dkrc Chapter 199 Legal High Audition
Chapter 199 Legal High Audition
Chapter 199 Li Gou Hai Audition (20th update, please vote)
Friday night at 8 pm, prime time.
Fuji Television, "Kitahara Shin Can Do Anything" studio.
The ratings curve for this episode, in the first five minutes of the program, stretched out like a rocket taking off, forming a vertical straight line.
The reason is nothing more than the sensational title in the trailer—[Kitahara Shin's Ultimate Challenge: Pass the National Judicial Examination in Two Months].
On the screen.
Kitahara Shin, dressed in a loose hoodie, sat at a desk piled high with law books. Opposite him sat three top lecturers, specially hired by the program team to train students for the bar exam.
But the expressions on the faces of these three lecturers were priceless—they looked at them like they were madmen.
"That one—Kitahara-san."
One of the lecturers, wearing thick glasses, wiped his sweat and tried to bring the big star to his senses: "Although this is a variety show, there are some things I have to say upfront. The pass rate for the Japanese bar exam is only about 3%."
The vast majority of test takers are law school graduates, studying for more than 10 hours a day, and taking three to five years to pass the exam is the norm. Two months?
That's absolutely impossible.
The camera zoomed in, giving Kitahara Shin a close-up.
He twirled the pen in his hand and flashed a bright smile at the camera: "That's what makes it a challenge."
He pointed to the whiteboard behind him, which read: 59 days.
"The reason is actually very simple."
Facing the camera, Kitahara Shin openly stated his business motives: "Because the protagonist of my next TV series is an invincible lawyer. To play this role well, I think it would be better to get a law license while I'm at it. That way, I'll feel more confident in my performance."
17
"Take the bar exam while you're at it"?
Countless viewers in front of their televisions were speechless at this outrageously arrogant statement.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please witness this."
The scene freezes on Kitahara Shin's back as he burys himself in his books, while the narrator shouts in a passionate voice: "This is the craziest project in Japanese entertainment history! Is it a hardcore promotion for the new drama, or a disgraceful Waterloo? Find out in two months!"
The show caused an uproar throughout Japan after it aired.
The media didn't know how to write the headline because this was too outrageous.
Some say this is a publicity stunt for ratings, others say it's a desecration of the sanctity of the law, and still others think Kitahara Shin has gone mad.
Even law students who were preparing for their exams were outraged.
They studied hard for years, losing all their hair, and still failed the exam. This celebrity actually said he could "casually" pass it in two months? This is simply rubbing salt into the wound of all their efforts.
But there's no denying that it's become incredibly popular.
A high school classroom in Tokyo.
Break time between classes.
"Hey, did you watch last night's show?"
A boy rolled up a comic book and tapped the back of the girl's chair in front of him: "That big talker Kitahara Shin is definitely going to crash and burn this time. Is the bar exam even a human exam? My cousin has been taking it for four years and is still stuck at home."
"No way!"
The girl turned around, looking indignant: "That's Kitahara Shin! The man who played Zaizen Goro! All those challenges he took seemed impossible, but he accomplished them all!"
"This time it's different. This requires using your brain, not just physical strength," the boy said, pursing his lips.
"Then let's make a bet!"
The girl slammed her hand on the table: "If he passes the exam, you're buying me Takeshita Mitsukoshi crepes for a month!"
"Fine, I'll take the bet! If he fails, you'll do my homework for a month!"
Similar betting schemes were taking place in schools, offices, and izakayas across the country. Kitahara Shin's actions this time successfully transformed a tedious exam into a nationwide entertainment event.
Compared to the students' playful antics, the professionals' reactions were much more confrontational.
A high-end law firm in Hong Kong.
Attorney Yoshioka, who had just won the Akasaka Real Estate forced demolition case and was at the center of a media storm, was surrounded by a group of reporters at the courthouse entrance.
"Mr. Yoshioka, what is your opinion on actor Kitahara Nobu's claim that he will pass the bar exam within two months in order to prepare for acting?"
Yoshioka stopped in his tracks.
He straightened his expensive tie, faced the camera, and gave a dismissive, arrogant smile befitting a "professional": "Acting is acting, and law is law."
"An actor's job is to memorize lines; all you need is a good memory. But the law requires logic, critical thinking, and a deep understanding of justice."
Speaking sarcastically into the microphone, he said, "Some people might think that playing a doctor means they can perform surgery, or playing a lawyer means they can defend someone. That's incredibly naive and disrespectful to our profession."
"Since it's just for entertainment purposes, let's treat it as a joke. After all, the clown's job is to make people laugh, isn't it?"
This interview was immediately broadcast repeatedly on major television stations.
This undoubtedly poured cold water on Kitahara Shin's challenge and further polarized the already heated public opinion.
Kitahara Office, rest area.
The television was broadcasting lawyer Yoshioka's "clown-like remarks."
The company employees were whispering amongst themselves, all thinking that the president might have really messed up this time. That was the bar exam, after all; if he failed, his "can do anything" persona would crumble.
But the style is completely different on the sofa in the corner.
"That bald old man is so noisy."
While eating pudding and watching TV, Nanako Matsushima muttered, "If the teacher said I could pass, then I definitely can. What's there to discuss?"
Beside her, Rie Miyazawa was flipping through a fashion magazine. Hearing this, she didn't even look up, simply turning a page and saying indifferently, "Indeed. Lawyers who can only talk a good game probably can't understand what a true genius is like."
The two spoke as calmly as if they were discussing tomorrow's weather.
Sitting opposite her, Matsu Takako was a little confused.
As a newcomer who had only recently joined the company, although she admired the president, she knew from a rational perspective that this matter was really risky.
"Um—Rie-nee."
Matsu Takako couldn't help but ask, "Do you really think the president can do it? That's the bar exam—two months is more than most people can study for, right?"
Rie Miyazawa closes the magazine.
She looked at Matsu Takako, who had a worried expression, and then at the spirited lawyer Yoshioka on TV. The image of Kitahara Shin resurfaced in her mind: how Kitahara Shin had used swift and decisive methods to resolve her mother's mess that night.
That man never makes empty promises.
"Takako-chan".
Rie Miyazawa rested her chin on her hand, a meaningful smile playing on her lips: "In this world, there are some people who cannot be judged by common sense."
"Since he dared to make that statement, it means he was already waiting at the finish line."
"All we need to do is prepare the champagne and wait to see these 'professionals' get their faces slapped in the face."
At this point, she glanced at Nanako, who was still eating pudding without a care in the world, and sighed.
Although this silly girl is a blind idol, this time—
She truly believed it.
After all, that man is Kitahara Shin.
Late at night, at Kitahara's office.
"Da da da da da da one"
A rapid, rhythmic tapping of the keyboard echoed through the quiet office.
Kitahara Shin was sitting in front of the bulky desktop computer he had just purchased, a rarity back then. The pale blue glow of the screen reflected on his focused face as his fingers danced across the keyboard, their afterimages almost invisible.
There's no time to finish the project proposal and the script outline for the first three episodes of the new drama in just two days; writing them by hand is definitely not going to be possible.
Fortunately, he now has the entire plot of Legal High in his mind, and with his hand speed enhanced by the "God's Hand," he can type faster than he can speak.
On the screen, lines of text quickly appeared:
[Title: Legal High]
[Genre: Legal/Comedy/Twist]
[Key Character: Kensuke Komikado. Personality: Sharp-tongued, greedy, lecherous, and ruthless in his pursuit of victory, but possesses absolute legal intuition and an undefeated record.]
[Core Conflict: Justice is not a fairy tale; the law is a weapon of the strong.]
As the Enter key was pressed hard, the last line of text was displayed.
Kitahara Shin stretched, listened to the printer's "buzzing" sound, and picked up the stack of still-warm papers with satisfaction.
Early the next morning.
The famous screenwriter Shinji Nojima (who was then employed by Kitahara Office for a long time) looked at the thick proposal in his hand, his brows furrowed, then relaxed, and finally turned into incredulous shock.
"this----"
Nojima flipped through the script outline, then looked up at Kitahara Shin, who was drinking coffee: "Isn't this a bit too unconventional? The protagonist is a lawyer with absolutely no morals? He's willing to destroy evidence, bribe witnesses, and even manipulate public opinion to win?"
"And this machine-gun-like volume of dialogue—are you serious?"
"Of course I'm serious."
Kitahara Shin put down his coffee cup and pointed out the window: "Nojima-san, look at the news about that lawyer Yoshioka, it's causing such a stir. The audience is really getting worked up. They don't want to watch those melodramatic, didactic dramas anymore; they want something exciting."
"That's the kind of disruptive impact I want. Tearing off the fig leaf of justice and using the most shameless methods to articulate the hardest truths."
"How is it? Can you polish it up?"
Shinji Nojima took a deep breath, his creative urge ignited in his eyes: "Although this protagonist is a jerk—he's really charming. Three days, give me three days, and I'll produce the scene-by-scene script."
Three days later, Fuji Television.
When Kitahara Shin appeared in the director of the production department's office with this freshly drawn proposal, the entire television station's top management was in an uproar.
"Take a picture! You absolutely have to take a picture!"
The production director, looking at the proposal, was so excited he almost slapped his thigh: "Kitahara-san, you're simply a savior of ratings! We were just wondering how to capitalize on—no, how to combine that 'evil lawyer' news with this hot topic, and you've delivered this perfect pillow!"
"And you're starring in it yourself? And you're also involved in that variety show project about passing the bar exam?"
"This hype is absolutely explosive! We can set any budget, choose any release date; we're going to make it the ace of the Monday 9 PM drama slot!"
The people at Fuji TV were ecstatic.
I initially thought that Kitahara Shin's decision to go off to make movies and work on V-Cinema was a waste of his time, but I never expected him to make such a comeback, and that he hit the nail on the head when it came to traffic.
This is a top-tier producer who truly understands the market!
With the project confirmed, the next crucial step is casting.
Especially the female lead, Mayuzumi Machiko.
This character serves as a contrast to Komekado. She's a hot-blooded idiot with an overflowing sense of justice, a bit stubborn, and often jokingly referred to by Komekado as the "morning drama heroine."
The original Yui Aragaki is still an elementary school student in Okinawa, so we can't count on her.
Kitahara Shin sat in the center of the judging panel in the casting room, not holding a script, but holding a thick book called "The Complete Book of Six Laws" that was as thick as a brick.
I was watching auditions while preparing for the exams.
This wasn't a show; he genuinely made the most of every minute to memorize the legal provisions. After all, it was the most difficult exam in all of Japan, and even with cheat codes, you still had to grind through the basics.
"President, it's about time to begin."
Beside him, a Fuji TV producer rubbed his hands together, looking at the list with excitement: "There are quite a few people auditioning this time. Many agencies have sent their newcomers. After all, it's your drama."
"Um.
"Without even looking up, Kitahara Shin turned a page of his book and muttered civil law clauses to himself: 'Let the first one in.'"
The door opened.
The first person to walk in was Matsu Takako.
Today she was wearing a somewhat old-fashioned gray business suit, her hair was tied in a ponytail, and she had no makeup on. She did look a bit like a newly graduated, enthusiastic but constantly hitting roadblocks new lawyer.
Kitahara Shin finally looked up from his book.
Looking at Matsu Takako in front of him, he nodded to himself.
Although in the original timeline, Takako Matsu was portrayed as an artistic goddess, her performance in "Flowers of Evil" as a policewoman bursting with a sense of justice but ultimately shattered by reality was surprisingly effective.
That air of a young lady from a prestigious family, mixed with a stubbornness that says "I'm going to fight to the death," is actually quite similar to the character of Mayuzumi Machiko.
"Ms. Takako Matsu".
Kitahara Shin pushed up his non-prescription glasses (which he wore to read) and pointed to the open space in front of him: "Let's try a scene. Just act out the scene where you first meet Komikado, and he takes your seat on the subway and tries to argue with you."
"yes!"
Matsu Takako took a deep breath, her eyes instantly turning sharp.
Next, Nanako Matsushima came in.
The moment she entered, the whole room seemed to brighten up.
Tall and slender, with a perfect smile, she is the quintessential "Yamato Nadeshiko".
But she was clearly trying to challenge herself today, deliberately messing up her hair in an attempt to portray the "dumb lawyer" image.
"Hello, teachers—no, esteemed judges!"
Nanako bowed and shouted energetically.
Kitahara Shin looked at his foolish apprentice and couldn't help but twitch his lips.
Nanako Matsushita as Mayuzumi—she looks like an "all-around mature woman pretending to be silly." Her gentle, innate charm...
It's difficult to portray the kind of weedy character who gets scolded mercilessly by Komekado but still manages to crawl back up like a cockroach.
However, we should always give them a chance.
"Let's begin."
As Kitahara Shin silently recited Article 199 of the Criminal Code, he watched Nanako wave her fist at the air and shout, "Justice will prevail!"
This scene—
It's kind of cute, but mostly it's funny.
In the casting room, a battle for "who is the strongest female lead in a morning drama" officially begins.
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