My Name is Hiroshi Nohara, Star of Neon Film and Television! Chapter 198: Midnight Diner Begins Production! Let Me Show Y

The news spread on winged feet, hurtling at near light-speed from the Bureau Chief's top-floor office to every corner of the Production Bureau.

"Did you hear? Did you hear? Departnt Manager Nohara is launching a new show!"

"What?! Another one?! Hachiko Monogatari only just ca out! Is the man made of iron?"

"Who knows! But Bureau Chief Sakata has personally signed off! Apparently, this one's a direct counter-offensive against that new 'Tokyo City TV'!"

"Counter-offensive? Ha ha ha! This should be good! I'd love to see which fool dared challenge our Departnt Manager Nohara!"

In the employee cafeteria during the lunch break, the normally subdued atmosphere was ignited by this bombshell.

Everyone set down their bowls and chopsticks, huddling in twos and threes, their voices low but barely containing their excitent as they discussed this "major event" — one that could send shockwaves through all of Tokyo's broadcasting world.

"Hey, hey, hey — did you hear? The show Departnt Manager Nohara's making is apparently based on his own manga! A heartwarming story!" A fresh-faced young screenwriter who looked barely out of orientation was whispering conspiratorially to several colleagues at his table.

"Manga adaptation?" A bespectacled, elegant-looking female planner's eyes lit up instantly. "Could it be... the legendary Midnight Diner?!"

"That's the one!" The young screenwriter slapped his thigh in excitent. "I'm a diehard fan of that manga! Let tell you — it's divine! No fighting, no romance drama — just one humble ho-cooked dish after another, one ordinary story after another, and sohow every single one heals everything that's weighing you down!"

"Absolutely!" The female planner chid in, her bright eyes shimring with sothing like kindred recognition. "Every ti I'm working late, body and soul completely drained, I'll flip open a few pages of Midnight Diner. Watching that owner — the one with the scar across his face who's sohow infinitely gentle — cook one heartwarming dish after another for lonely city folks just like ... suddenly all my exhaustion just lts away."

"Exactly! That warmth, that healing quality — it's basically chicken soup for the urban soul!" A thirtysothing male director with a weathered look couldn't help but sigh. "I honestly think that manga isn't just manga — it's a way of life, a philosophy! It teaches you that no matter how hard things get, there's always a warm place waiting for you sowhere in the night."

"Which is exactly why I'm saying — if Departnt Manager Nohara really adapts this manga into a drama, it's absolutely going to set all of Japan on fire!" The young screenwriter pumped his fist, his passion nearly bursting from his body.

But amid the feverish anticipation, a slightly hoarse yet thoroughly rational voice dropped into the boiling conversation like a fistful of ice into a sizzling pan, cooling everyone's excitent by several degrees.

"Everyone, aren't you being... a bit too optimistic?"

The speaker was a veteran producer in his fifties, hair already graying, widely respected throughout the Production Bureau.

He sat cradling his teacup, gently blowing on the steam, his clouded eyes reflecting a worldly calm that ca from decades of experience.

"Adapting manga into a live-action drama is no simple feat." He began slowly, his voice quiet yet cutting straight to the heart of the matter. "Manga is two-dinsional — brimming with imagination. Live-action drama is three-dinsional — rooted in reality. Between these two art forms lies a natural, fundantal chasm."

He paused, sweeping his gaze across the room, his elder's authority quieting the entire cafeteria. "How many wildly popular manga have been adapted into live-action dramas over the years? And what happened? Nine out of ten flopped! Why? Because the transplant just doesn't take!"

"Cast the wrong actors, and the original fans revolt! Alter the plot poorly, and casual viewers don't care! In the end, you please no one — you lose the wife and the soldiers to boot!"

The old producer's words were as cold as reality itself, yanking everyone out of their beautiful fantasies and back to earth.

"Yeah... the senior's right." The young screenwriter's fervor faded, replaced by deep concern. "I rember last year, a hugely popular shoujo manga was adapted into a live-action drama and... the original fans tore it to shreds! They all said the male lead was nothing like their 'Prince Charming'!"

"And what about that hot-blooded fighting manga?" The female planner joined in, her gentle face now etched with resignation. "After the live-action adaptation, all those cool fight scenes turned into bargain-bin special effects! It was... unwatchable!"

"Which is exactly why I'm saying you're all too optimistic." The old producer heaved a long sigh tinged with exasperation. "The reason Midnight Diner works as manga is its unique atmosphere — that warmth, that vitality of everyday life — and the owner himself, scarred yet infinitely gentle, encountering all manner of people and stories. If either of those core elents is mishandled, the entire show falls apart!"

"But... but Departnt Manager Nohara's Yamishibai was also adapted from manga, wasn't it? And that ani was a massive hit!" A young intern couldn't help but pipe up with a timid rebuttal.

"That's completely different!" The old producer shot him an irritated glance. "That was manga adapted into ani! Consistent art style, overlapping audience — of course the success rate is higher! But manga adapted into live-action drama? That's an entirely different beast! The difficulty gap is astronomical!"

The cafeteria filled with anxious murmurs.

The old producer's words had shaken everyone's confidence.

They knew he was right.

Manga-to-live-action adaptation was indeed a minefield riddled with thorns and traps.

Yet amid that fog of worry and doubt, a clear, confident voice rang out like a beam of brilliant sunlight piercing through dark clouds.

"I believe in Departnt Manager Nohara!"

It ca from a twenty-sothing female employee with a high ponytail, radiating youthful energy.

Her bright eyes blazed with unshakable trust.

"Have you all forgotten who Departnt Manager Nohara is?" She straightened her back, her youthful vigor revitalizing the entire cafeteria. "He's the Nohara Hiroshi who took a chanbara film — a genre everyone had written off — and turned it into an epic masterpiece called Seven Samurai!"

"He's the Nohara Hiroshi who took a simple urban legend concept and turned it into a cultural phenonon called Tales of the Unusual!"

"He's the Nohara Hiroshi who took an unremarkable story about a loyal dog and turned it into the tear-jerking masterpiece Hachiko Monogatari!"

"So I believe in him!" Her voice grew even more resolute, that heartfelt trust sweeping over everyone in the room. "I believe he'll find the perfect actor for 'the Owner'! I believe he'll create a Midnight Diner that captures the manga's very essence! I believe he'll create yet another miracle for TV Tokyo!"

Her words rang with the weight of conviction, every syllable charged with power.

The cafeteria plunged into stunned silence.

Everyone stared at her, their faces filled with shock, emotion, and sothing that had been thoroughly reignited — hope!

"She's right..."

"How could we doubt Departnt Manager Nohara?"

"He's practically our god at TV Tokyo!"

"Exactly! I believe in him! He'll create another miracle!"

After a montary hush, the cafeteria exploded with thunderous agreent!

Everyone was infected by her passion, their eyes blazing once more with stubborn fighting spirit.

They knew she was right.

Before the "cultural phenonon" that was Nohara Hiroshi, any difficulty, any challenge, would crumble like paper!

And every word of this discussion naturally reached Kitagawa Yao's ears.

She carried her tray back to Nohara Hiroshi's office at a brisk clip, her usually vibrant face now wearing a distinctly girlish look of worried hesitation.

"Departnt Manager..." She set the tray gently on the coffee table, her bright, wide eyes scanning Nohara Hiroshi's expression like a precision radar.

"What is it, Kitagawa?" Nohara Hiroshi set down his docunts. Her adorable fidgeting amused him. "Judging by that look, you must have another 'breaking story' to report?"

"Oh co on, Departnt Manager, don't tease ." Kitagawa Yao's cheeks flushed faintly. She stuck out her tongue and related everything she'd overheard in the cafeteria, word for word.

"...So, Departnt Manager, everyone's worried that this live-action adaptation might... might not translate well?" She finished and imdiately ducked her head, looking for all the world like a schoolgirl who'd been caught misbehaving.

Nohara Hiroshi listened, then allowed a knowing smile to cross his face.

He knew their concerns weren't unfounded.

In his previous life, countless manga-to-live-action adaptations had crashed and burned, becoming industry punchlines.

But Midnight Diner was the exception.

Its live-action version had sohow beco even more beloved, even more healing than the manga.

"Relax, Kitagawa. Don't worry about it." He smiled, his voice brimming with confidence. "I'm well aware of everyone's concerns. But I'm confident I can solve this."

He paused, the corner of his mouth curving into a faint arc. "Right now, go notify Section Chief Yamamoto Takeshi and Director Sato Kenji to co to my office at two this afternoon. I need to discuss sothing with them."

"Section Chief Yamamoto Takeshi?" Kitagawa Yao nodded — easy enough, since Yamamoto was right there in the Nohara Independent Production Departnt, heading the drama production section.

But then she caught the other na.

"Wait... Director Sato Kenji?" Kitagawa Yao looked up sharply, confusion filling her wide eyes. "Departnt Manager, isn't Director Sato Kenji from a different departnt? He helped out during Tales of the Unusual Season One, but then he went back to his original position in Production Section Three, didn't he?"

"I know." Nohara Hiroshi nodded, smiling at her puzzled face. "I've reviewed his dossier. He may only be a Level Three Director, but when it cos to character developnt and emotional nuance, he has a genuinely distinctive perspective. Among the Level Three Directors in the Production Bureau, he's made a real na for himself. What he's lacked is simply a platform where he can fully spread his wings."

He paused, his gaze drifting toward the vast expanse of Tokyo Bay beyond the window, his eyes deep yet confident. "And now, that opportunity has arrived. What Midnight Diner needs most is character depth and emotional resonance. It doesn't need flashy special effects or convoluted plot lines. It needs a director who can take ordinary stories and make them unforgettable. Sato Kenji is the perfect fit."

Kitagawa Yao stared blankly at Nohara Hiroshi. Even her clever mind was struggling to keep up.

She only vaguely sensed that this impossibly young departnt manager of hers possessed not just talent, but vision and breadth of perspective.

He always found gems buried in the rough and gave them the most dazzling stage imaginable.

"I... I understand, Departnt Manager!" She nodded firmly, her bright eyes now filled with nothing but pure admiration. "I'll go notify him right away!"

...

At two o'clock that afternoon, Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji entered Nohara Hiroshi's office one after the other.

Yamamoto Takeshi still carried his usual air of quiet pride, though beneath it lurked a barely perceptible deference.

Sato Kenji, trailing behind, appeared visibly uneasy — his expression a mix of apprehension and... a glimr of hope.

After all, his previous collaboration with Nohara Hiroshi had been limited to a liaison role during production, and on top of that, he'd had covert ties to Executive Deputy Director Takada. Even now, his distant uncle — Kirin Group Chairman Sato Tokugawa — was trying to recruit him to jump ship to Tokyo City TV, dangling a Deputy Departnt Manager position.

The only reasons Sato Kenji hadn't taken the bait were his reluctance to leave TV Tokyo's secure employnt, and his awareness that his uncle was... problematic.

Their two families had never gotten along well.

His own father — an ordinary man — had been mocked and belittled to his face by this distant uncle.

So his feelings toward this remote relative had always been thin at best.

But it was precisely this connection that made Sato Kenji nervous now.

On top of everything, he'd previously passed information to Executive Deputy Director Takada. Granted, nothing of great consequence, and he'd never truly compromised Nohara Hiroshi's interests — but there had been so unsavory dealings in the past.

Hence the complexity of his emotions.

"Departnt Manager, you wanted to see us." The two n bowed respectfully before Nohara Hiroshi.

"Mm. Have a seat." Nohara Hiroshi smiled and gestured, personally pouring tea for them both. That approachable warmth eased so of the tension gripping Sato Kenji's heart.

"I'm sure you've heard." Nohara Hiroshi got straight to the point. "I intend to adapt my manga Midnight Diner into a live-action drama."

"Yes, sir. We've heard." Yamamoto Takeshi nodded, glancing at his old friend fidgeting beside him. He'd clearly guessed where this was heading. "The entire Production Bureau is buzzing about it."

"Departnt Manager, do you... do you really intend to put in charge of this production?" Sato Kenji finally mustered his courage, lifting his head. His perpetually weary eyes now blazed with an almost manic light.

"I do." Nohara Hiroshi nodded, regarding Sato Kenji with evident appreciation. "I plan to transfer you into my Independent Production Departnt, temporarily under Yamamoto Takeshi's drama section. Once this drama wraps, if it performs well, I'll establish a dedicated Drama Section Two — with you as its chief, specifically overseeing all future Midnight Diner productions."

"What?!"

Sato Kenji's body jolted. His weary eyes flew wide open, his face a mask of absolute disbelief.

Section Chief of Drama Section Two?!

With dedicated oversight of the Midnight Diner project?

For a Level Three Director who had desperately needed a standalone project as a stepping stone to promotion — this was... this was a rocket to the heavens!

He stared blankly at Nohara Hiroshi, his mind gone white.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that a Level Three Director who'd toiled for over a decade in Production Section Three — with no prospect of advancent in sight — could receive an opportunity this monuntal!

"Sato! What are you standing there gawking for?!" Yamamoto Takeshi clapped his old friend hard on the shoulder, his voice ringing with genuine joy and... a touch of envy. "Thank the Departnt Manager already! This is your once-in-a-lifeti chance to turn everything around!"

"D-Departnt Manager!" Sato Kenji finally snapped out of his stupor. He shot to his feet and bowed — deeply, profoundly — before Nohara Hiroshi.

Within that bowed back lay boundless gratitude and... absolute allegiance.

"Thank you for believing in , Departnt Manager! I... I, Sato Kenji, will give everything I have! I will not let you down!"

His voice caught with emotion, the raw sincerity moving everyone in the room.

Nohara Hiroshi rely smiled, reaching out to gently raise him up.

"It's alright, Director Sato. No need for such formality." He chuckled, the warmth and strength in his deanor gradually calming Sato Kenji's racing heart.

He paused, sweeping his gaze over their stunned, expectant faces, the corner of his mouth lifting with confidence. "And I haven't just brought you aboard to direct — I've already prepared everything for you."

With that, Nohara Hiroshi retrieved two items from his desk drawer.

One was a bound Midnight Diner manga volu.

The other was a thick stack of paper covered in storyboard sketches.

"Here's the manga — take it ho and study it thoroughly. And this—" He slid the stack of storyboards toward them. "These are the shot-by-shot storyboards I drew this morning for the first three episodes of Midnight Diner."

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji's breathing seed to stop entirely.

They stared at the thick sheaf on the table. What appeared to be casual sketches were, to their professional eyes, pages from a spellbook — every line, every angle suffused with breathtaking artistry.

Yamamoto Takeshi was the first to reach out. His hand — usually so strong and steady — now trembled almost imperceptibly.

He picked up the storyboards with the care of a man handling a priceless artifact.

"Departnt Manager, these..." His voice ca out rough, the bone-deep shock enough to rattle even this veteran director. "You've already planned out the shots, the lighting, the score... everything?! And this is still just a proposal!"

"Not just planned." Nohara Hiroshi smiled with quiet calm, lifting his teacup for a sip. His composure wrapped the entire room in an invisible force. "I've already directed this entire drama — in my head — from start to finish."

He paused, drawing their attention. "Look here." He pointed to a single fra of the storyboard — a man, his back to the cara, silently eating a bowl of ochazuke.

"This shot. I want a locked-off long take. Low lighting — we need to convey that sense of late-night solitude. But above the man's head, I want a single pool of warm amber light. This light isn't just illuminating the food — it's illuminating... sothing inside him."

"And here." He pointed to another fra — the Owner's scarred, impossibly gentle face.

"The Owner's expressions can't be too dramatic. Most of the ti, he's silent — a listener. His tenderness should co through in his eyes, in the subtle way he sets a dish before soone. He's an observer, a healer, a... ferryman of the night."

"As for casting..." A mysterious curve ford at the corner of Nohara Hiroshi's mouth. "The Owner is the most crucial role. I already have a preliminary candidate in mind. Soone who looks a bit nacing on the outside — even carries a hint of yakuza presence — but whose heart is infinitely gentle, whose eyes are full of stories."

"Yakuza presence?" Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji exchanged glances as several nas imdiately surfaced in their minds.

But before they could speak, Nohara Hiroshi continued, pulling their thoughts to a deeper level.

"I've already mapped out the first few episodes as well." His voice ca soft and steady. "Episode One: 'Red Wieners and Tamagoyaki.' About a yakuza boss whose favorite food is red wieners — the kind only kids are supposed to like. That contrast is the core charm of this entire show."

"Episode Two: 'Cat Rice.' About a down-on-her-luck female singer who, at the lowest point of her life, rediscovers her original dream through a simple bowl of cat rice."

"Episode Three: 'Ochazuke.' About three older unmarried won who sit in the dead of night, eating ochazuke and venting about their failed love lives. They say 'n are all pigs' on the surface, but deep down, they still desperately long for a love that's pure and genuine."

Nohara Hiroshi's voice was quiet, yet every word struck the heartstrings of Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji like perfectly tuned notes.

They listened in a trance, every expression on their faces frozen into a single state — absolute, total conquest!

They could already see it — in the near future, a drama called Midnight Diner sweeping across Japan with unstoppable force!

It would heal countless lonely souls and warm countless frozen hearts.

And they — they would be part of it, witnesses to the birth of this miracle!

"D-Departnt Manager..."

Sato Kenji's voice trembled with emotion. The normally taciturn man could barely contain himself.

He rembered how during Tales of the Unusual, Nohara Hiroshi had been exactly the sa — planning every last detail with ticulous precision.

That commanding foresight, that piercing insight into the human heart — it made even a grizzled Production Bureau veteran like himself feel utterly outclassed.

He even recalled that just yesterday, his estranged distant uncle — Kirin Group Chairman Sato Tokugawa — had sent word offering him a lucrative position as Deputy Departnt Manager at Tokyo City TV.

At the ti, he'd felt a montary waver.

But now, gazing at this impossibly young yet unfathomably deep man before him, that wavering heart turned to iron.

'To hell with Tokyo City TV!'

'To hell with Deputy Departnt Manager!'

'I'm following Departnt Manager Nohara for the rest of my life!'

'With him, forget Deputy Departnt Manager — even conquering the world isn't out of the question!'

"Departnt Manager!" Sato Kenji shot to his feet, his perpetually tired eyes now ablaze with roaring fla. "You can count on ! I, Sato Kenji — I will pour my heart and soul into creating the finest Midnight Diner I'm capable of, for you and for our Independent Production Departnt!"

Nohara Hiroshi watched his barely-contained excitent and allowed a wry, warm smile to settle across his features.

"Alright, Director Sato. Sit down." He chuckled. "Let's talk through the details."

That warmth and steadiness gradually cald Sato Kenji's racing pulse.

...

The discussion stretched straight through to evening.

Outside, the sky was painted in a breathtaking wash of sunset orange, bathing the entire office in a warm golden glow.

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji remained imrsed in the magnitude of what they'd learned, unable to surface from the shock and exhilaration.

"Alright, that's enough for today." Nohara Hiroshi stood, stretching with easy confidence.

He regarded their hungry-for-more expressions and let a mysterious smile spread across his face.

"You two — don't leave just yet." He grinned. "And don't eat dinner either. Wait here. In the anti, call in the core mbers of your most trusted production crews."

"Huh?" Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji blinked in unison.

"Departnt Manager, why call them now?" Yamamoto Takeshi asked, puzzled. "And... we're not allowed to eat dinner?"

"Yeah, Departnt Manager." Sato Kenji chid in, rubbing his protesting stomach, his face a portrait of confusion. "We're... we're practically starving to death."

"Relax — you won't starve." Nohara Hiroshi rely smiled, his clear eyes gleaming with philosophical depth. "I'm taking you sowhere special. For a al at a real 'midnight diner.'"

Despite their confusion, their absolute trust in Nohara Hiroshi won out. Both n nodded and picked up their phones.

The production crew was ready-made. A single call and those familiar collaborators — lighting technicians, cinematographers, sound engineers — grumbled about "overti again," but the mont they heard it was for Nohara Hiroshi's new project, they raced in from every corner of Tokyo toward TV Tokyo headquarters.

Yamamoto and Sato then thodically assigned roles — assistant directors, executive directors, departnt leads — arranging everything with thorough, ticulous care.

The crew mbers were each thrilled beyond belief.

Especially in front of Nohara Hiroshi himself — these TV Tokyo staffers gave two hundred percent of their energy.

After all, everyone knew Nohara Hiroshi was about to launch a new production.

And everyone knew that anything Nohara Hiroshi produced was destined to beco a classic.

No question about it.

Because that certainty was built on show after show of mythical-level ratings — trust earned through an unbroken record.

When the crew assignnts were complete, the sky outside had shifted from brilliant orange to deep indigo.

By the ti the clock crept toward nine-thirty, Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji's stomachs were howling in protest, their chests practically touching their spines.

It was late.

The production crew had left.

Yet Nohara Hiroshi still hadn't released the two of them, insisting they continue waiting — leaving them thoroughly bewildered.

"D-Departnt Manager..." Sato Kenji sagged limply against the table, his already weary face now etched with existential despair. "I... I can't go on much longer... I think I can see my deceased grandmother... beckoning to ..."

"Sa here, Departnt Manager." Yamamoto Takeshi agreed, his proud face crumpling into resignation. "If you don't feed us soon, I'm afraid we'll make tomorrow's news. Headline: 'Shocking! Two veteran TV Tokyo directors starved to death in their own office!'"

Nohara Hiroshi watched their dramatic "death throes" and finally broke into hearty laughter.

"Alright, alright, cut the act." He chuckled, infectious good humor filling the room. "Co on — let's go eat."

"Yes—!"

Both n sprang to life as if injected with pure adrenaline, rocketing from their seats. "We finally get to eat?!"

"Follow ." Nohara Hiroshi climbed into his understated yet distinguished Toyota Crown, the two n in tow, and eased into that glittering galaxy of Tokyo's nightti traffic.

The car wound through several busy streets before finally coming to a stop at an intersection in Shinjuku Ward.

"Sh-Shinjuku Ward?"

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji peered through the windows at the neon-drenched, hedonistic world outside, faint resistance flickering across their faces.

"Uh... Departnt Manager..." Sato Kenji swallowed hard, a barely perceptible nervousness in his voice. "We... we don't usually co to places like this. I'm... I'm not really a fan of the whole bar-and-nightclub scene. Too loud."

"Yeah, Departnt Manager." Yamamoto Takeshi agreed, discomfort written on his proud features. "I'm past the age for nightclubs. If you want a drink, why don't we just find a quiet izakaya? So sake, so yakitori... even ran would be fine, wouldn't it?"

These two were fundantally down-to-earth, even sowhat traditional middle-aged n.

The hormone-soaked, desire-charged atmosphere of Shinjuku triggered their instinctive resistance.

Nohara Hiroshi watched their squirming, fidgeting discomfort and couldn't suppress a quiet laugh.

"Relax — we're not going to a bar or a nightclub." He smiled, his clear eyes shimring with worldly insight. "Where I'm taking you is a place that will help you truly understand Midnight Diner."

He started the car again, expertly navigating into an even rowdier, more "colorful" district.

This was Shinjuku's Kabukicho.

Japan's most infamous red-light district.

The streets were lined shoulder-to-shoulder with bars, nightclubs, dubious establishnts, and various suggestively lit "information booths."

Scantily dressed, elaborately made-up won and n with dramatic hairstyles and roving eyes were everywhere, soliciting passersby with suggestive words.

The raw, primal cacophony made both Yamamoto and Sato burn crimson to their ears.

Worldly n though they were, facing such "uninhibited" spectacles still made them instinctively avert their gazes, trying not to look at anything that might send their heart rates soaring.

"Ahem... Departnt Manager..." Sato Kenji's cheeks glowed like heated iron. He had no idea where to rest his eyes.

But Nohara Hiroshi simply and calmly parked the car in a relatively quiet corner.

"Let's get out." His voice was soft and resolute.

Ignoring the suggestive stares from both sides of the street, he led the two n straight into a narrow, deep alley that stood in stark contrast to the main road's chaos.

"Departnt Manager, where are we going?" Yamamoto Takeshi couldn't help asking, feeling his heart hamring toward his throat.

"Rember this." Nohara Hiroshi's voice rang with unusual clarity in the quiet alley. "The more prosperous a place, the more saturated with desire — the purer its craving for food becos."

He paused, sweeping his gaze over them, his clear eyes gleaming with a philosopher's wisdom. "Because when people's bodies are glutted with desire, their souls beco unbearably hollow. And the only thing that can fill that hollowness is... the purest taste of food."

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji listened in stunned silence. They felt their world-weary hearts being cleansed, in that very mont, by an emotion they'd never experienced before — sothing that could only be called "epiphany."

Then Nohara Hiroshi stopped.

He pointed toward the only source of dim, amber light deep in the alley, and said — softly, yet with unshakable conviction:

"We're here."

Yamamoto Takeshi and Sato Kenji looked up instinctively.

At the far end of the alley stood a tiny, utterly nondescript restaurant — one that didn't even have a proper sign — sitting quietly in the darkness of the night.

That warm, amber glow filtered through a wooden sliding door, tinting the faded blue cloth curtain hanging at the entrance in a wash of gentle color.

The look of it, the atmosphere, the feeling...

It was identical — absolutely identical — to the world Nohara Hiroshi had drawn in his manga!

The two n locked eyes, finding in each other's gaze the sa shock, the sa euphoria, the sa... disbelief.

"The... Midnight Diner?" they whispered in unison.