Tokyo Game Show, launched in 1996.
A massive video game expo in Tokyo, showcasing consoles, entertainment software, PC games, and gaming peripherals.
At such events, game enthusiasts display every shade of human emotion.
Some slump in chairs, dazed by bootleg merch, only to transform—eyes blazing, fingers trembling—at the reveal of a masterpiece.
Today, the venue teemed with crowds, like shoppers in a mall or boys in a wonderland, utterly at ease.
Demo stations were mobbed, lines snaking or packed three layers deep.
Sure, the organizers hired glamorous booth models, but to true gamers, they were distractions. Were offline battles not thrilling enough? Early demos not enticing? Worse, they blocked shots with life-sized props and monster figures.
Hiroaki Tsuchiya, a devoted ACG scholar and practitioner, a self-funded enthusiast, ran a blog as a niche expert. His mission: spread the gospel of iconic works. He never missed a major event, a steadfast evangelist.
Today, he was among the fervent throng.
A classic bear-type guy—sturdy, warm, emotionally earnest—Hiroaki's build promised endurance for long-haul fandom. Clad in a breezy white shirt, trendy cropped jeans, versatile sneakers, minimalist square glasses, and a tech-stuffed backpack, a thin towel tied around his forehead.
Any fan would call him pro.
Now, Hiroaki clutched an expensive camera, hurrying through.
At a doujin event, he'd snap young, stunning cosplayers, but today's mission was different.
Weaving through the vast hall, sensing kindred spirits, Hiroaki's face softened with the comfort of finding his tribe.
Around him, friendly fans chatted joyously, strangers bonding over shared passions in a warm, electric atmosphere.
Hiroaki puffed out his chest, making his custom shirt's slogan—"My Eternal Waifu"—more prominent.
A fellow devotee spotted him, and within seconds, their knowing smiles forged a brotherly bond, like sworn siblings under a warrior's oath.
A anime love spoke louder than words.
Amid the harmony, the event kicked off with fanfare.
On a grand screen, Idol King 2's logo burst forth with swirling petals and ribbons, dazzling the crowd.
Fans' eyes lit up, hands raised, cheering, whistling.
The trailer followed, set to a peppy, cute tune. Girls in frilly dresses danced, skirts twirling, lips glossy, legs radiant. The crowd erupted, strangers syncing in rhythmic claps. Hiroaki led the charge, his veteran instincts rallying the group, tightening the beat.
"Ami! Let's shine together again!"
"Ritsuko, I'll never give up on you!"
"Azusa! Azusa! Be yourself—you're the best!"
Fans roared, thrilled to see their beloved idols unchanged, vowing to propel them to the top.
Even casuals joined, their cheers turning pro, positions orderly, chants like tidal waves. They owned the spotlight, outshining the day's displays.
The prelude ended, lights dimmed, and fans reluctantly paused.
A suited man strode onstage, mic in hand, bowing with confidence.
"Dear players—no, producers—thank you for joining us at the Idol King sequel reveal. I'm President Kuroi, deeply grateful for your support!"
Thunderous applause.
"You're as eager as we are. Compared to the first, Idol King 2 enhances trainable idols, songs, and story. We're confident it'll deliver a fresh experience!"
The speaker smiled.
"Our company values this series, exploring how to unleash its full potential. We've made bold changes, like removing the divisive online battles, crafting a pure, immersive idol world!"
No more leading waifus against rivals?
Hiroaki felt a pang but, ever chill, let it slide. Some grumbled, though.
Minor issue.
"The game's buzz, support, and growing fanbase—new producers joining every second—are thanks to you. To welcome this wave, we've added a new group for diversity. Allow me to introduce 961's supernova rival team, Mars!"
With a commanding wave, lights flashed, and the screen played a stunning trailer.
Fans leaned forward, excited for new, gorgeous additions.
Especially villains—nothing beat haughty, gothic lolita antagonists.
Men loved the dark.
These lofty figures would surely be trainable in DLC, their icy facades melting into tender gazes. Hearts raced.
The screen went black, then a poised monologue began.
"Idols are merchants of hope, crafted perfection. Without grasping this, you can't uphold the role or its duties."
As expected, the voice was crisp, elegant, evoking a lavish, decadent era. A figure in a gown bathed in golden light.
Everyone froze, faces shifting—pensive, stunned, bewildered.
"Maintaining lies close to truth, turning crafted truth into joy for fans, sacrificing all for their dreams—that's the true path, the essence, the ultimate."
The pure, rich voice pressed on.
"Chasing vanity or fleeting adoration? You're fragile illusions, unworthy even as stepping stones."
Silence lingered, minds racing.
Why… a man's voice?
"I get it," Hiroaki muttered, brows furrowed, a spark hitting. "The rival team's producer—our enemy!"
Nearby fans nodded, catching on.
A scheming agent, binding villainous idols with exploitative contracts and profit-driven ideals.
We'd be their saviors!
Spirits lifted, fans itched to leap in heroically.
Men loved playing heroes.
"What's the point of words? Captain, let reality wake these naive dreamers," Another voice rang out.
Captain?
"Sorry, they're not ones for mercy. I'll try to soften them," A third voice chimed.
"Fight on the grandest stage to prove who embodies the true idol!"
The voices layered, punctuated by a heavy note. The gray screen shattered, revealing intricate artwork and bios amid swirling roses.
[Taiichi Otada, a cheerful boy with morning grumpiness, a lively neighbor kid, dance prodigy.]
"Here's for me? Ugh, I prefer strawberry, but since it's from you, I'll scarf it down!" A sporty figure with a hair tie, flashing a V-sign, beamed.
[Natsume Ichinose, an elegant, mature member, skilled with instruments, ex-therapist, aiming to make everyone happy.]
"Will you open your heart to me?" A tall, austere figure appeared.
[Haruma Tenjoin, a pure seventeen-year-old, singing for freedom, cherishing every cheer, ace at card games.]
"Care to dance, just you and me?" Golden hair flowed, a warm smile and courtly pose—a classic prince.
The three figures aligned, delivering the final line.
"We look forward to meeting you."
Info dump complete.
Lights returned, the stage bright.
Silence fell, time stilled. Everyone stood frozen, mouths agape, staring at the three charming boys' smiles, unmoving.
The speaker continued, unfazed.
"Now, the main event—nine trainable idols. Look at the screen!"
Hiroaki glanced up, but his heart skipped. As others noticed, murmurs grew.
"You've seen it—the original agency's idols, like Io Minase, Ami Futami, Azusa Miura, and Ritsuko Akizuki, now a producer, aren't playable," The speaker clarified.
"Why?" Someone blurted.
"After a generation of growth, thanks to you, they've soared. In this story, they're a mature, respected rival team."
The speaker clenched a fist, voice fervent.
"At this grand occasion, I'll share our launch events for Idol King 2. Most notable is a special CD single. Unlike our usual plans, you decide the first one."
The speaker's passion surged.
"Unity is our game's heart. Post-launch, the idol with the highest CD sales during the event will star in an exclusive deluxe single! Producers, join your beloved idols to reach the top again, showing bonds that transcend time and space, forging memories!"
Pausing, he grew fiercer.
"More exciting news awaits, but let's take a break. Enjoy live music from the original's hits—see you soon!"
A hired band took the stage, familiar melodies echoing. But no one waved or cheered.
Everyone was processing the bombshell.
By the second song, fans snapped back.
Snap.
A glowstick broke.
…
Beep, beep, beeeep.
A groggy man poked his head from the covers, fumbling through idol magazines to grab his blaring phone.
"Hello?"
"Takizawa, we're in deep," Kashiwai whispered.
"Why so secretive, like a spy?"
"We're done for, burned like a fallen warrior," Kashiwai said.
"What, a volcano erupted, and Japan's sinking?!" Takizawa bolted upright.
"…Not that bad."
"Then what?"
"We're getting roasted online."
"???"
***
Hi everyone, I hope you're all doing well. I just wanted to let you know that right now I'm working on a really good and promising fate fanfic. If you're interested in reading it, feel free to give it a try:
[Fate/Max Level Returner]
Synopsis:
What if you took your max-level account and replayed the entire story from the beginning?
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