessing their strategies. They began screening their rosters for artists who might fit Genesis's style... ready to pivot the moment the winds shifted. Whether to invest or align, they were all waiting to see which way the bullet would fly.
...
...
Tokyo, inside a luxurious apartment... one of Seiji's many properties.
At the moment, Utaha and Eriri had just finished work for the day and were sprawled lazily on the living room sofa.
"Eriri, look at this!" Utaha suddenly brightened, as if she'd seen something incredible, and handed her tablet over.
"What is it?"
Eriri accepted it halfheartedly... then her pupils constricted the moment she saw the headline.
"Seiji's... this bold?!" she blurted, her voice a mix of shock and excitement she didn't even notice herself. "Is he trying to dominate the entire film and TV industry?"
Utaha leaned back against the soft cushions, her long pale legs crossed elegantly.
"Mmh... launching both a drama and a variety show at the same time... that's a crazy kind of ambition," she murmured.
Her emotions were tangled... equal parts worry and anticipation.
Her rational mind told her it was too much. The old TV networks were intertwined in an impenetrable web of interests and bureaucracy. Japan's entertainment industry had been locked down for years.
But her instincts reminded her... Seiji had never failed. Every time, he'd done the impossible.
"Utaha," Eriri asked seriously, "do you think... he can pull it off?"
Utaha gazed out the window at the glittering city skyline. It was a long moment before she softly answered:
"I don't know. But he's never lost before."
...
...
Meanwhile, at STARRY Live House in Shimokitazawa, the girls of Kessoku Band were hanging out in the break room.
Seika Ijichi, Nijika, Ikuyo Kita, Ryo Yamada... and visiting that day, Kikuri Hiroi... were chatting casually when:
"Guys! Check this out!" Nijika exclaimed, waving her phone. She cast the article onto the wall display, and the bold headline lit up the room.
Everyone went silent.
"He's really producing both a variety show and a drama?" Seika's jaw dropped.
"Tsk tsk, sounds like something straight out of a story. Like a final boss trying to conquer the world!" Kikuri laughed.
Ryo set down her bass, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm... new project, huh? If it needs insert songs or themes, maybe Nijika and I could team up again."
"Hic..." Kikuri hiccupped mid-swig, muttering drunkenly, "That kid's... even crazier than me... I like it. Next time I see him, he's buying the good stuff!"
Kita stared at the screen for a long while before muttering under her breath, "That jerk's just getting more unstoppable... when will I ever escape his grasp?"
...
...
While the public buzzed with excitement, the atmosphere inside the headquarters of Japan's TV alliance was grim.
In the top-floor conference room of TBS, several media moguls sat with stormy expressions.
A balding executive slammed his palm on the table, sending the teacups rattling. "This is outrageous! That outsider wants to uproot our foundation! Who the hell does he think he is?!"
A Fuji TV director gave a cold laugh. "Reckless youth. Variety and drama aren't playgrounds you can master with a single lucky hit like Legal High. Each field runs deeper than he imagines."
At NHK, the board member in charge spoke slowly, his tone sharp as a knife: "We can't let him run rampant any longer. This time, we'll play our trump card. Let him see what four decades of accumulated power looks like."
"In the variety sector," said the TBS chairman, turning to his head of production, "who's our strongest player?"
"Producer Takeshi Tanaka!" the man replied instantly. "He's been in the business twenty years... connections, experience, everything. If he takes the lead, success is guaranteed!"
"Good!" The chairman slapped the armrest. "Contact Tanaka immediately! Tell him... unlimited budget, pick anyone he wants! I want a top-tier variety show that crushes Fujiwara Seiji's ambitions completely!"
As for underhanded tactics?
No one dared bring that up.
After the Daido Life Insurance Company 'incident,' no one wanted to be the next headline.
...
...
Soon after, the executives of the three major TV networks invited Takeshi Tanaka to a private dinner at an upscale restaurant.
Tanaka, a slick-haired middle-aged man, listened to their request, took a calm sip of sake, and smiled confidently.
"Gentlemen, you're too kind," he said leisurely. "To deal with a newbie who got lucky with one drama? Hardly worth all this. But since you insist, I'll show you how the real industry works. Let that kid learn that in this business, seniority and connections rule."
His arrogance seemed to reassure them.
Within days, a massive battle plan took shape.
And they weren't stopping there.
They'd fight on two fronts.
In variety, led by veteran producer Takeshi Tanaka.
In drama, they brought out a semi-retired legendary director... one who had once broken every ratings record in Japan.
The TV alliance soon held a grand press conference, announcing their all-star cast and legendary production lineup.
Their challenge was blatant: "We're glad to see fresh talent stepping up. But we'll respond with the highest professional standards. We just hope Fujiwara-sensei doesn't cry too hard when he loses! Hahaha!"
Genesis, on the other hand, remained utterly unfazed.
Seiji didn't bother to respond at all.
...
...
At TV Tokyo, Tanaka wasted no time.
With a promise of "no budget limit," he immediately activated his extensive connections.
His office phones rang nonstop as he puffed on a cigarette, scribbling one famous name after another across the whiteboard.
"Takafumi Wakaba... the nation's favorite comedian... secured!"
"The idol group Shining Girls' leader... done!"
"Popular actor Ken Yamada... get him as a guest!"
Within three days, he had assembled a lineup so packed with stars it looked like a galactic battleship.
Staring proudly at the dazzling list, Tanaka grinned.
Just putting these people together was half the victory.
The show's format was a safe classic... celebrity interviews and fun mini-games. It was his tried-and-true "winning formula," one that had dominated ratings for years. With this cast, what could possibly go wrong?
TV executives and the producers' guild all shared the same confidence. "Victory is certain," they said.
The day of filming, the studio's biggest set blazed with light.
But the dream soon shattered on impact with reality.
The first segment, "Perfect Harmony," required guests to make matching gestures based on prompts.
But the veteran comedian Wakaba, used to being the center of attention, jumped in before anyone else every time, throwing off the rhythm. The idol leader barely moved, terrified of messing up her image. And actor Ken Yamada stood aside with a "too cool for this" expression, refusing to play along at all.
The director was sweating bullets, barking orders through his headset... but it barely helped.
In the control room, even Wakaba, watching the chaotic feed on the monitors, could only frown deeply.
"This is a disaster," he muttered to himself. "You throw a bunch of stars together, and it just turns into chaos."
Everyone had their own brand, their own shtick... and no one wanted to play second fiddle.
"That singer keeps trying to steal the spotlight, that actor's too proud to join in, and me and that guy... we literally cursed each other out on-air three years ago. Now they want us to fake smiles on camera? I could die of secondhand embarrassment!"
The final cut was as bad as he feared.
Tanaka, watching the footage, felt his confidence curdle into panic.
"Camera three! Follow Wakaba-sensei's close-up! Sound team, lower Ken Yamada's mic... he's just rambling! Lighting! What are you even doing?!" he screamed into the mic.
But no matter how he barked orders, the footage remained a chaotic mess.
By the end of the edit, the result was obvious... lifeless, dull, painfully forced.
Tanaka wiped cold sweat from his brow.
The outcome was far worse than he'd imagined. But with so much money and prestige already sunk into production, there was no turning back.
He clenched his teeth. "Let's just hope that Seiji Fujiwara doesn't understand variety shows... maybe he's just an amateur."
Glancing at the social media buzz surrounding his celebrity cast, he managed to recover a bit of confidence.
"At least we've got the star power!"
"Publicity and hype are the real core of variety TV... if you've got that, the content doesn't even matter!" he told himself.
Then he saw Genesis's newly announced cast list... and burst into laughter.
"No-name nobodies? He really thinks a bunch of rookies can compete with my galactic lineup?"
"Seiji Fujiwara, you're still too young. You don't understand how this industry works!"
...
...
Meanwhile, inside Genesis Entertainment's headquarters...
Following Seiji's instructions, the film and TV department opened a company-wide submission call for variety show ideas. The department head had hoped to find a few sparks of genius among them... but reality hit hard.
He flipped through the towering pile of proposals, his frown deepening.
They weren't bad... but they were all derivative, uninspired clones of existing shows. Stale and lifeless.
"These... these aren't even close to good enough! Forget hitting our ratings targets... they wouldn't survive a single broadcast!" The department head paced the room anxiously, glancing at the ticking clock. For the first time, he began to doubt whether his boss had overreached this time.
Just then, the office door opened.
Seiji walked in, calm as ever.
"How are the proposals?" he asked.
"Boss..." The department head stood quickly, guilt on his face. "I'm sorry, none of these are usable."
"I never expected them to be."
The words caught him off guard.
"Then why... ?"
"The submission call was just to see who among our people have ideas and potential. Makes it easier to promote the right ones later." Seiji's voice was even, composed. "As for the actual show... of course I'll handle it myself."
He placed a thin file on the desk.
On the cover were four bold words: "Human Observation."
The department head hesitated, then opened it.
After only a few pages, his breathing grew rapid, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Those few sheets of paper felt impossibly heavy... not with weight, but with sheer creative force.
What kind of genius would come up with something like this?
Hidden cameras. Carefully designed setups. Scenarios that were funny, touching, or morally challenging... designed to capture people's real reactions in the moment.
For example...
If an anime nerd is being bullied on the street, will anyone step in?
If an actor at the next table in a restaurant suddenly asks to borrow money, how would you respond?
If your wife suddenly confesses she's the secret daughter of a former prime minister... what would you do?
Every segment was loaded with tension, unpredictability, and raw humanity.
It shattered the falsehoods and clichés of traditional variety television, chasing one thing and one thing only...
100% authenticity.