A reflective account of the author’s emergence on the internet with “The Turntable of Civilization” and its perceived impact.
It recounts how the writings reached corporations, universities, government institutions, and political circles, and reflects on the author’s personal journey.
The chapter describes the decision to break a long silence and enter the global arena through the internet from Osaka.

There is no way that my Turntable of Civilization did not change Japan and the world.
2018-01-07.
The following is a continuation of the previous chapter.
After yesterday’s results, I reread the Turntable of Civilization from when I first appeared.
I strongly reaffirmed, even to myself, how remarkable my Turntable of Civilization was.
At that time, I began publishing simultaneously on three sites: goo, Ameba, and FC2.
Needless to say, it was because I wanted to reach as many people as possible.
In those days, FC2 allowed me to see readers’ affiliations.
Not only almost all of Japan’s globally renowned major corporations, all national and public universities, and famous private universities such as Waseda, Keio, and the Kansai private university groups, but also nearly all ministries in Kasumigaseki and even members of the House of Representatives were reading it daily.
I once again recognized that this was only natural.
All 440 of my classmates are outstanding individuals representing Japan, and among them, the upper half now stand at the heads of the organizations mentioned above.
I belonged to the humanities, but amid the family misfortunes that were trials given to me by God,
as one endowed with abilities by God, I lived a completely different life from theirs, as my readers know.
Even so, they knew who I was, and in the graduation anthology it was written:
“There are three K’s… this K will someday leave a major mark on Japan’s literary world.”
That was their evaluation of me.
I, who had been silent for far too long—so absent that even my whereabouts were unknown to them—suddenly broke that silence and appeared on the internet, the greatest library in human history, carrying with me the Turntable of Civilization.
The trigger was Osaka, the stage I chose for my life.
In Japan there are only two locations that can be called supreme prime real estate: Ginza and Umeda.
Enraged beyond measure by the unbelievable developments in Umeda’s North Yard,
I, an entirely unknown figure as a commentator, resolved that I had no choice but to appear on the internet, and so I did.
There was no way it would not reach them.
Some of my classmates must have thought, “So he has finally appeared.”
There is no way that my Turntable of Civilization did not change Japan and the world.