A coastline that loses a household a day
Start with the only curve that matters. The census counted 36,059 people in Omaezaki in 2000, the year the cable company was incorporated. By 2010 the figure was 34,700. By 2020 it was 31,103, and the preliminary count for October 2025 is 28,464, a fall of 8.5% in five years and 21% over the operator's lifetime. The city's own resident register, printed in a municipal booklet updated in April 2025, records 29,479 people in 12,130 households as of the end of March 2025. Divide the census decline through by household size and the town is losing, on average, a little more than one household every day.
The register adds a detail the census headline hides: 1,238 of those residents are foreign nationals, and household size has thinned to 2.43 people per roof. That second number matters commercially, because a cable operator bills premises, not people. Households decline more slowly than population while families shrink, which cushions the subscription base for a decade or so, and then stops cushioning it abruptly once single-occupant households begin to dissolve rather than divide. The operator's addressable market is therefore eroding at perhaps half the headline demographic rate today, with the full rate deferred, not avoided.
Every economic question about the company that wires those households runs against that clock. Omaezaki, at the southern tip of Shizuoka prefecture between Hamamatsu and Shizuoka city, is not an ordinary rural municipality. It hosts Chubu Electric's Hamaoka nuclear power station, five boiling-water reactors on the Pacific shore, two of them retired since January 2009 and the remaining three idle since the government asked for their shutdown in May 2011, pending seawall works and a safety review that has now outlasted a decade. The plant built the town's finances, and the town's finances built the cable network. That is not a metaphor. It is line-itemed in the city's grant ledgers, and it is why the endgame of this small operator is really a question about what a nuclear-host town does when both the reactors and the ratepayers fade at once.
This essay works through that question with the unusual paper trail the company leaves behind: twenty-three years of published balance sheets, a municipal audit from July 2025 that discloses margins and contract sums, grant tables that price the original network to the yen, and live tariff pages that show exactly who pays what today.
One company, one town, one paymaster
Identity first, because the directory entry under the name maotv is thin and deserves reconciliation. The registered entity is 株式会社御前崎ケーブルテレビ, Omaezaki Cable Television Co., Ltd., corporate number 3080401015090 in the national registry as mirrored by the economy ministry's gBizINFO service, headquartered at 7563-17 Ikeshinden, Omaezaki, Shizuoka. The company's own profile page dates incorporation to June 30, 2000 under the original name Hamaoka Cable Television, service launch to April 1, 2002 in the western Hamaoka district, extension to the eastern Omaezaki district in April 2005 after the two towns merged into Omaezaki City, the current name from June 2006, and digital multichannel service from April 2010. Capital is ¥55m. Eight shareholders are listed: the city itself, C-TECH (a Chubu Electric group engineering firm), two agricultural cooperatives, a fishery cooperative, the local commerce and industry association, Shizuoka Bank and the Shimada-Kakegawa shinkin bank. The domain trail matches: maotv.ne.jp was registered on September 8, 2000 under the network service name "Omaezaki Cable Television Co. Ltd." in JPRS records, and the marketing site maotv.jp carries the tariff pages cited throughout this piece.
The governance is franker than most third-sector arrangements. The city holds ¥16m of the capital, a 29.09% stake, and the mayor of Omaezaki serves as the company's representative director. Both facts come from the sharpest primary document in the record: a financial-assistance-body audit report filed by the city's audit commissioners on July 10, 2025, addressed, with some comedy, to Mayor Masaru Shimomura in his municipal capacity about a company he chairs in his corporate one. The auditors noticed the same thing and asked whether the dual role sits comfortably with article 142 of the Local Autonomy Act; the administration answered that it reads the law as permitting it but would "coordinate" toward separation. The same report counts the staff: four officers and fifteen employees as of April 2025, twelve of them full-time, for a company that operates a whole town's broadcast, broadband and telephone plant. The regional telecoms bureau publishes no per-operator page that could be fetched to confirm broadcast registration directly; the cable industry association's member record and the audit stand in for it, and the company also appears in the national ISP association's member directory. A commercial company-data page that once carried financials was checked and found to have been discontinued in May 2026, an attempt noted here because the gap is otherwise invisible.
So the identity is clean, but the structure is the story: a nominally private company, majority-owned by local institutions, chaired by the mayor, staffed like a rural credit union branch, and running critical infrastructure under a municipal designated-manager contract. To understand why it exists in this form, you have to go back to what paid for it.
What the reactor bought: 590 kilometres of coax
Japanese law channels money to municipalities that host power stations through a family of siting grants, and Omaezaki's city hall publishes an unusually candid accounting of where its share went. The headline number: ¥26.1bn in siting grants across 220 projects between 1975 and 2007, of which the "communications facilities" category absorbed ¥3.06bn over eleven projects. A sixty-one-page municipal booklet itemizes them, and the cable network dominates the category.
In fiscal 2000, as reactor unit 5 rose on the shoreline, the grant table records the Hamaoka Cable Television headend, a two-storey reinforced building of 729.79 square metres plus centre equipment and 53 kilometres of optical trunk line, at a project cost of ¥627.5m, of which ¥600m came from the siting grant. The following year the same programme paid for the access network itself: 5,300 subscriber terminals and 590 kilometres of coaxial cable, costed at ¥1,749.7m with a ¥1,400m grant. In fiscal 2004, the year before service reached the eastern district, a further ¥710.4m grant is booked for cable facility works under the initial-measures programme, plus ¥60m of equipment. When analogue broadcasting neared its end, the city parked grant money into a dedicated CATV digitalization fund in four deposits across fiscal 2006 and 2007 totalling roughly ¥1.53bn, alongside an ¥85m centre-modem renewal and ¥24.9m of centre refit. Sum the itemized cable entries across the several grant programmes and public money of roughly ¥4.4bn built, extended and digitized this network before the company was ten years old, an accounting in which the subscriber-funded share of construction rounds to approximately nothing.
The timing was no accident. The grant entries for the network sit in the ledger section tied to reactor unit 5, the 1,380MW advanced boiling-water reactor whose construction began in March 1999 and which entered commercial service in January 2005, both dates from the same municipal chronology; siting grants in Japan scale with construction activity, and Hamaoka's fifth reactor was the biggest single industrial project in the town's history. The same tables fund a municipal indoor pool, a library extension, school gymnasiums and hospital equipment, which is the proper context for the cable network: it was commissioned as civic furniture, not as a business, in the same spirit and from the same envelope as the swimming pool.
The economic meaning is worth stating plainly. In a town of then 11,000-odd households, no private operator would have strung 590 kilometres of coax; NTT itself was in no hurry, and the two towns wanted an information network as a civic amenity, with the audio emergency-broadcast terminals that double as the town's disaster public-address system riding on the same wires. The reactor grants made the capital cost politically free, and they also fixed the service obligation: a grant-built network exists to pass every hamlet, not the profitable ones, which is why the coverage question that haunts private rural operators simply does not arise here. Television was the product that justified the dig, which is why the company still carries TV in its name and, as the tariff section will show, why television still sits at the toll gate of every contract.
The fibre conversion that cost the operator almost nothing
By the late 2010s the coax plant was aging into obsolescence, and the answer was the standard one for Japanese cable: replace the tree-and-branch coax with fibre to the home. What is not standard is who paid.
The audit report discloses the arrangement in question-and-answer form. On April 1, 2019 the city and the company signed a burden-payment contract for the transmission-line conversion works; the total was budgeted at ¥1,552m and closed out, the company told the auditors, at about ¥1,460m. Article 5 of that contract places ownership of the rebuilt line with the company, not the city, a point the auditors probed because the council never voted on the contract itself, only on the debt-service authorization buried in the fiscal 2019 budget. The city pays the company an annual burden payment, roughly ¥146m in the fiscal year audited, and separately about ¥44m a year as designated-manager fees for running the city-owned headend assets, which the company leases back under an indefeasible-right-of-use arrangement covering the station building, power systems and studio equipment. The designated-manager award, renewed without competition, is a filed transaction price: ¥225,049,000 for the five years to March 2026.
The company's own published accounts let you watch the conversion move through the balance sheet. These are single-page notices, but there are twenty-three of them on the public-notice page, and read in sequence they are eloquent. At March 2019 total assets were ¥796m and retained earnings ¥464m. One year later, at the height of construction, total assets had jumped to ¥2,040m: cash of ¥1,246m from a freshly drawn ¥1,050m long-term loan, ¥727m of unpaid construction payables, and retained earnings crushed down to ¥191m. That ¥273m fall in retained earnings in a single year is the accounting signature of the conversion: the write-down of the grant-era coax plant and the one-off costs of switching a whole town, absorbed in one fiscal year. From 2021 the loan amortizes at a flat ¥105m a year, a schedule visible in each successive balance sheet, and the city's ¥146m annual burden payment covers, in the company's own words to the auditors, "borrowings, depreciation on the fibre build, personnel, outsourcing, repairs and rents."
By March 2026 the ledger shows what that arrangement produces. Total assets ¥1,595m, of which cash and deposits are ¥1,255m. Remaining loans ¥420m. Net assets ¥1,043m, retained earnings ¥988m against ¥55m of capital. Tangible fixed assets across the entire operation stand at just ¥189m on that notice, and the company told the auditors the fibre plant's book value alone was about ¥212m at March 2024, because most of the network was written down against city money as it depreciated. A plant that cost ¥1.46bn to build sits on the books at close to an eighth of that, while the cash pile exceeds the remaining debt three times over. Spread the conversion cost across the town's 12,130 registered households and the fibre upgrade came to roughly ¥120,000 per household passed, none of it, on the evidence of the contract structure, borne by the operator's owners.
Tariffs where television still collects the toll
The current price card is unambiguous about the business model. Broadcast service comes first: the cable TV tariff page lists a Basic Light contract (terrestrial retransmission, BS satellite, FM, the community channel and the audio emergency service) at ¥2,200 a month including tax, and a full Basic contract with CS multichannel at ¥2,695. Internet is then sold as an addition: the internet tariff page opens by defining the product as fibre internet "that can be added to" a TV base contract, at ¥5,500 a month for 100Mbps, ¥6,050 for 1Gbps and ¥7,095 for 10Gbps, all tax included, unmetered, with a mail address and security licence bundled. The company's mobile-discount page states the condition outright: for detached houses, a television contract is mandatory. List price for a household that only wants gigabit internet is therefore ¥8,250 a month, television included whether watched or not.
The softener is the set discount. Commit for three years to TV plus internet, and the same page's worked example prices Basic Light plus the 1G course at ¥6,600 a month all-in; the set-discount page makes the discount permanent after the third year and attaches early-exit penalties before it. There is even an electricity tie-in: sign the household's power contract with Chubu Electric's retail arm and the cable bill falls by ¥50 to ¥100 a month, a nice emblem of how tightly this company is stitched to the utility whose reactors built it.
Now the price pair that anchors everything, contemporaneous, same market, drawn from the operator's own pages. Since NTT West lists Omaezaki inside its 1G Flets Hikari Next footprint and, as of May 21, 2026, inside its 10G Flets Hikari Cross footprint, the operator is no longer the only fibre in town at either speed tier. And the sharpest comparison sits on the company's own site: through the docomo hikari Type C scheme, NTT docomo retails internet over Omaezaki Cable's own fibre at ¥5,720 a month for 1G and ¥6,380 for 10G, no television contract required. The same wire, two brands: ¥6,600 with a three-year lock and a TV service attached, or ¥5,720 on a two-year docomo term without one. Both are list prices; the only filed transaction price in the record is the municipal designated-manager award noted above, and it is used here for the contract side rather than the consumer side.
The archived tariff history shows how the conversion moved prices up, not down. In December 2019, mid-conversion, the page still offered the legacy coax 30Mbps course at ¥3,000 a month before tax alongside fibre 1G at ¥5,200 before tax (¥4,200 on a two-year commitment). In 2013 internet was likewise an appendage to a ¥2,100 or ¥2,572 TV contract. The cheap-and-slow tiers died with the coax: today's entry internet price is ¥5,500 for 100M, nearly double the old 30M list. For a pensioner household that only ever wanted email, the fibre era costs more; for the town's median subscriber the gigabit-for-¥6,600 bundle is defensible against national offers only because the TV service inside it is treated as worth something. Television no longer pays for the network, but it still prices the gate.
The arithmetic of a subsidised monopoly
This is the unit-economics passage, so the sourcing discipline should be explicit: every yen figure in it comes from a primary document, namely the city audit, the company's published balance sheets, the municipal grant tables and the operator's tariff pages, all linked above; where a number is derived rather than documented, it is called inference.
Documented inputs first. The audit states that in the company's 24th fiscal period, the year to March 2024, the operating margin on sales was 43% and the net margin 27%, and that city receipts booked as contracted revenue were about ¥190m (¥146m burden payment plus ¥44m designated-manager fee). The balance-sheet series gives retained earnings of ¥470.7m at March 2023 and ¥631.4m at March 2024, so the year's net profit was ¥160.7m assuming no dividend, a safe assumption for a third-sector company whose equity account shows only carried-forward earnings. The following two years added ¥186.5m and ¥169.9m respectively, per the March 2025 and March 2026 notices. The staircase runs further back and holds its slope: ¥351.9m of retained earnings at March 2022 and ¥470.7m at March 2023, which is to say that in the first four post-conversion years the company rebuilt, and then exceeded, the entire equity cushion the conversion write-down had consumed.
Two triangulations of revenue follow, and they should be read as inference built on those documents. Method one divides audited profit by audited margin: ¥160.7m of net profit at a 27% net margin implies revenue of about ¥595m for the year to March 2024, and a 43% operating margin then implies roughly ¥256m of operating profit. Method two builds the same total from the demand side: ¥190m of documented city receipts is 32% of that implied revenue, leaving about ¥405m to come from subscribers at the tariffs on the public price card. At a blended ¥2,450 a month across TV tiers and roughly ¥4,600 a month of incremental internet revenue net of set discounts, ¥405m a year is consistent with somewhere near 7,000 television relationships and 3,300 broadband additions, that is, take-up around 55 to 60% of the town's 12,130 registered households for broadcast and 25 to 30% for broadband. The company publishes no subscriber count, so those take rates are single-sourced inference from tariffs and implied revenue and should be treated as a band, not a census; their plausibility rests on the 5,300 terminals the grant table records for the western district alone in 2001 and on the mandatory TV attach, and the two methods reconcile within the rounding.
The cost side explains the margins. Fifteen staff, most facility costs on the city's side of the designated-manager line (the audit notes that "some facility expenses do not arise" for the company), technical operations outsourced to C-TECH, content and platform functions bought in from national wholesalers, and a network whose depreciation is substantially funded by the city's burden payments. A rough check: ¥595m of revenue against ¥339m of implied operating costs must cover payroll (fifteen people, generously ¥120m with overheads), the C-TECH contract, programming fees, upstream transit and the un-reimbursed slice of depreciation. Nothing in that stack strains credulity, which is itself the point: the auditors, comparing the company with "ordinary private enterprises," concluded the third-sector model's benefits are being fully realized and pointedly asked the administration to start studying privatization.
Per-household economics make the depopulation exposure concrete. Revenue of ¥595m over 12,130 households is ¥49,000 per registered household per year, whether or not that household subscribes; the city's ¥190m contribution alone is ¥15,700 per household per year, about ¥1,300 a month of public money per roof, paid so that the wires stay lit and the emergency speakers keep working. Each census-pace year removes roughly 130 households; at the blended subscriber yields above, that is around ¥4m to ¥5m of annual subscription revenue evaporating each year before any competitive loss, a slow leak of just under 1% of revenue annually. Depopulation does not kill this company on any near horizon. It simply guarantees that every other number in this section is at its all-time high right now.
Rented parts: whose network is it really?
For a fifteen-person company, the operational footprint is remarkably complete on paper: its own autonomous system and address space, its own headend, its own brand. Look closer and nearly every layer is somebody else's product, which is both sensible and a dependency map worth writing down.
Addressing and routing are genuinely its own. The Asia-Pacific numbers registry records 103.119.88.0/22 registered to Omaezaki Cable Television at the Ikeshinden address in July 2018, exactly when the fibre build began, and the routing table shows the block originated by AS63782, registered to the company, visible at essentially all route-collector peers, with transit through AS2519, the Vectant backbone of Arteria Networks. The routing archives add a date the company never announced: the block entered the global table in August 2018 under the number of TOKAI Communications, the Shizuoka regional carrier, and switched to the company's own origination in February 2020, which is about as close as the outside world gets to a commissioning certificate for the rebuilt network. An attempt to pull the same records through the Japanese registry's own query gateway timed out repeatedly, an outcome noted here because the regional registry and the routing view have to carry the point alone. Secondary DNS for the service domain also sits on Vectant's servers, so the town's internet reaches the world through one wholesale relationship, a concentration the company's own maintenance log acknowledges in the pair of "upstream circuit maintenance" notices posted in February 2024.
Everything above the network layer is federated from the national cable ecosystem. Customer mail is hosted on the ZAQ platform of J:COM, Japan's largest cable group, as the MX records and the company's entry in ZAQ's support knowledge base both show, and the bundled security software is "McAfee for ZAQ." The digital broadcast lineup is delivered via the JC-HITS satellite headend service of Japan Cablecast, and fixed telephony is KDDI's cable-plus product, per the company's service pages and the encyclopedia record of the operation; technical operation of the plant itself is supported by shareholder C-TECH of the Chubu Electric group. None of these suppliers publishes a price for what it charges a 10,000-line operator, and no archived rate card for them could be located, so the cost side of these relationships is opaque from outside; what can be said is that each is the industry-standard national wholesaler for its function, that ZAQ, JC-HITS and KDDI each serve dozens of similar operators, and that the switching cost of any one of them would be measured in staff-years the company does not have. Even standby power is municipal: when the headend's emergency generator was renewed in fiscal 2023, the auditors reconciled a ¥13.1m machine against a ¥29.2m installed cost line in the city's own settlement papers, because the generator, like the building around it, sits on the city's books rather than the company's. The deepest dependency is the oldest one: the city, which owns the studio the company broadcasts from, pays a third of its revenue, and appoints its president from the mayor's office.
Competitors on its own wires
The competitive position is best described as a fortified retreat. On pure price, the operator no longer wins: docomo's Type C offer on the company's own fibre undercuts the company's own gigabit product by ¥330 a month even before the TV attach is counted, and NTT West's wholesale footprint now brings every national light-fibre brand to Omaezaki at 1G and, since May 2026, 10G. Mobile substitution adds a floor of pressure from home-router products on carrier 5G networks, which need no installation visit at all, an attractive property in a town of aging households.
What the company sells against that is bundle gravity and civic lock-in. The TV base contract carries the community channel, the council broadcasts and, crucially, the audio emergency terminal that the municipality treats as disaster infrastructure; the au and UQ mobile discounts, worth up to ¥1,100 a month per handset for as many as ten lines on one internet contract under the published conditions, and the docomo arrangement mean that whichever national mobile brand a household prefers, there is a configuration that keeps the wire itself in company hands. That is the strategically interesting fact of the Type C listing: rather than lose a docomo family to an NTT line, the company hosts its competitor's brand on its own plant and takes the wholesale economics, unpublished but plainly preferred to churn. Switching costs run through set-discount penalty clauses inside three-year terms, through the bother of returning rented terminals, and through the emergency-broadcast box on the kitchen wall, which departing households in practice give up.
The moat, in other words, is not price or speed. It is that the operator is quasi-governmental, and its true customer, the one whose payments carry the margins, cannot churn without a council vote.
Signals from outside the filings
The unofficial record is thin, which is itself information about a company this small, but what exists points consistently in one direction: a well-run network with no growth story. Crowd-sourced speed tests aggregated by a national measurement site show the fibre service averaging 1,188Mbps down and 1,192Mbps up across 48 tests in the past three months with sub-10ms latency, numbers that would flatter a metropolitan operator and that suggest an uncongested access network with 10G users pulling up the mean; the same site's legacy coax listing has dwindled to a single recent test at 11.5Mbps, the sound of a technology going quiet. The company's own incident log shows two service-degradation events and one outage-and-recovery notice across two and a half years, the rest scheduled maintenance, a record consistent with the speed data though naturally self-reported. If sustained congestion existed, a town this connected would surface it in the measurement data; it does not.
The labour signals say "steady state" equally clearly. The company's recruitment page currently lists no open positions, and the third-party hiring subdomain it once used no longer resolves at all, while employment-review sites hold only fragmentary entries. Fifteen staff, no hiring, no attrition chatter: a book of business being tended, not built. What would settle the picture either way is subscriber disclosure, a number the company has never published; a single line in the next municipal audit, or a service-contract count in the council's designated-manager renewal papers, would convert this essay's take-rate band from inference to fact, and diligence questions for any acquirer would start exactly there. Nothing in forums, reviews or the outage record contradicts the filings, and in a market where the loudest signal is usually complaint, silence from 12,000 households is a modestly bullish datum.
The cash pile and the clock
Here is the situation the numbers leave us with in mid-2026. A company with roughly ¥600m of implied revenue, audited margins in the twenties net, ¥1,255m of cash against ¥420m of debt, zero listed vacancies and a network refreshed to 10G-capable fibre, all inside a town whose population fell 8.5% in the last five census years. Add the fiscal weather around it. When the reactors stopped in 2011, Nikkei reported the city cutting that year's siting-grant budget from ¥980m to ¥140m within weeks; the same report put nuclear grants and reactor property tax at roughly two-fifths of the city's general-account revenue, a ratio that now sits behind the paper's subscription wall and is carried here as a single-sourced figure. The intervening years of idle reactors have ground that base down, and the audit itself describes the city's finances as "very severe" while instructing the administration to re-examine the appropriateness of the money it sends the company. This February, presenting the fiscal 2026 budget, the mayor told the local press that counting on a restart is too risky to build plans around, after fresh irregularities disclosed at the plant pushed the review timetable further out.
The pieces of the endgame are therefore all on the table. The five-year designated-manager term ran to March 31, 2026, so a renewal on some terms is now in force but its price is not yet in the public record; the ¥105m-a-year loan amortization runs to about 2030 on the visible schedule, and the city's burden payments, structured against the 2019 conversion contract, taper on a similar horizon, an inference from the payment pace rather than a published sunset date. When those flows end, the company's cost of ownership of its own network finally becomes real, at precisely the moment its subscriber base will be some 10 to 15% smaller than today on census trend alone.
Which is why the auditors' quiet sentence about "studying the future shape of the cable business with privatization in view" is the most consequential line in the whole record. There is an obvious buyer universe: the national cable consolidators, the regional carrier that once announced this network's routes, or the platform groups that already run its mail, its channels and its phones. And there is an obvious valuation tension. On the audited figures a buyer would be acquiring ¥160m-plus of annual net profit and ¥835m of net cash, but a third of the revenue is one municipal counterparty whose own income shrinks with each idle reactor year, and the remainder rides a tariff card whose TV toll is exactly what a private owner would be tempted to cut, and exactly what the town's disaster-broadcast obligations make hard to cut. The terminal value of this company is not a multiple of its earnings; it is a negotiation over which parts of those earnings are really a utility fee the city was paying itself.
The judgement, then. As an operating business, Omaezaki Cable Television is in the best condition of its life: debt melting, cash compounding at roughly ¥170m a year, a fibre plant a decade younger than its market. As an investment thesis, it is a wasting annuity on a municipal contract plus a slowly leaking subscription book, and its owners know it, because their own auditors wrote it down. The cable-to-broadband conversion here did not save a business model; it converted a nuclear grant into a balance sheet, and the balance sheet now waits for the town to decide what it is for.
What would move this judgement
A handful of documentable facts would rewrite the analysis, and each has a specific place it would surface. A restart decision for Hamaoka unit 3 or 4, in either direction, would reprice the city's finances and with them the durability of the ¥190m annual flow; the regulator's licensing docket and the city budget are where that lands first. The terms of the designated-manager renewal from April 2026, once published in council papers, will either confirm the ¥45m-a-year baseline or reveal the squeeze the auditors requested; a competitive tender rather than sole-source renewal would be a regime change. Any first disclosure of subscriber counts, in an audit annex or a tender specification, would replace this essay's central inference and could move the implied take rates, and therefore the private-market value, materially in either direction. A privatization process, signalled by a valuation study line in the city budget or an advisory mandate, would convert the terminal-value discussion from hypothesis to transaction, and the identity of the counterparty would tell us whether the buyer is paying for cash flows or for the last wired distribution channel into 12,000 households. On the demand side, the 2030 census and the city's monthly register will show whether the 2020-2025 decline of 8.5% was a plateau or an acceleration; anything past 10% per five years brings the revenue leak toward 1.5% annually and starts to bite within a private owner's payback window. And a visible entry by NTT-family retailers marketing the new 10G footprint aggressively in Omaezaki, trackable through the wholesale area lists and local promotion, would test whether the TV toll can survive contact with an untied gigabit at ¥5,720.
Evidence register
The company's corporate profile carries identity, history, capital and shareholders; the registry entry is confirmed through gBizINFO. The July 2025 municipal audit supplies the 29.09% city stake, staffing, the 2019 conversion contract at ¥1,552m budgeted and about ¥1,460m final, the ¥146m and ¥44m annual city payments, the 43%/27% margins, the designated-manager award of ¥225,049,000 over five years and the privatization recommendation. The city's nuclear-grant booklet prices the original network: ¥600m grant for the headend and 53km trunk in fiscal 2000, ¥1,400m for 5,300 terminals and 590km of coax in 2001, ¥710m for the 2004 expansion and about ¥1.53bn of digitalization funds, and records 29,479 residents in 12,130 households at March 2025; the city grant page totals siting grants at ¥26.1bn to 2007. Census populations from 2000 through the 2025 preliminary count are tabulated at citypopulation.de from Statistics Bureau data. The company's public-notice archive holds the balance sheets used for the equity, cash and debt series, notably the March 2020, March 2024, March 2025 and March 2026 notices. Current tariffs are on the TV and internet price pages, the bundle terms on the set-discount, mobile-discount and electricity-bundle pages, and the competing on-net offer on the docomo Type C page; archived tariff states for 2013 and 2019 document the conversion-era price ladder. NTT West's area lists place Omaezaki in the 1G and 10G wholesale footprints. Network-layer facts rest on the Asia-Pacific registry record and route-collector views; platform dependencies on the ZAQ support record and the encyclopedia entry. Fiscal context comes from Nikkei's 2011 accounting of grant dependence, Tokyo Shimbun's shutdown retrospective and Chunichi Shimbun's report on the fiscal 2026 budget. Unofficial signals draw on crowd speed measurements, the company's incident log and its vacancies page, with the industry association member record and ISP directory listing corroborating scope.