He Ma went straight to the communication room at the entrance of the teaching building, and wanted to call the editorial office of Fang Chun, a weekly magazine, and ask Hanabang Takashi if he knew any feminist activists.
When he got to the communication room, he realized that he didn't remember the number of Fang Chun's editorial department of the weekly magazine.
As a person who traveled from the era when mobile phones became popular, he always forgot the phone book, either he forgot to write the newly obtained number in it, or he forgot to carry it with him.
When Mingming and Ma Ma were in junior high school, the phone book was still a necessity of life.
While we were scratching our heads with Ma, we saw Tamamo coming down from the second floor.
"What are you doing? It's time for class." Upon seeing Kazuma, Yuzao said so, it seemed that he didn't come out to look for him in the classroom.
Kazuma went up to him as if seeing a savior, and grabbed Yuzao's hand: "Give me the number of the editorial department of Fangchun Weekly, hurry up."
Tamamo took out the phone book from her carry-on bag, flipped through it, and showed Kazuma one of the pages.
He Ma started dialing according to the number in the book.
The communication room in the teaching building of Dongda University still uses the dial-type telephone, and it is time-consuming to dial the dial and wait for the dial to turn back.
Hema was a little impatient and almost dialed the wrong number.
Finally, Takashi Hanabou's voice came from the other side: "Weekly Fangchun editorial department broke the news hotline."
"I'm Kiryu Kazuma, I'm looking for Hanabou Takashi." Hema went straight to the point.
"That's me. What, what's going on?"
"I just wanted to ask if you know that kind of feminist activist?"
"I know, but they all hate me." Hanabang Takashi said he was scratching his head, "Because I broke the news that they squandered NGO activity funds and so on..."
He Ma couldn't help but help his forehead.
"Okay...then you tell me their contact information, I'll come..."
"You should give up. People like that are businessmen. If you want them to come forward, they have to pay."
He Ma frowned: "Are they all businessmen? There is no real action for ideals..."
"Yes, but ah, this kind of idealist usually doesn't get much resources, so the exposure is not very high. If this kind of person has a high exposure, he is not far from death. Look at Martin Luther King and the leader of the Black Panther Party."
When He Ma heard it, it seemed to make sense.
"Instead of counting on them, you might as well count on me. Let me tell you, the article I wrote is super powerful. The editor-in-chief gave the page without hesitation after reading it. It was so big that Daisuke could make a double-page spread." Where are the photos?"
He Ma beamed with joy when he heard that: "Really?"
"Really, the key point is that after we decided on the topic, we went to interview other students of Qianjiang. We didn't expect to find out the messy private life of this professor. It was so fierce."
He Ma: "What else is there?"
"Actually not, they are all chasing rumors, but who are we? We are Fang Chun, a weekly magazine, and chasing rumors is enough for us."
Why are you so proud
"Won't this affect the credibility of your revelation?"
"You don't understand this, do you? Credibility is such a thing. We report 110,000 false rumors and bad character. As long as one revelation is true, all of them will come back. This is like a big villain. After doing all the bad things, people only need to do a good thing once, and people will think that the big villain might not be so bad.
"In short, don't worry about it, just wait. Daisuke spent a whole day in the darkroom yesterday. When we came out, we went to drink. He bragged to me that the Pulitzer owed him a trophy."
He Mayi's words sound familiar to him, will he have to pay him back a golden rain when he has a chance in the future
"Then, I'm looking forward to it?" He Ma responded.
"Let's look forward to it. It will be published on Thursday, just in time for Professor Qian Jiang's first seven days. It is a great gift from Fang Chun, our weekly magazine."
He Ma nodded: "Okay, then I will wait."
"If you don't want to wait and want to find those activists to save you, then I won't stop you. I'll just read their phone numbers to you. But don't get your hopes up, ask them to come out and talk to Professor Qianjiang's friends and friends. The apprentices fought against each other, and it was basically useless without money.
"Or if you go to those kind of idealists, at most they will give you a wave of flags in some influential tabloids."
He Ma pouted: "Okay, I believe you."
"Is there a feeling of disillusionment?" Takashi Hanaba teased over there.
He Ma: "No, the moment I met you, all the things that should be disillusioned have been disillusioned."
"Hahahaha, I would be embarrassed if you praised me like that. Besides, I used to be a passionate young man who planned to become an investigative reporter to expose the darkness of this world, but now my blood has dried up."
Hanafang Takashi's voice fell, and someone in the same office joked over there: "You are now a paparazzi chasing eyeballs, even the species has changed!"
"Although I am a dog, at least I am the king of dogs."
Hanaba Takashi retorted.
He should have held down the speaking end of the receiver with his hand, and turned his head to refute to his colleagues, but He Ma's hearing was so good that he heard it.
I had unreasonable associations with horses: the king of dogs, owed a trophy...I didn't expect that all of these could be driven to UZI.
"The flower house-san, I'm going to class first."
"Okay, you go to class. By the way, if you have time, remind Ms. Fujii to avoid showing her face in front of reporters. Even if she shows up, try to cry as much as possible, and show yourself as a victim as much as possible.
"Even if you can't act like you're a victim, at least don't act like you're okay."
He Ma: "This... I will try my best."
"Or you can do something to make her sad, and then find a way to appease her after the limelight is over."
Hanaba Takashi suggested.
I thought about it with Ma, then I can only make Mikako a vegetarian, and then feasting in front of her every day, maybe it will be effective.
At this time, the class bell rang, and Tamamo reached out and patted Hema on the shoulder.
"I really have to go to class, I'll contact you later." Said He Ma.
"Okay, see you later." After Hanafaka Takashi finished speaking, he hung up the phone first.
Kazuma put down the receiver and turned to ask Yuzao for advice: "Is there any way you can make Mikako cry every day?"
"I heard that KGB has a drug that can cause depression in people."
"It's not impossible, Mikako's crime is not so far." Kazuma hurriedly interrupted Yuzao, "Isn't there a way to change to a gentler one?"
Yuzao looked at the ceiling: "Well... You have made it difficult for me. It is too difficult without killing people."
… wait a minute, did you just make a dangerous premise
Hema took a look at Yuzao, and felt that this matter could not be handed over to Yuzao, but had to be done by himself.
**
One day, when Kazuma returned home, he saw Mikako slumped on the tatami in the living room, looking like a slime that was about to melt.
"Hema! I'm so bored, do you have anything interesting to do?"
"About this, in order to pass the time for you, I brought you some good things." Hema said and put a bag of things in front of Mikako.
Mikako sat up suddenly: "Wow, such a big package, oh, look at you, it's so expensive, I feel embarrassed."
She opened the bag as she spoke: "Let me see something good... "Hamlet"? Or the books in the Dongda Library?"
"For you, Yuzao and I went to apply for a library card. These are the tragedies we selected, and they are all works that we have watched and cried."
To be precise, what He Ma chose here was a work that he had watched and cried in his previous life.
Moreover, there are some things that I feel good to cry about in my life, but I haven't found them yet.
For example, "Forrest Gump", this thing will not be released in the United States for 13 years.
Another example is "This Killer Is Not So Cold", which will also take 13 years to release.
What made Kazuma even more speechless was that he originally wanted to find some Japanese-origin tragedies, but the "Crying Out for Love in the Center of the World" and "One Liter of Tears" that came to his mind were all works two thousand years later.
After traveling with Ma, he felt the existence of a generation gap.
As a result, the works selected by Tamamo are all very down-to-earth Japanese-origin "crying" literature, and Shakespeare was selected by Ma.
Mikako pouted and looked at Kazuma with an unhappy face: "I think you are prejudiced against me. I cried super hard when I saw movies and TV dramas that made me cry. I cried super hard in "The Witness" Terrible, I used up all the tissues in the movie theater, so I had no choice but to wipe my nose with my sleeve, and when I got home, my sleeves were all stiff and dry nose."
Did you cry too much
Because it's too exaggerated, it looks like a joke, okay
In fact, at this moment, Hema couldn't tell whether Mikako was telling a joke or was serious, so he couldn't give an appropriate response, so he could only stand there in a daze.
Mikako glared at Kazuma: "Do you think I'm joking?"
He Ma: "Yes."
"Then you play the witness video, and I'll cry for you!"
He Ma: "It's not that you don't know what's going on in my house. Let's not talk about second-hand video recorders. I can't even afford fourth-hand ones, okay? I can only sing you the straw hat song of the testimony. Just cry and cry."
"It's not enough to have songs alone. I can't cry when I read novels or listen to songs, but I cry super loudly when I watch movies."
Scratching his head with Ma, he suddenly remembered that Mikako had faked crying before, so he said, "I remember when you teased me before, fake crying was fine, isn't it?"
"Oh, fake crying. I dripped sodium hyaluronate, but it worked. My eyes were cold when I dripped it in, and the tears flowed down..."
And the horse can only support the forehead.
At this time, Yuzao came out and said: "Well, I feel that Mikako belongs to the type of violent emotional outbursts. We should not let her perform, but guide her so that she really feels wronged. As long as she really thinks so , her acting skills are impeccable."
Kazuma: "That's what I said, but she is Mikako, so it's too difficult to make her feel wronged?"
Mikako: "Yeah, it's too hard to make me feel wronged. It's harder than making the world peaceful."
Yuzao: "Try it..."
He made a gesture of invitation with the horse: "Then try it."
Tamamo took a deep breath, then sat down in front of Mikako, and began to channel her emotions.
Thirty minutes later.
"Let's use sodium hyaluronate." Tamamo said to Kazuma.
Mikako: "Otherwise, when I need to perform, you starve me for one day, and I will definitely look aggrieved the next day. Add some sodium hyaluronate, perfect."
Hema and Yuzao looked at each other in blank dismay: "That's the only way..."
At this time, the phone rang at the entrance, and then Chiyoko answered the phone: "Moshi Moshi? Yes, it's Kiryu Dojo. Huh? Oh, okay, I'll tell my brother right away."
Then Chiyoko ran over and opened the door of the living room: "Brother, the reporter from the flower room called and said that the factory that their magazine has been cooperating with has caught fire, and now they are looking for another manufacturer to take over, and the publication may be two days late .”
Hema couldn't help frowning: "Is it on fire? What a coincidence?"
Yuzao: "It's not possible to set fire to the printing factory for this matter. The cost is too high. I think it should be a coincidence. A place like a printing factory is also prone to fire, so there are so many inflammable materials."
Think about it with Ma, too.
If welfare technology wants to hit itself, it is not worth using such low-return and high-risk means.
The key is to keep publishing for two days.
If it is the Internet age, two days late may make a big difference. After all, public opinion in the Internet age changes too fast, and one day late may miss the best opportunity.
In this day and age, information dissemination relies on newspapers and television, and the students at the University of Tokyo logically have their own news channels. As a result, today they have to ask Hema to ask questions if they want to know the situation.
In this era, public opinion is very slow to ferment, and it makes no difference if the counterattack is delayed by a day or two.
Because of this, Takashi Hanabang called, but he just asked his sister to convey it and then hung up, without even asking him to answer the phone.
Mikako looked at Kazuma and asked, "What's wrong? Is it because I have no hope of turning over this wave, so I can only be the proprietress of the dojo?"
"You have a good idea." He Ma looked at her angrily.
"Oh, I think it's beautiful. I've been bored all day today. I even thought of the names of the children. The eldest is a boy, and the girl is called Haruka. The second is a boy, and he is called Wulang..."
"Stop dreaming." Kazuma interrupted Mikako, "Maybe this incident will pass, and you will become a representative of new women and walk on the broad road."
Mikako: "Huh? You don't want to say that after this incident, I really became the Deputy Foreign Minister, right? Then Japan is finished."
Mikako waved her hand, everyone laughed, and the living room was filled with joyful air.
**
A few days later, it was Professor Qian Jiang's first seven days.
This morning, He Ma woke up at six o'clock as usual, and turned on the TV after washing.
In the morning newspaper reading program, I was reading an editorial about female college students scolding professors to death.
Hema looked at it and turned off the TV.
At this moment, Amao's voice came from the entrance: "It's not good!"
He Ma: "What's wrong? Don't you work in the morning to deliver newspapers? Why come back so early?"
"The big thing is bad!" Amao rushed into the living room, "I saw a long convoy coming this way at the intersection! It seems to be a funeral convoy!"
He Ma frowned—what the hell, didn't he come to my door wearing sackcloth and mourning
As soon as the words fell, he heard the sound of brakes at the door, followed by a mournful cry: "My wife! You died so badly!"