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405 – If He Wants It, She’ll Give It
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 15:19:44 +0000 UTCThe interview proceeded in an orderly manner.
Kyousuke consciously cut back on his own speaking time, giving Eriri more opportunities to ask questions.
Because, honestly, this idiot was working really hard—it was obvious she’d prepared a lot for today.
And Eriri, being a veteran otaku who's been active in the doujin scene for years, lived up to expectations.
Although she was nervous at first, she adapted quickly.
Soon, she was confidently bringing up industry-standard issues to question the candidate about.
While the interview was going smoothly on one side, over in Meeting Room 2...
Kosaka Akane sat with a face full of doubt and disbelief as she stared at the group of people in front of her.
A man who bore about a 70% resemblance to Hojou Kyousuke handed her a business card the moment they met.
She thought it was just a standard self-introduction, but then the man immediately said:
“I’m Kyousuke’s father, Hojou Ichirou. This afternoon, my firm will begin preparing a legal case against Mars for unfair competition targeting the Tansan Animation Company. You’ll be receiving a lawyer’s letter by tomorrow.”
Akane looked down at the card and noticed that it didn’t even bear the name “Hojou Ichirou.”
The name printed on it was Houjou Yousuke, and while the firm did include "Hojou" in its name, clearly this wasn’t his real name.
So now the kid’s parent was here to stir up trouble?
The thought felt absurd to her.
Not that the situation itself was ridiculous—but Hojou Kyousuke, a guy like that, needing his mom and dad to bail him out?
Wasn’t she the one who just got chewed out by him a few hours ago?
Even her assistant had been dragged into that mess and scolded on the spot.
...Well, never mind. That assistant had already been fired anyway.
“Hojou-san—if I can call you that I can’t accept what you’re saying. My relationship with Tansan and your son is perfectly amicable. There is absolutely no unfair competition happening here.”
Akane shook her head and pushed the business card back across the table.
What a joke.
She knew the Unfair Competition Prevention Act like the back of her hand.
Every plan had been cleared by her legal team.
There was no way they could find any fault in her actions.
“No problem,” Ichirou replied, pushing the card back with a calm smile. “Once the lawsuit begins, we’re confident we’ll win.”
His confidence made Akane narrow her eyes.
She began recalling all the information she had on Hojou Kyousuke’s family.
Wait—wasn’t this guy just a cowboy running a small ranch in Hokkaido or something?
What the hell? You're telling me a rancher is now suddenly taking on corporate lawsuits?
Is he some kind of vigilante?
If you're this capable, why are you wasting your time raising cattle?
That realization alone left her stunned.
But before she could fully process it, another voice chimed in.
“Indeed. Your company’s actions have made me question the very integrity of Japan’s business climate.
On the next working day, I’ll be filing a formal protest with the Japanese government.”
Akane turned toward the voice.
One glimpse of that golden hair was enough to identify him—Eiri’s father, a hardcore otaku and leader of the doujin group egoist-lily.
At every convention, he proudly sold 18+ doujinshi out in the open.
‘Oh, for crying out loud…’
So the little girl really did call in her parents.
Akane gritted her teeth.
Okay, kids being spoiled was one thing, but you—you’re a diplomat! Do you even remember that?
You're here threatening a protest?
Fine, but push me too far and I’ll leak your little 18+ hobby to the press.
Let’s see if your home country doesn’t drag you back overnight.
But instead of saying it aloud, Akane swallowed the words and calmly replied:
“My situation with your son has been resolved. I’ll be issuing a public apology later this afternoon.”
She sounded a little defeated.
She’d just been strong-armed by Kyousuke earlier and now she was being threatened with legal action and international complaints.
“Resolved already? That’s too bad. I guess there’s no need for me to step in, then?”
Yet another unfamiliar voice.
Akane turned to face the source and was immediately hit by a wave of alcohol stench.
The man’s face was clearly still hungover, with crust still in the corner of his eyes.
“Excuse me,” she asked, less than politely. “And you are?”
“Heh... I’m Osaka Gou, a board member of the Mystery Writers Association. My student, Akiha Yasuhiro, wrote the script for your company’s latest detective game.”
Gou’s voice was weak, and even he looked like he was getting dizzy from his own breath.
Honestly, he knew Hojou didn’t really need help, but he showed up anyway. That’s what friends do.
“Hojou is close with Chairman Konno, and a top contender for this year’s Mystery Writers Award. If you upset him, Mars might find it difficult to work with the Association in the future.”
Osaka Gou yawned loudly.
His casual tone carried real weight.
“You’re being modest, Osaka-san. Don’t forget—you’re the front-runner to be our next chairman.”
Another stranger chimed in. Seriously, how many powerful friends does Hojou Kyousuke even have?
Akane turned again. “And you are?”
“Ah, me? Just a nobody,” Mashiro Masashi replied with a modest smile. “Just wondering if Hojou needs a scriptwriter. Tokyo’s expensive. Gotta earn a living somehow.”
Young, cheerful, and clearly in better shape than Osaka Gou.
“You’re too modest!” Misaki Megaku shouted theatrically. “You’re the leading candidate for the Nobel Prize in Literature next year!”
“Oh come on, I wouldn’t dare compete with you—you’re the one going for the Akutagawa, Naoki, and Nobel trifecta!”
Akane gave up asking their names. It didn’t matter. All of them were here for one reason: to back Hojou Kyousuke.
She turned to the younger members of the group.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Makki Hojou—Kyousuke’s older brother. I run a motorcycle shop. I came to see if we could become one of Tansan’s first sponsors.”
Makki nodded politely, his demeanor calm and measured.
Everyone knew what Hojou Kyousuke’s first project would be: Attack on Titan. A motorcycle shop? A sponsor?
What, are you planning to replace the Survey Corps’ horses with motorcycles? Or maybe make the Titans ride them too? Motorcycle Titans?
Akane nodded—she understood. Birds of a feather really do flock together.
All of Hojou Kyousuke’s friends were just as outrageous as he was.
“I’m Kuroda Kaito, Hojou-aniki’s junior. My family runs a barbershop. I came to see if there’s a sponsorship opportunity too.”
Kaito was one of the “Fingers” who had followed Kyousuke through two consecutive kendo championship wins, before transferring with him to Soubu High.
His “barbershop” was actually a massive company with its own beauty school and over 300 branches nationwide.
Back in middle school, he’d also been Kyousuke’s go-to snack and fruit supplier.
If he hadn’t decided to follow his senpai, he’d probably be enjoying a quiet, comfortable life at a prestigious high school right now—instead of dragging himself here hungover to flaunt his connections.
“I’m here to hit someone.”
Noticing Kosaka Akane’s gaze, Goro Hatake pointed at his own nose and gave her a bright, confident smile as he answered.
Ah, so that’s it. Even back in school, he was already weaving his web of connections.
This… this is what Hojou Kyousuke meant by absolute power?
Kosaka Akane already knew she was the one this buzz-cut guy was here to punch, but she didn’t even have the energy to respond.
She slumped back into the sofa, exhausted.
It was like she’d kicked a hornet’s nest.
She hadn’t even managed to land a real blow on Kyousuke, yet all these people around him had started coming out of the woodwork.
Did that guy intentionally place her in this specific meeting room?
She remembered Kyousuke deliberately emphasizing “Meeting Room No. 2.” Now she was starting to suspect something.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
But before anyone could respond, it was pushed open.
“Hojou-san, are you sure you don’t want me to call our senpai from Osaka? He’s currently visiting the headquarters dojo—he’s the General Affairs Section Chief in the Criminal Division at Osaka Prefectural Police. I can have him here in no time.”
The man walked in loudly, like the police department paid salaries out of his own pocket.
Kosaka Akane didn’t even bother to speak anymore.
These people were absurdly coordinated.
A lawyer to sue her. A cop to arrest her.
If she tried to run, that ex-biker kid would probably rally a whole biker gang to block her off.
Then the buzz-cut guy would beat her to a pulp, and the hairdresser would give her a prison-appropriate haircut, and finally the writers would compose some tragic narrative and submit it to the newspapers for public ridicule.
What a full-service takedown.
Kyousuke sure knew how to assemble a squad.
If Kosaka Akane hadn’t been so aware that she was the designated “villain” in this story, she might’ve actually felt sorry for herself.
But come on—a department section chief? That’s it?
The political power of the Takaban family, rooted deeply in Osaka, was leagues beyond what these guys could imagine!
Still, what Kosaka Akane truly feared wasn’t official procedures.
It was the possibility that Kyousuke’s half-brained underlings might literally storm in and beat her senseless.
Now that would be a nightmare.
“Haha, there’s no need to trouble yourself, Naitou-san. The misunderstanding’s been cleared up. President Kosaka will be cooperating with Kyousuke’s company going forward.”
Hojou Ichirou stood up and politely turned down the offer from the man who claimed to be Kyousuke’s senior at the kendo dojo.
Truthfully, even he was stunned by the sheer strength of the network his son had built in just three years in Tokyo.
To be honest, he’d only found out about all this because his wife called and woke him up.
When he rushed over to the hotel where everyone else was staying, he saw they were all already organized and prepared to charge into the company and back up his son.
It was a ridiculous, even intimidating sight—faces full of murderous intent.
Especially that guy who had just entered, Naitou Akifumi, currently serving in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department.
He hadn’t even shown up to the celebratory party the night before but was now acting more excited than anyone else—like he’d hoped Kyousuke would get into trouble.
On the way over, he kept trying to cozy up to Hojou Ichirou, endlessly praising their Hokushin Itto-ryu style, listing how many high-ranking officers in the police force had trained under them, and boasting about their massive network.
After listening for a while, Ichirou had summed it up: “Let your son officially join our dojo, and the whole of Japan will open up to him.”
The desperation in his voice was hard to miss.
Apparently, his son wasn’t just popular with women—he had quite the fan club in other places too.
Being surrounded by such a passionate group was definitely a bit overwhelming, but Hojou Ichirou couldn’t help feeling proud of the son he’d raised.
These people weren’t just fair-weather friends.
They’d raise a toast when his son achieved something and draw their swords to protect him when he was in trouble.
Real, ride-or-die friends.
The only downside?
They really would draw their swords.
Thinking of this, Ichirou suddenly remembered that Eikichi Onizuka, that intense kid, had been left on the first floor to play games with some others.
A few more rough-looking high schoolers had also been placed in Meeting Room No. 1. If Kosaka Akane had gone there instead, she probably would’ve been beaten the moment she walked through the door.
“Resolved? Really?” Naitou Akifumi looked stunned.
“Impossible. I just checked with my senpai—Kosaka Akane’s no saint. There are enough people she’s driven to mental breakdowns to fill a whole sanatorium. There’s no way she’d fold so easily.”
“It’s true. President Kosaka said it herself earlier, didn’t you? That you’d be cooperating with ‘Tansan’, right, President?”
Ichirou turned toward Akane.
Because she had her back to the door, she hadn’t realized Naitou was in the room.
When she turned around and saw him, her expression shifted ever so slightly.
‘Crap… Did I say my name out loud earlier? Did Hojou-san mention it?’
Her senpai had told her in detail about Kosaka Akane’s terrifying background.
She was not someone to be messed with.
Cooperate?
Kosaka Akane rolled that word over in her mind.
She knew exactly what Kyousuke’s father was doing—leveraging his son’s growing network to pressure her.
But was she scared?
No.
Ever since her debut project got trashed as garbage, she’d sworn she’d never back down again.
Every step she’d taken since then had been toward her dreams.
She crossed one leg over the other and smiled, elegant and self-assured.
“Of course. Why else would I go to such lengths if not because I admire Hojou-sensei’s talent? No one in their right mind would pass up a chance to work with a genius like him.”
In that moment, Kosaka Akane changed her strategy.
The “Hojou Kyousuke Destruction Plan v4 – March 2015 – Kosaka Akane”
was officially rewritten into
The “Hojou Kyousuke Domestication Plan v1 – April 2015 – Kosaka Akane”
After spending the morning with him, she had come to understand his character.
Harsh methods would only provoke a stronger response. Just look at Aki Tomoya… and the chair that had been split clean in two.
And now, these people surrounding her were more proof than she needed.
Fine. Then she’d change tactics.
Kyousuke clearly wanted something from her.
Of course he did—anyone who wanted to succeed in the ACG industry would want to work with her and with Mars.
The resources she controlled were enough to make anyone drool.
Sure, the public only ever saw her as the tyrant who drove creators to mental breakdowns.
But had they ever considered that those people had willingly accepted her pressure?
Because with her guidance and her resources, they had improved.
They had gotten closer to their dreams.
If you want something, you have to pay a price. That’s just how the world works.
And if Hojou Kyousuke wanted it—she’d give it to him.
Then she’d let him discover for himself…
Whether slowly and painfully walking forward alone brings more “happiness”…
…or if it feels better, kneeling beneath her.
