Ryan Chandler was in a good mood at this moment, and couldn’t help but smile at the scene before him—a long white ribbon, sailor collar, a deep blue long skirt reaching down to mid-calf, thick bubble socks underneath, and black leather shoes, with almost no skin showing. Very conservative.

What a pity, in 1994 you couldn’t see short-skirted JKs. It seemed Japanese school uniforms also went through cycles of change. There was a retro trend in the late 1980s, when long skirts were considered beautiful for girls, and everyone lengthened their skirts until they nearly touched the tops of their feet. Then the trend shifted again, with skirts getting shorter year by year. It probably wasn’t until the 2000s that things completely reversed, and short skirts became the new standard of beauty. Girls started desperately shortening their skirts to wear over-the-knee socks, and it wasn’t complete without creating that “absolute territory.”

If you wanted to see short-skirted JKs, you’d have to wait at least another seven or eight years. Is it really that every era has its own aesthetic?

This is something to keep in mind in the future—you can’t always look at 1994 or 1995 through the lens of 2019. Even though it’s only a difference of a couple decades, doing so could cause big problems...

If a 2019 show were broadcast in 1995 without proper adaptation, even a blockbuster could flop. Fortunately, the first show chosen was “The World’s Strange Tales,” which originally appeared in the 1990s.

Ryan Chandler was staring at those three long-skirted high school girls, lost in thought, when suddenly a sharp child’s voice rang out, “Someone help! Keith fell into the river! Help! Help, someone come quick!”

The three high school girls in front of him froze mid-play, then immediately dashed toward a small alley. Ryan Chandler couldn’t help but follow—everyone has a sense of compassion. When you suddenly hear someone calling for help, especially a child, it’s hard to ignore. That’s the pure kindness deep in people’s hearts, even the most ruthless criminals have it.

The Tokyo area has many river mouths, and more than a dozen artificial canals have been built, creating a dense waterway network. Not far from this commercial street, there was a river—apparently a tributary of the Meguro River. The river wasn’t wide, but the current was swift. If a child fell in, it was still very dangerous.

Ryan Chandler followed the three high school girls through the short alley and onto another small road, where he immediately saw a stony riverbank and a river.

It was early morning, and the path by the shallows wasn’t a main road, so there were almost no pedestrians. Only two elderly women stood anxiously on the bank, while a little boy, clutching two schoolbags, cried and tried to explain, “Keith said he could jump onto the biggest rock...”

As Ryan Chandler ran, he observed the situation and saw several large and small rocks protruding from the river. That rascal Keith probably wanted to hop across the smaller rocks to the biggest one and then back, to show off his bravery or something—who knows what goes through a kid’s mind. Anyway, he was now clinging to the edge of a rock, half-submerged, the current threatening to pull him away at any moment. His face was pale with terror, and he was too scared even to cry.

The three high school girls were ahead of him, about to cross the road and rush onto the bank. One of them, with shoulder-length hair, tossed her schoolbag to a friend as she ran, shouting, “Sarah, Grace, I’m going to save him!”

Ryan Chandler breathed a slight sigh of relief and stopped taking off his suit jacket—he was from the north and not a strong swimmer, so he wasn’t confident about rescuing someone from the water. If the high school girl hadn’t volunteered, he would have had to grit his teeth and jump in himself.

But just then, a sharp gust of wind sounded, and a round-faced girl in work clothes, reeking of fish and with her hair in a ponytail, sped past him on a bicycle like a bolt of lightning, overtaking the three high school girls, crashing through the bushes, and slipping on the bank. She didn’t care about her bike, scrambled up, took a running leap, and dove into the river with lightning speed, barely making a splash.

By the time she surfaced again, she had already crossed half the river, grabbed the rascal from behind in a headlock, and shouted, “Don’t move! I’ll drag you to shore! Hey, I said don’t move! I’m the daughter of the sea, and I swear by the name of the Dragon God, I absolutely won’t let you drown!”

The three high school girls had reached the water’s edge by now, cheering the “daughter of the sea” on. Ryan Chandler slowed his pace and stopped on the bank, feeling there was nothing more for him to do. He picked up the fallen bicycle, noticed the chain had come off, squatted down to fix it, and spun the pedals to set it right—the bike’s rear seat was tied with two large, scaled and beheaded fish. That round-faced, ponytailed girl seemed to be a delivery worker.

No wonder she smelled so strongly of fish, but she was a good person.

By now, more and more people had arrived, including a patrolling police officer on a bicycle. The bank was in chaos. The rascal was sure to get a good scolding after being pulled out. Ryan Chandler watched for a while, then turned and headed back toward the station.

Well, at least nothing serious happened. I really can’t understand how kids think.

You’re on your way to school—why jump into a river halfway there?

Such troublemakers really need a beating, until they learn their lesson!

...

Ryan Chandler didn’t pay much attention to this little incident on the way. He arrived at Tokyo Broadcasting TEB at 8:12, waiting for Ian Murphy not far from the entrance, and took the opportunity to have a good look at the place where he would soon be working.