"Are you okay with them? With them holding you back?"
The stalker's voice was a venomous sneer, his glare cutting past the script and boring directly into the group of rookie actors standing stiffly behind the heroine.
His question wasn't about the drama's plot. It was a naked, contemptuous challenge aimed at the amateurs who had been delivering wooden, lifeless performances all day.
A wave of palpable shame, anger, and humiliation washed over them. The barb had struck deep.
The purple-haired actor playing the jealous lover, in particular, seemed to vibrate with a sudden, raw intensity.
His eyes became bloodshot, the veins in his neck standing out.
He wasn't just acting anymore.
The stalker's calculated, humiliating insult about his pathetic acting skill had finally pierced through his nerves, unlocking a reservoir of genuine, boiling rage.
For the first time, his jealousy on camera looked real, feral, and dangerous.
Then came the heroine's answer, and it stunned everyone into silence.
Not just the actors on set.
The manga creator watching the monitors, the director observing from the shadows, even the audience who would later see this final cut—all were dominated in that moment by the sheer presence of the actress on screen. It was all in her smile.
"It's fine. Because, I can see the light."
With that line, the scene faded to black. Arima Kana's smile provided the perfect, unsettling closure to the episode's drama.
As the set began to break down, I made my way toward the director, Masaya Kaburagi.
I found him leaning against the graffiti-stained wall of a studio alleyway, away from the bustle.
He was smoking a cigar, the tip glowing a dull red in the dim light.
His usual flat, unreadable expression was in place, but he didn't bother to hide the glint of professional approval in his eyes as he spoke.
"I had never thought to find such hidden potential buried in one of our lesser roles," he stated, the smoke curling around his words.
"You used everything. The crack of lightning in the background. The waterlogged, oppressive atmosphere. The genuinely creepy aura you created. Then you weaponized it—used that sinister stare and those mocking remarks to the male lead to pry open a real, ugly rage inside him. That wasn't just acting; that was psychological direction. You're a born actor, Aquamarine. I expect great things from you."
He took the cigar from his lips and gestured with it toward me, a smirk playing on his face. "Do you want a cigarette?"
"No, thanks," I refused, my tone indifferent.
Kaburagi merely shrugged and took another long drag, the smoke pluming into the cool air between us.
"So," he continued, his gaze steady and assessing. "Any questions?"
"Do you know Ai Hoshino, Director Kaburagi?" I prompted him, cutting straight to the point.
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he took a final, thoughtful drag from his cigar before flicking the stub into a nearby trash can with a practiced motion.
He let out a sigh that seemed heavy with old memories. "Oh, her. Yeah, I know her. I'd have never believed she was a legendary idol, a walking cultural phenomenon, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. You know what she looked like when she first came to the set, Aqua? A country bumpkin. A complete rube. She didn't get along with anyone. Just sat in the corner, hunched over her phone, watching videos of herself. She looked more like a lonely outcast than the future number-one idol in the nation."
He paused, his gaze growing distant. "But then… everything changed. Something shifted. Or maybe… someone changed her."
A playful, knowing glint returned to his eyes as he looked back at me. "Interested in the rest of the story?"
I gave a single, firm nod.
"Good," he said, his voice dropping into a more conspiratorial tone.
He stepped closer and patted my shoulder, a gesture that was both encouraging and loaded with implication. "Then I need you to do me a favor. Come on the dating reality show, We're About to Fall in Love for Real. Be a participant. Do that for me, and I'll tell you everything. Everything about Ai. What you need to know. And… her hidden secret. What really happened to her back then. Who she met."
He leaned back, spreading his hands as if the deal were self-evident. "A favor for a favor. A fair game, right? Don't worry, we'll still pay you your standard rate."
"I'll come," I replied, my voice leaving no room for hesitation.
A satisfied smile spread across his face.
"Good." He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, pulled out a sleek business card, and handed it to me. "Here. My direct line. Contact me if you need anything before we start."
His smirk returned, fuller now, as if he'd just cast the perfect actor for a pivotal, hidden role. "I'll be in touch with the details."
Afterward, he left.
My mind, however, was far from still. In the silence of the alley, I turned inward, contacting the loli goddess who resided within the landscape of my own consciousness.
"Is he telling the truth?" I demanded, the question sharp in the mental space.
"He is," her voice replied, a milky, almost liquid sound that held an ancient weight. "But his truth is a calculated one. He does not trust you with the information. Not yet."
"His intention is to bind you to his project, to make you a dependent asset on his team, before he entrusts you with the full story. He knows precisely who her lover was. He knows the man who made Ai pregnant. But he will not give you a name. He will offer only vague hints, a location, a shadow of a moment. He deals in pieces, not portraits."
She chuckled, a sound like distant wind chimes. "So, my little bird, are you going to play his slow, tedious game?"
A surge of raw, impatient fury twisted inside me.
"Then you tell me who he is," I growled, the menace in my mental voice directed squarely at Tsukuyomi, the goddess who hoarded secrets behind her placid, childish facade.
Her response was immediate and cold, the playful tone vanishing. "He doesn't trust you. And I, likewise, do not trust you with this. You are too weak, Aqua. Too raw. I have seen the path you would take."
"The moment you learned his identity, you would rush toward him with all the subtlety of a storm, and you would self-destruct upon impact. You would achieve nothing but your own obliteration."
Her voice dropped to a whisper that seemed to coil around the very core of my being. "You must become more. You must cease to be a boy with a vendetta. Become a director. A capitalist."
"A titan whose influence is so vast, so entrenched in this nation, that when you finally choose to remove a high-profile star from the board, the world will see a business decision, a tragic accident, a scandalous fall—not a murder."
"Build a fortress of power and legitimacy. Only from within such a fortress can you deliver true justice."
She paused, letting the scale of the task sink in. "Do that. Become that man. And I shall help you with the full extent of my abilities."
"I will not just help you kill them. I will give you the blueprint for their ruin. I will show you how to humiliate them, to strip them of everything they cherish before the end."
"I will guide you in delivering slow, exquisite pain, a mirror of the agony they have made you live with every single day. I will help you cross off every last name on that list."
I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her oath settling in the dark corners of my soul. "You said it yourself, Goddess."
"I did," Tsukuyomi replied, her tone absolute, ironclad. "I swear it upon my name and my eternal soul. You will get your revenge."
"Thanks…" I murmured, the word feeling inadequate but carrying the full weight of a newfound, terrible pact.
With that, I turned and walked out of the alley, leaving the scent of Kaburagi's cigar smoke and divine promises behind.
The cool air of the outside world felt different now.
It was no longer just air; it was the first breath of a new campaign.
My first deliberate step into the heart of the entertainment industry began now.
And my revenge had truly, finally begun.