Chapter 278: Shinji—What's It Like to Court Death on a Plane?
The plane quickly climbed into the sky. Once the flight leveled out into smooth cruising, Shinji called over a flight attendant and asked for a drink.
"Tsk tsk."
As the flight attendant wheeled the cart away, Shinji watched her retreating figure with undisguised appreciation, clicking his tongue at the view of her shapely hips.
"Ohhh, what a glorious trip this could've been—if not for a certain third wheel," he sighed dramatically.
From the row behind, Sakura's expression darkened.
"Brother dearest, you're nearly twenty. That old routine of yours doesn't work anymore! Careful or you'll get slapped with a harassment charge!"
"What 'old routine'?" Shinji feigned innocence.
Udagawa Nao, seated across from Shinji, perked up with interest. She was far more familiar with Shinji the producer than Shinji the person, so this kind of gossip was brand-new territory.
In a lowered voice, careful not to let the cabin crew hear, Sakura explained, "Every time he's on a flight with a pretty flight attendant, he pretends it's his first time flying."
Nao blinked. "...And?"
"And then," Sakura said through gritted teeth, "he'll grab her hand and say things like, 'Onee-san, I'm so scared~' or 'Please hold my hand~'"
"..."
Udagawa Nao had once believed Shinji's shamelessness was confined to the business world. Now, she understood the true meaning of the phrase: "Trash men diversify their talents."
Fortunately, the cabin crew arrived just in time with drinks for her and Sakura. Otherwise, Nao might've died of secondhand embarrassment right there.
Taking a sip of her juice, Nao glanced at Shinji with a deadpan expression.
"Shinji, it's honestly a miracle you've never been arrested."
But Shinji, ever the shameless rogue, just grinned and said cheerfully, "I'm telling you, this trick works like a charm. Next time you fly with my uncle, give it a shot."
"Go to hell."
Now that she was used to his antics, Nao didn't hold back. She flipped him the internationally recognized hand gesture of goodwill.
Shinji, still grinning, asked, "By the way, Nao-neesan, have you decided where you and Kariya-ojisan are gonna go sightseeing? China has plenty of places to check out. Got an itinerary?"
Nao shook her head lightly. "Not yet. I'm not sure how good Kariya's Chinese is, so I haven't made any concrete plans. I might need a translator."
"A translator, huh... Yeah, having a stranger tag along would definitely kill the mood," Shinji said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But if we all traveled together, that wouldn't be a problem. I could be your translator!"
"You speak Chinese?"
Nao's tone was skeptical.
Not that she doubted Shinji's credentials—after all, his career success in film and business was more than convincing—but she had heard him speak English plenty of times. Chinese? Not once.
"Of course! I studied the language, got to know the culture, and that's how I realized the potential of their market. That's why I laid the foundation here early on."
That explanation sounded convincing—especially since Shinji had been meticulously investing in China's entertainment scene for years. It didn't sound like he was bluffing.
In the row behind, Sakura snorted quietly.
She knew exactly how good Shinji's Chinese was—fluent, on paper. He could understand and speak it just fine.
But….
There was one thing that had always bothered her.
Back when he was showing off his skills, Sakura had challenged him to recite a few Tang poems. He managed four or five before getting hopelessly tongue-tied.
Was that really how a seasoned sinophile should perform?
So in Sakura's mind, Shinji's Chinese remained stuck in a quantum state—somewhere between native fluency and total bluff. Schrödinger's Chinese.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The flight from Japan to Shanghai wasn't long—just about two and a half hours.
Too short to justify sleeping. Plane naps were uncomfortable anyway, and by the time you finally managed to drift off, you'd already be landing.
So Shinji didn't bother trying. Instead, he pulled out his phone—already set to airplane mode—and began flipping through his work notes.
First up were updates from Tsuburaya Productions.
Ever since Magical Illya officially began airing, Shinji, as producer, hadn't had much to do with the project anymore. Sure, the show hadn't finished filming—it was still in that dreaded "film-as-you-air" state—but with Shirou overseeing things on set, and Tsuburaya unable to pull any funny business, there was nothing to worry about.
The good news?
All three episodes aired so far had pulled in excellent ratings.
Episode 1 had a strong average viewership of 23.7%.
Episode 2 held steady with 21.7%.
And most importantly, Episode 3—airing during the dreaded Saturday morning slot—still managed a solid 11.4%.
That was right in line with Shinji's expectations. He had high hopes for Magical Illya's performance going forward.
Story-wise, the show had already reached the point where Illya and the others had retrieved the Rider card and were now stuck trying to deal with Caster. The plot was properly unfolding, getting into its real rhythm.
Shinji's plan was to adapt the first and second seasons of the manga—ending right after the climactic battle with Gil.
In his opinion, the manga's second arc was its peak—packed with solid plot progression, intense battles, hilarious comedy, and flashy gimmicks.
By contrast, the third season was a little too… unhinged. Hiroyama clearly lost control of the pacing and ended up pulling a time travel plot out of nowhere just to tie it all together.
Still, even at its worst, the manga's third season was leagues better than the anime's second season.
After all, the anime had split what should've been a tight, single-season arc into two dragged-out seasons. The pacing was all over the place, the story felt like a chopped salad, and watching it was just plain exhausting.
"Eh… between Oonuma and the production studio, someone's gotta take the fall," Shinji muttered with a bitter little smile as he looked at his phone.
"Excuse me, sir."
A clear, melodious voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Please refrain from using your mobile phone on the aircraft."
Shinji turned his head to see a stunningly beautiful flight attendant watching him sternly.
"It's fine. It's on airplane mode," he said, casually holding up his phone to show the little airplane icon glowing on the screen.
But the flight attendant repeated, expression unchanged, "Please do not use mobile phones during flight."
"Tch… forgot about that."
Shinji scratched his head with an awkward shrug.
Right—before 2015, airlines in China didn't allow any phone use, even in airplane mode.
Then again, he wasn't sure if that date was accurate. Back in his old life, Shinji hadn't flown often, and he'd also heard that the policies varied from one airline to another.
He briefly considered using a subtle suggestion spell to make the problem go away—but as he took a closer look at the flight attendant's face, he froze.
She looked very familiar.
A flicker of recognition sparked in his mind.
He hesitated. Ultimately, Shinji chose not to push his luck with this particular onee-san and obediently put his phone away.
Maybe he'd been staring a bit too blatantly, because the flight attendant narrowed her eyes at him for several seconds before finally turning and walking away.
Shinji whistled, half in awe, half in jest.
"Y'know… I've always had a dream."
"About what?" a voice asked from behind him.
Sakura raised an eyebrow. She had a bad feeling. That tone from her brother could only mean one thing—he was up to something.
"What do you think would happen," Shinji mused aloud, "if I turned off airplane mode right now? Would the flight attendant pin me to the floor like a terrorist?"
"Relax," Sakura replied darkly. "Even if the flight crew doesn't do it, I will. Keep acting up and I'll make sure you spend your entire trip in a wheelchair."
"It was just a little joke, jeez~"
Shinji wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with a sheepish grin.
"Is that the kind of thing you think is okay to joke about?!" Sakura snapped.
Shinji wisely chose to shut up, shrinking back into his seat with an awkward laugh and rubbing the bridge of his nose.
After Sakura's scolding, he quieted down significantly.
But that didn't mean he was bored.
Nope—he had a new mission now: figuring out who the flight attendant was.
She looked really familiar.
The thing about bringing 2D characters into the 3D world was that, without unique hair colors, eye colors, or hairstyles, they could be hard to recognize. And right now, the flight attendant's hairstyle didn't match what Shinji remembered at all.
So he kept watching her, comparing every detail to the mental image in his head.
This, of course, led to several awkward moments where their eyes met. Over. And over.
"Hmph~"
Eventually, the flight attendant gave a cold huff, clearly thinking she'd attracted the attention of a particularly pervy passenger.
Shinji, unfazed, gave her a playful wink.
She rewarded him with a flawless display of complete and utter indifference.
"I think it's time you put your eyeballs back in their sockets and fastened your seatbelt,"
Udagawa Nao said coolly from across the aisle.
"We landing soon?" Shinji turned around.
"Yeah. The captain already made the announcement."
"Got it."
Shinji sat up and adjusted his seatbelt. He'd confirmed the woman's identity. No need to keep ogling her.
After circling twice over the airport, the plane made a smooth landing.
As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, Shinji stood—not to grab his luggage, but to approach her.
"Sir? Do you need something?" the flight attendant asked warily.
Shinji just smiled and pulled a business card from his jacket pocket.
"If you ever get tired of being a flight attendant, give the number on this card a call."
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked away.
"…Weirdo."
The flight attendant rolled her eyes and almost ripped the card in half on the spot—until her eyes caught something on the back.
A magical seal.
"…?"
She stared at it for a moment, then quickly and discreetly slipped the card into her uniform before her coworkers noticed.
"That guy…"
She watched Shinji walk away with his carry-on, a slight frown forming on her otherwise composed face.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
On the other side of the gate, Shinji and his group were escorted through immigration by staff members.
Thankfully, since they were officially invited guests of the film festival, the whole process went incredibly smoothly.
Once all the procedures were done, Shinji, Sakura, and Udagawa Nao dragged their luggage out of the arrival terminal—
—Only to be greeted by a giant banner right at the exit:
"A Warm Welcome to World-Renowned Director Shinji Matou—Thank You for Attending the Shanghai International Film Festival!"
Beneath the banner was a group of eager faces, all watching intently, as though Shinji were royalty. If it hadn't been for the airport's strict policies, he was sure someone would've brought a souna band to play him in.
"This is a bit… much."
Shinji's smile twitched, caught somewhere between embarrassment and amusement.
<+>
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