Chapter 138 - Minami, You’re So Filthy! 

Time passed quickly.

And in the blink of an eye, it was already the next day.

As usual, his body clock woke him up on time.

And as expected—

Akane was already gone.

Who knew what time that woman had left?

She hadn't even left a note.

Yawning, Minami wasn't particularly bothered.

After a quick wash, he headed out for his morning run.

After last night's typhoon, the streets were a mess.

Scattered garbage, broken tree branches, fallen leaves—

People always said Japan's streets were spotless, with not even a cigarette butt in sight.

But that only applied to residential areas.

Because in reality—

The commercial districts and shopping streets were a complete mess at night.

Drunken salarymen.

Rowdy, intoxicated young people.

Not a single one of them cared about "public decency."

After finishing his usual running route, Minami returned home.

[Your physique has slightly improved. Current Stamina: 7.]

"Another perfect day."

Admiring his handsome reflection in the mirror, Minami ignored the system's ["Narcissism Increased"] notification and headed to school.

The moment he stepped into the classroom,

He spread out his manuscript and continued writing yesterday's script.

Since he had already structured the entire plot—

His writing flowed effortlessly.

In just thirty minutes before class started, he had already completed a large portion.

At this rate, he'd be finished by noon.

As the teacher slid open the door, Minami paused his writing and thought—

"Looks like I underestimated my own speed."

Meanwhile—

"Sigh…"

Akane leaned on her desk, gazing out the window.

She was still thinking about the script Minami had mentioned.

And regretting it.

"Why the hell did I agree to this?"

She had so many other things to do.

Yet here she was, sighing to herself.

A few 'friends' nearby noticed and assumed she was still bothered by the fact that she hadn't managed to surpass Minami in the rankings.

One of the male students casually tried to console her while taking the opportunity to belittle Minami.

"It's fine, Shinjo-san. I know what kind of person Minami is—he might have good grades, but he's nothing more than a bookworm who only knows how to memorize things. You don't need to let it get to you."

But to his surprise, as soon as he finished speaking, Akane's expression turned displeased.

"Just good grades?"

She crossed her arms, her crimson eyes shifting toward the male student—who she couldn't even be bothered to remember the name of. Her brow furrowed.

"Do you even know Minami-kun?"

"Huh?"

"You don't even try to understand him, yet you stand here badmouthing him in front of me. Don't you think that's a little out of line?"

"Uh…"

The student was left speechless, not knowing how to respond.

Akane turned away, pushing down the discomfort rising in her chest—

What the hell? Why am I even defending that insufferable narcissist?

Shouldn't she be happy when others talked badly about him?

And yet, hearing them insult Minami somehow felt… unpleasant.

She thought about it for a while before finally coming up with a justification.

That guy was probably writing a script for her right now.

In other words, he was working for her.

So, standing up for him a little was only fair.

Akane convinced herself.

But she still couldn't help glancing out the window.

I wonder how far along that idiot is with the script.

Will he finish it today?

No, no.

That was impossible.

Even if it was just a simple stage play, writing a proper script wasn't something that could be done in a day or two.

Akane figured it would take Minami at least three or four days to complete.

After all—

"He's not some kind of superhuman who can just whip up a script that surprises even me. And inspiration doesn't always come so easily."

Akane muttered to herself, shifting her focus back to class.

Lunchtime.

"You already finished the script?"

Akane blinked in disbelief at Minami, who had approached her while she was about to open a pack of ham-filled bread.

"Yeah."

Minami, as calm as ever, simply nodded and snatched the bread from her hands.

"Perfect timing. I haven't eaten yet."

"you—."

Shinjo's mouth hung open in shock as she watched Minami take a bite of her bread.

That was the bread she had specifically asked Friend #5 to buy for her!

What the hell was this guy doing?!

Her eye twitched as she watched him casually reach for the tomato juice she had left on the desk and take a sip.

Her flawless smile twitched at the edges as she gritted her teeth.

"…Minami-sensei."

"Hm?"

"Should I go ahead and fetch you a napkin to wipe your mouth as well?"

"You're too kind. I'll take it."

"..."

Akane finally lost it.

Dodging the bewildered looks from the other students at the table, she leaned in closer and lowered her voice.

"…Do you have any shame?"

This insufferably good-looking bastard had not only come over uninvited but also stolen her lunch, and now he expected her to hand him a napkin too?

Did he think she was that easy to take advantage of?!

And there was no way in hell she was letting her napkin touch his mouth—that would be disgusting!

"It's just a meal. At least take a look at the script."

Completely unfazed, Minami handed her the manuscript.

Akane clenched her jaw.

She shot him a glare.

"…This script better be worth it."

Taking the manuscript from him, she glanced at the title.

"The Monster of the Human Hearts"

The name definitely had that old-school Showa-era Ultraman vibe to it.

The question was—how was the content?

Akane looked up at Minami again.

To be honest—

She didn't have high hopes for this.

From the moment he said he'd write the script to actually finishing it—

It had only been a single night and a single morning.

At that speed, calling it a rushed draft wouldn't even be an exaggeration.

Sure, Minami was a genius.

But expecting him to write a tokusatsu script that could impress a hardcore fan like her in just one night?

That was just absurd.

But…

Even if she wasn't expecting much—

She still opened the script.

She wanted to see—

Just what kind of story the guy who trashed her own script had written.

If this turns out to be terrible, I'm going to make fun of him relentlessly.

With that thought in mind, she started reading.

And then—

She fell silent.

It wasn't because the script was underwhelming.

On the contrary—

It was so well-written that she had no words.

The story structure was simple.

The Japanese government dumps nuclear waste into the ocean.

This awakens Thanasis, a kaiju that had been lying dormant beneath the sea.

In order to stop the pollution, the monster begins attacking Japan's coastal regions.

A seemingly basic premise.

But it was precisely its simplicity that drew Akane in.

Especially—

The way Thanasis was portrayed as a guardian of the ocean.

The way the protagonist's internal conflict about nuclear pollution and his reluctance to harm Thanasis was described.

It hit her hard.

"I know… as humans, the ones destroying this planet are us."

Under pressure from his superiors, the protagonist was forced to develop the Gene Missile.

But as he worked, he muttered to himself—

"Someday, we will suffer the consequences of our own actions."

"I'm sorry, Thanasis."

Caught between the Japanese government and Thanasis, he struggled with guilt.

Finally, the Gene Missile was launched.

And it hit its target.

Just when Akane thought the story was over—

Thanasis moved again.

After spending so long submerged in nuclear-polluted waters, its genes had mutated.

Its flesh rotted.

The ocean churned.

Its agonized cries were like the collective wails of billions of marine creatures.

Arrogant humanity paid the price.

Tokyo's economic district was razed to the ground.

And after destroying everything—

Thanasis stopped moving.

It turned its gaze toward the sea—

The place that had once been its home.

And as the protagonist stared at the ruins of Tokyo—at the lifeless body of Thanasis—

He whispered,

"Was Thanasis truly the monster?"

He clutched his head in agony.

"No… we were the real monsters."

"Beasts in human skin."

The curtain closed.

Thanasis won—and lost.

Humanity lost—and won.

A story so tragic and breathtakingly beautiful that words couldn't do it justice.

Yes.

Akane felt that "beautifully tragic" was the only way to describe it.

From Thanasis's death—

To the protagonist's final whisper beneath the setting sun—

It carried an undeniable, heartbreaking beauty.

Akane sat there.

Completely silent.

After a brief silence, she couldn't help but look at Minami and ask,

"Are you sure you want to use this script?"

"What's wrong? Is it not well-written?"

"No… it's just…"

Akane Shinjo opened her mouth slightly.

She really didn't want to admit it.

But in the end, she still nodded.

"It's really well-written."

Yes.

That was her honest opinion.

It was truly well-written.

It wouldn't even be an exaggeration to call it outstanding!

Nowadays, tokusatsu shows had to be tied to toy merchandise sales, leading to terrible scripts that screamed, "We're about to sell this new toy! It has LED lights! Hurry up and buy it!"—a blatant cash grab.

But the script that Minami had written…

It gave Akane the pure tokusatsu feeling of the Showa era.

Back then, tokusatsu wasn't shackled by corporate interests.

Every writer who worked on a tokusatsu script was simply trying their best to tell a good story, to convey a meaningful message.

And that was precisely the kind of tokusatsu Akane loved the most.

Not to mention, the script Minami had written was centered around kaiju—her absolute favorite!

That made her all the more excited and satisfied.

If the perfect score was 100…

Then in her hands, this script was a one-billion-point masterpiece—the kind she wanted to film right this moment and watch right away.

But—

"Will this script… really be well-received?"

Akane repeatedly flipped through the tokusatsu script in her hands, unconsciously asking Minami the question.

Yes.

Minami had written an exceptional script.

Whether it was the depiction of the Japanese government, the male protagonist's characterization, or Thanasis' desire to protect the ocean…

All of it was written in a way that was inexplicably captivating and incredibly compelling.

However…

Despite how excellent the script was, the amount of real-world commentary it contained was simply too much.

Including the issue of nuclear wastewater disposal…

If this script were actually performed at the culture festival…

Even Akane had no idea what kind of backlash it might cause.

It was brilliant—so brilliant that she wanted to see it immediately.

But it was also risky—so risky that it might not be well-received.

That was Akane's honest and complete evaluation of this script.

But—

"As long as you like it, isn't that enough?"

"Huh…?"

Akane froze.

"I mean, you like it—that's enough, isn't it?"

Minami asked calmly, "I wrote this script for you. It's something you wanted to see. If you're satisfied with it, then that's more than enough for me."

"Then."

After a slight pause, Minami continued,

"Why should I care about anyone else's opinion?"

Yes.

Whether it was well-received or not…

What did that have to do with him?

From the very start, this script had been written for Akane.

As long as she liked it, that was all that mattered to him.

As he said this, there was still a bit of tomato sauce on the corner of Minami's mouth. He was lowering his head, searching for a napkin to wipe it off.

But just as he was about to find one—

A light pink handkerchief was suddenly extended toward him.

"Hmm?"

Minami instinctively looked up.

And then, he saw Akane, face slightly flushed, holding out the handkerchief to him.

"Here."

She turned her head to the side. "You still have stuff on your mouth, yet you're saying such embarrassing things. Seriously, you're hopeless."

Her turned-away face was tinged with a soft shade of red.

Though her tone sounded annoyed, if one listened carefully, they would detect the gentle warmth hidden within it.

Minami didn't say anything unnecessary. He simply took Akane's handkerchief and wiped his mouth clean.

Watching him do this, Akane, now resting her cheek against her palm, unconsciously curled her lips into a small smile.

Ah.

This guy really is—