"I won't say anything unnecessary. I don't really care what the Olympics ultimately turn into, but I insist that most people must be able to see a grand feast of modern pop culture. On this point, I will not compromise. What you're seeing now are the things the two directors of the opening ceremony have done recently. Do you think they're still qualified to continue serving as directors?"
Inside the conference room, some people wore grim expressions, some looked faintly pleased at others' misfortune, and others were plainly shocked.
At the same time, on one side of the large screen in the meeting room was a video feed from the Olympic Committee. Several IOC members were participating remotely.
On the main screen were photos and video clips related to the two directors responsible for the Olympic opening ceremony.
The content clearly revealed their recent unsavory actions.
One of the directors, who was in charge of Japanese traditional culture arrangements, had maintained overly intimate relationships with several female celebrities in private. Multiple photos all but confirmed it.
Of course, for a director, this alone could only be considered a minor problem. Being a director meant having social influence, and in Japanese society there was considerable tolerance toward cultural creators.
But some of the later photos were far more fatal.
They showed the directors engaging in shady backroom dealings.
No one knew which damned person had managed to take such photos—and with such clarity. It was as if someone had been watching this director for a long time, waiting patiently for him to expose a weakness before delivering a decisive blow.
All of this material had been stored in obscure corners of the internet.
Takayuki Aya was very familiar with those corners. With a small price paid, she could easily obtain such information.
In today's networked society, ninety-nine point nine percent of people were effectively transparent.
The only real questions were whether someone was worth digging into, and whether the person being investigated had a sufficiently strong background.
Those sitting stone-faced in the room were clearly supporters of that director.
Seeing this material, there was no way they could feel pleased.
The other director, who oversaw anime culture, had similarly unflattering material exposed.
Some might wonder whether Ono Sano, the director under Takayuki's command, also had a shady past.
But sorry—he really didn't. At least not during the Olympic period.
His status meant he had no need to do such things. First, he didn't lack money—he was already a director with worldwide influence.
And he cherished his reputation even more.
Takayuki had attracted him with generous pay and the prestigious title of Olympic director. Otherwise, he wouldn't have agreed so readily.
The compensation Takayuki offered was more than sufficient, leaving Ono Sano with no motivation whatsoever to engage in under-the-table dealings.
"Mr. Takayuki, do you mean that you want absolute control over the opening and closing ceremonies?" someone asked.
"Yes. That's exactly what I mean."
Takayuki made his intentions perfectly clear. He had no interest in meddling with other matters. His purpose was simply to define his demands clearly, without overreaching.
At that moment, several IOC members participating in the meeting spoke up as well.
Kaven said, "I now have a general understanding of the situation. Strictly speaking, this should be an internal matter for Japan. But honestly, what you've been doing is indeed inappropriate and has also affected the IOC's public reputation. Therefore, our unified recommendation is to allow Mr. Takayuki and his director, Mr. Ono Sano, to lead the opening and closing ceremonies. This is for the sake of the Olympics—and for Japan as well."
The IOC's stance was now crystal clear: they were standing firmly on Takayuki's side.
With that, Takayuki's influence instantly grew, giving him the leverage to contend with the other factions.
Even if some people were dissatisfied, they had no way to express it openly.
At this point, the chairman of the Japanese Olympic Preparatory Committee tapped the table and said, "If this is your only demand, then we can agree. As you said, without someone holding absolute authority, the planning of the opening and closing ceremonies will indeed suffer. Entrusting them entirely to you, Mr. Takayuki, is acceptable."
He was essentially not directly involved in this particular conflict.
His interests lay elsewhere—beyond the opening and closing ceremonies.
Compared to those minor schemes surrounding the ceremonies, the overall preparation of the Olympics was the real prize.
Takayuki was making a big fuss just to gain absolute control over the ceremonies, and the chairman felt this was something that could be conceded.
He didn't want to lose the bigger picture over a smaller issue.
If Takayuki were to become truly unhappy and expose even more of the Olympics' internal scandals, things would get ugly fast.
They couldn't silence Takayuki, nor could they possibly eliminate a godfather-level figure in the global gaming industry.
The only option left was compromise.
"But—" one person still looked unwilling to accept this and tried to argue.
Clearly, he was someone with vested interests in the opening and closing ceremonies.
The chairman shot him a sharp look, instantly shutting him up.
Then the chairman continued, "Alright. That's settled. Mr. Takayuki will lead the opening and closing ceremonies of the Summer Olympics and the Paralympics. Is that acceptable?"
"Yes. That's my only request."
With his demand satisfied, Takayuki knew when to stop.
How the Olympics themselves turned out had nothing to do with him. Even if they were a mess, it didn't matter.
As long as his ultimate goal was achieved, everything was fine.
At that, a faint smile appeared on Takayuki's face.
Being able to witness a perfect Olympic opening and closing ceremony was, in a way, a chance to make up for a regret from his previous life.
He still remembered the eye-searing Tokyo Olympic ceremonies of his past life.
Back then, he had doubted reality itself, felt the urge to wash his eyes clean, and wanted nothing more than to forget the Tokyo Olympics entirely.
Those ceremonies had been so bizarre they bordered on the underworld. He truly couldn't understand what the people in charge had been thinking.
Even grotesque ideas like floating severed-head balloons had made it onto the stage—their thinking was clearly abnormal.
The IOC members also let out sighs of relief.
They had genuinely worried that the Japanese Preparatory Committee would refuse to back down.
That would have put everyone in an impossible position.
Fortunately, those people knew when to compromise.
Deep down, even they felt that having three directors jointly handle the Olympic opening and closing ceremonies was far too frivolous.
Three directors with completely different styles were bound to clash.
What they really wanted was for the ceremonies to be free of major mistakes.
If they turned out well, that would be even better—but above all, they must not go too far.