InsomniaWL
patreon
603 – The Frenzy
🕑 Added 2025-10-21 18:34:00 +0000 UTCIt all started with a casual rumor, one of those “I heard from a friend” posts spreading online.
That Hojou Kyousuke was working on a new book.
Soon after came the interviews in well-known magazines, where the author himself talked about his upcoming release.
From the moment the publishing contract was signed, the marketing machine went into overdrive.
Promotional campaigns running day and night, each day more intense than the last.
Even Sayaka, all the way in Nara, called Mitsuha to ask if she’d managed to get her hands on the new book.
And today the day the official posters dropped — the internet went wild.
Fans screamed.
Eriri’s artwork, already known for its detailed and elegant style, looked absolutely stunning on the realistic, dramatic posters.
There were three in total — one for each murder scene in the novel.
In each, the protagonist’s face was hidden in shadow; only the sharp black suit and the glint of silver cufflinks stood out.
If not for the bound and helpless “judge” on the floor, anyone might have mistaken the man for a nobleman attending a grand ball rather than a killer.
Displayed in front of bookstores, the posters had the same magnetic charm as a theater marquee.
The mysterious, elegant figure seemed less like a murderer and more like an actor inviting you to watch his play, and people couldn’t resist stepping in to ask about the book.
Online, it was even crazier. Profile pictures, banners, status posts — everywhere you looked, the murder-scene posters were there.
And along with the images came the same chilling line written across each one:
———————————————————————
“So, this time… were you satisfied with my trick?”
———————————————————————
The phrase spread like wildfire across social media, sending Google Trends skyrocketing and topping Yahoo’s hot searches.
It was as if those words carried a kind of dark magic, once people saw them, they couldn’t get them out of their heads.
At school, some mischievous boy would smack his friend’s butt and, before getting chased around the courtyard, shout:
“Ooh~ So, this time, were you satisfied with my trick?”
An older sister, after secretly eating the dorayaki her little sister had queued three hours for, would grin and say the same line.
A pimply boy, nervously confessing to his longtime crush over text, panicked when she replied with a single question mark — and sent back,
“So, this time, were you satisfied with my trick?”
He dove straight into the pit of social death… but luck was on his side: the girl turned out to be a die-hard fan of Hojou-sensei.
She ignored the confession entirely and started passionately recommending all of Hojou’s novels to him.
The boy, realizing his crush had just spoken to him — thanks to Hojou — swore then and there that Hojou Kyousuke would be his eternal idol.
Someone even posted their own fake obituary on social media, and when panicked friends rushed to their house, they laughed and said:
“So, this time, were you satisfied with my trick?”
...and then had to empty their wallet to apologize.
In an era where even a cat can have millions of followers, a single catchy phrase can ignite an entire carnival.
But what truly pushed the line into viral legend was when the entertainment industry joined the chaos.
It began with a washed-up actor from a third-rate drama.
Seeing how popular the phrase had become online, he decided to jump on the trend for clout.
To everyone’s surprise, his dying show suddenly shot up in attention.
Soon, the internet was flooded with comments like:
———————————————————————
“Satisfied? Satisfied my ass! The protagonist falls into a garbage truck and survives, but doesn’t even think to kick it away and crush the villain behind him?
If I were the director, I’d kill the editor first, then you!”
“Satisfied? Oh, I’m so satisfied. A dozen bad guys with machine guns can’t beat one guy with a handgun? My boogers have more logic than this script.”
“The heroes don’t even double-check their kills? So IQ is inversely proportional to beauty after all.
How’d you even get the lead role? Oh wait, the budget was only three million? Sorry, my bad — this really is a three-million-dollar trick. Props to the screenwriter.”
“Please, every member of your production team, go buy Hojou-sensei’s novels right now. Maybe they can save what’s left of your brains.”
———————————————————————
The online mob was having a field day. Normally, they’d have lost interest after a while, but that clever little actor gave them a perfect outlet for all that pent-up energy.
Suddenly, fortune smiled upon the production team.
When the show’s producer got a call saying video stores were restocking their CDs, he was utterly confused.
But once he found out what happened.
He rushed to the nearest bookstore, bought every one of Hojou Kyousuke’s novels.
And gathered the cast, who had been working part-time jobs elsewhere, and had them take a group photo each holding The Devotion of Suspect X.
He posted it with the rising CD sales chart and the caption:
———————————————————————
“So, this time, were you satisfied with my trick?”
———————————————————————
The angry comments stopped dead.
———————————————————————
“Ah… so that’s your trick, huh?”
“Damn it. I just became an accomplice.”
“Whoever hired this producer — give that man a raise.”
———————————————————————
The narrative flipped instantly.
What had started as a desperate clout-chase became a masterclass in marketing — a trick worthy of Hojou’s own stories.
The internet was entertained, the production team made a profit, and even TV networks came calling to license the show.
The once-irrelevant actor suddenly got flooded with offers from other cheap dramas.
Because who could resist jumping on a viral wave?
Nobody.
And as that garbage-tier drama reaped unexpected success, others grew restless.
After all, this wasn’t just any trend — this was literary prestige.
Normally, highbrow literary circles looked down on “actors, idols, or voice actors” as if they were beneath them.
There was even that one time a mystery novel was adapted into a film.
A famous actress, trying to curry favor with the author, confessed on live TV that it was her favorite book.
When the episode aired, the author publicly blasted her online:
———————————————————————
“Do you even understand what you read?”
———————————————————————
It wasn’t arrogance — it was self-preservation.
Imagine attending a literary salon full of elite figures.
One author says, “The chairman of the Sankin Group discussed my latest work with me.”
Another says, “Her Majesty the Queen invited me to give a lecture.”
And then your turn comes…
“Ah yes, a TV actress really likes my book.”
The laughter would be deafening.
“Hahaha, so your novels only attract entertainers now, do they?”
A humiliation no proud author could bear.
And now, unbelievably, the entertainment industry could openly ride on the coattails of literature.
Not just any literature either — this was Hojou Kyousuke, the writer hailed as “the brightest hope of the new century” and “the Heisei Era’s Romantic Genius.”
Even if no one knew much about his new book yet, everyone was sure that his older masterpiece, The Devotion of Suspect X, was bound to be adapted into a film.
For actors and idols, that meant one thing, if they were lucky enough to catch Hojou’s attention, their careers could skyrocket overnight.
So one after another, celebrities joined the craze, mimicking the internet’s favorite prank with that iconic line:
“So, this time… were you satisfied with my trick?”
Because in the age of online fame, attention is a zero-sum game.
If you don’t grab the spotlight, someone else will.
Two stars with the same fanbase — one jumps on the trend, the other ignores it and instantly, their popularity gap widens.
That’s the curse of the viral era: if you don’t join the party, you’re already falling behind.
Soon, the line went beyond viral — it exploded. Even at school, Hojou Kyousuke couldn’t escape hearing it from every corner.
It got so bad, he felt his scalp tingle every time someone said it.
And of course, the one having the most fun with it all… was Sakura.
During break time, Hojou Kyousuke sat at his desk, replying to Kisaki and the publisher on his phone, when suddenly, two small hands covered his eyes.
Before he could react, his head was caught between two soft, warm things.
“Guess who~?” came a bright, playful voice from behind.
Did he even need to guess? That faint morning-dew scent — it could only be his Sakura.
But then… something didn’t feel right.
Sakura’s figure was nice, yes, but this softness was on another level.
He didn’t even have to think. His brain automatically matched the sensation with a face —
“Shouko?” he blurted out.
No one else could’ve pulled this off. Only the devious mastermind Yamauchi Sakura would make poor Nishimiya Shouko do something this bold in a crowded classroom.
“Wrong~!” Sakura’s voice sang back.
‘Wrong, my foot,’ Kyousuke thought.
‘That feeling was definitely Shouko!’
He would’ve staked his life on it — but saying it aloud? Not a chance.
Luckily, Sakura wasn’t totally merciless.
She let out a teasing hum, pushing him even deeper into that soft trap.
Kyousuke tried to cheat by sniffing, he’d always relied on his sharp sense of smell.
But Sakura had anticipated that too; while covering his eyes, she used her pinkies to plug his nose.
All he could smell was her perfume.
No matter how many guesses he made, he kept saying “Shouko.”
And honestly, what else could he say?
Sure, Kawasaki Saki from class might rival Shouko in that department, but could he really say that out loud? He’d be dead before lunch.
Finally, Sakura sighed dramatically.
“Kyousuke, you really are a hopeless idiot.”
Light returned as she uncovered his eyes, and he immediately spotted a flustered, crimson-faced Nishimiya Shouko, with Yuigahama Yui squirming in Sakura’s arms, unable to escape.
Oh no.
Kyousuke’s mind raced, eyes darting between Shouko and Yui, and when he realized the “trap,” he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hahaha~ So, this time, were you satisfied with my trick?”
Sakura burst out laughing, squeezing Yui tighter.
Yui’s uniform pulled in just the right way to enhance certain hidden features that usually went unnoticed.
“Pretty good, huh? That’s our ultimate combo move!”
“I admit defeat,” Kyousuke said, hanging his head in mock shame.
To think he hadn’t noticed the difference in texture — how disgraceful! Such a failure for the “master of mystery”!
Clenching his fists, he vowed redemption.
“But next time, I won’t be fooled again!”
He straightened up, voice booming dramatically:
“You stand before the 2015 Honya Taisho winner, a nominee for the Japanese Mystery Writers Award — the one and only creator of impossible tricks! In my presence, no deception can remain unsolved!”
Sakura’s eyes gleamed. “Excellent spirit! Then prove your pride as the ultimate detective!”
With a flourish, she waved her hand. Yui squeaked and dashed back to her seat, covering her face.
Kyousuke closed his eyes again.
He felt the same familiar hands cover them… followed by a warm embrace wrapping around his upper body.
The faint scent of rain and dew surrounded him.
And then, right by his ear—
“So, this time… were you satisfied with my trick?”
Her voice was soft, teasing, full of laughter.
For a moment, every thought vanished from Kyousuke’s mind.
He smiled quietly.
“…Sorry,” he whispered back. “I lied. I can’t see through this one.”
He placed his hands gently over Sakura’s and smiled.
“Ehehe~”
Her laughter rang like a bell, bright and sweet.
And with that, the Operation: Promotion for “Writer K’s Dreams and Death” ended in total victory.
It was a glorious internet festival —
The silly netizens had their fun, discovering that Hojou-sensei wasn’t just a genius writer but also surprisingly funny.
The celebrities gained more followers, using the trend to reinvent their public images.
The publisher received a flood of new orders, locking in bestseller status before the book even hit shelves.
Only Hojou Kyousuke himself got nothing out of it… except the money.
———————————————————————
That night, in a cozy izakaya in Akasaka—
“Cheers!”
Hojou Ichirou Kyousuke’s father, raised his glass high and downed his beer in one go. Just as he reached for a skewer, his old friend Utsumi grinned and said:
“Hey Ichirou, looks like your son’s turning into a real big-shot author. Want my firm to start handling his copyright contracts early?”
“Ha! That brat’s still got a long way to go,” Ichirou scoffed though his chin was tilted proudly toward the ceiling. “If he heard you say that, his tail would wag right off his back. And his royalties? Please, not even worth our firm’s time yet.”
“Pfft, you liar!” laughed another friend, Tamai. “You sound like a man performing rakugo. That smug face of yours is criminal!”
Ichirou struck an even prouder pose, hands on hips, laughing with the kind of unrestrained joy he hadn’t felt since winning his first big case after college.
“But hey,” Utsumi said suddenly, slamming his wallet onto the table. “You’ve got a great son— but we’re not doing too bad ourselves!”
Tamai followed suit, dropping his wallet with a grin.
Ichirou blinked.
Both wallets were completely empty — not a single coin inside.
“…What the hell?”
The two friends smirked in perfect unison.
“So, this time… were you satisfied with our trick?”
