Jing Yu sat in thought, reading over the latest market research on 'Fate/Zero'.
As he expected, the buzz surrounding this fantasy action series far surpassed any of his past works.
Among the fanbase, cosplay of Artoria and Gilgamesh had already started to pop up.
It felt a little weird to Jing Yu. This was a live-action drama, yet people were still cosplaying characters from it—so different from the kind of cosplay he remembered.
But then he thought back to his past life on Douyin, where drama-version cosplayers would parade around markets with chicken in one hand and sword in the other, acting out roles like Bu Jingyun or Nie Feng herding sheep. So maybe it wasn't that strange after all.
Still, this was a trend Jing Yu was happy to see.
Shows like 'Kimi ni Todoke' had great ratings and trended heavily while airing, but after a while, people forgot about them. Their topical relevance didn't last.
This was where genre mattered in commercial value.
Naruto had been finished for years, but its creator, Masashi Kishimoto, was still among the top earners in Japan's manga industry.
Dragon Ball, which ended over 20 years ago, ranked second.
And Yu-Gi-Oh! creator Kazuki Takahashi didn't even have to lift a finger anymore—his royalties alone brought him 600 million a year.
At its peak, 'Kimi ni Todoke' was as popular as any of those series, but the long-term commercial value wasn't even close.
The Fate franchise, on the other hand, was a textbook case.
Back in his previous life, in Japan, its commercial power needed no introduction. In fact, Jing Yu remembered that the streaming platform B-Station went public largely thanks to 'Fate/Grand Order'. A single mobile game was responsible for half the platform's revenue.
No matter how many 'Kimi ni Todoke'-style hits he created, he couldn't replicate that kind of financial success.
That's why Jing Yu put so much effort into adapting the Fate series.
If he had to rank them purely by storytelling quality, Fate might not be more classic than 'Hikaru no Go' or 'Initial D'—but in terms of commercial viability, it was on a whole different level.
"Hmm… feels like the promotion still isn't strong enough," Jing Yu said after reviewing the report, turning to Cheng Lie.
"Let's increase the advertising budget a bit."
"Understood. It's just that 'Fate/Zero' is already the highest-rated show of the season—both on TV and online. More promo might not change much," Cheng Lie cautioned.
"It's not just about the numbers. Even if some people don't watch the drama because of the ads, that doesn't mean the campaign was useless. We've got a series of games coming—they're going to see it eventually," Jing Yu replied with a grin.
"By the way, how's the game company acquisition going?"
"We've reached agreements with four small and one mid-sized game studio in Modo city. None of them has debt, and their staff are all experienced. Once the handover is done, they can immediately start development based on our requirements," Cheng Lie said, clearly excited.
A TV drama is being adapted into a game.
That was a model almost unheard of in the Great Zhou.
But this was Jing Yu.
Having worked with him for years, Cheng Lie had developed a kind of inexplicable confidence in the man.
"Once we finalize the purchases, we'll integrate the five studios into a single entity. That should meet our development needs."
Jing Yu nodded.
In this era—when the internet was still just budding—the game industry in the Great Zhou was in its infancy. Only a few companies were truly profitable. Tons of small studios were hanging by a thread, their future hinging on a single title. Their prices were relatively cheap.
What is the total cost to acquire those five companies? Just over 200 million.
Basically, he was buying their staff, workflows, and equipment. In truth, even that price was on the high side.
But with royalties from multiple past projects starting to roll in, Jing Yu had become a low-key tycoon.
For him, this level of investment was nothing.
"You handle the schedule. I don't want to drag things out. If they won't negotiate on the price, then fine. Let's not waste time."
"Time's worth far more than a few saved bucks."
With 'Fate/Zero' currently airing and poised to remain hot for a while, Jing Yu needed to get the first Fate game out before the hype faded.
Thankfully, he wasn't planning a massive project.
Large-scale games were an option down the line, but for now, he would focus on small to mid-sized titles—something that could be completed in a few months with enough funding and manpower.
The reason some games seemed mediocre yet still took over a year to make was usually money. Studios lacked capital, couldn't make payroll, and had to waste time seeking new backers mid-development.
Jing Yu wouldn't be running into that problem.
He had the funds. And if the merged studios weren't enough? He'd just hire more.
If all went smoothly, there'd be more projects down the line—'Fate/stay night', FGO… Jing Yu might not adapt those into TV dramas, but he'd definitely turn them into games.
As for the possibility of the franchise flopping?
With how 'Fate/Zero' was performing, that chance was practically zero.
Cheng Lie walked out of the office with a strange feeling.
A screenwriter who played instruments, composed music, knew Go, was a master-level driver, and also a god-tier actor and scriptwriter...
And now, this same man was stepping into the gaming industry.
It felt like too big a leap.
But if there was one lesson Cheng Lie had learned from working with Jing Yu all these years, it was this:
Never doubt Jing Yu's plans for his work.
No one understood the value of Jing Yu's stories better than Jing Yu himself.
Over the next few days, Jing Yu threw himself into the acquisition process.
Money in hand, it was a relatively smooth endeavor. He didn't know the legal and technical ins and outs—but he could hire people who did.
He brought in a top-tier law firm and a professional acquisition firm to handle negotiations.
He also retained a third-party auditing firm to oversee everything, just to avoid any sketchy business.
He had no intention of stumbling into any weird legal nightmares.
Meanwhile, he also started thinking about what his next project would be after 'Fate/Zero'.
He had broken free from the restrictions of traditional TV networks—he was the boss now.
If all he wanted was to be a rich slacker, he had already made it.
From now on, he could literally do nothing—just live off his savings and collect royalties from his past works. That income alone would be enough to live in luxury for the rest of his life.
But that wasn't who he was.
It wasn't just about the hundred-plus employees relying on him. He had greater ambitions.
The Great Zhou was a nation of billions. Its cultural output couldn't remain stagnant forever.
Since he arrived in this world, the local film and TV industry had already undergone significant change. Quality had gone up noticeably.
Eventually, there would be more outstanding creators—ones who could match or even surpass the works Jing Yu had brought with him.
That might take ten years. Twenty. Or even longer.
But for now, in this era, Jing Yu still wanted to stand at the top.
Ideally, as the one and only.
Just like Osamu Tezuka in the history of Japanese anime, not necessarily the creator of the best or most beautiful works, but someone whose contributions have led an entire industry forward.
Jing Yu wanted to be remembered that way, too—for changing the future of Great Zhou's film and television landscape.
Another weekend arrived.
Broadcast day for Episode 3 of 'Fate/Zero'.
Meng Jiming was already buzzing with excitement by 7:00 p.m.
So far, 'Fate/Zero' hadn't delivered many explosive plot twists.
But thanks to its high production value and cast of beautiful people, the show had managed to keep viewers and ratings steady.
For Meng Jiming, though, this show had already become an obsession—even after just two weeks.
It all started when a friend introduced him to the first episode.
He watched the streaming site version. Honestly, nothing in that first episode grabbed him.
Dozens of characters appeared in just one episode. He couldn't remember anyone's name. The Holy Grail War sounded cool in theory, but the actual content felt… empty.
But everything changed when he saw Artoria's backstory.
He could say with confidence: he didn't care about any other characters in the show—not even the protagonist Kiritsugu.
Only Artoria.
Just one shot—Artoria standing atop a hill of corpses at sunset, leaning on her sword with a look of lost confusion.
That one frame, and the accompanying text... melted him.
Over the past week, he scoured the internet for every scrap of lore about the character. Interviews with Jing Yu, background notes from the official site—he missed nothing.
He was completely obsessed.
And it wasn't about the actress, Tang Rui. He didn't even care about her.
It was the character—Artoria herself—that he adored.
He didn't understand why.
But if Jing Yu had been there, he would've instantly known the answer:
"Bro, you've fallen for a waifu."
Sure, character design played a role.
But in anime, nearly every character looked great. That wasn't the deciding factor.
What really mattered was the core of the character.
Meng Jiming wasn't in love with Artoria's face—he was in love with her story.
Last week's cliffhanger at the end of Episode 2 had kept him on edge all week.
Even knowing she was fictional, he still worried about what the devilish writer Jing Yu might do to her.
After all, Jing Yu was notorious for torturing his female leads.
Taking a deep breath, Meng Jiming turned to face the TV.
The story picked up right where last week left off: Artoria was about to battle an unknown Lancer-class Servant.
In the distance, Iskandar the Conqueror watched.
Tension crackled in the air.
The Lancer was a pretty boy with a teardrop mole under his eye. Naturally alluring to women. And before the fight, he even said:
"If you're charmed by me, blame my birth—and the fact that you were born a woman."
Shameless.
That was the shared sentiment of the audience at that moment.
"Do you really think your looks will slow down my sword?"
Artoria's clear eyes and cool, decisive voice lit up viewers like Meng Jiming.
So righteous. So composed. So badass.
A smug flirt just ran into a noble, justice-driven girl.
And then—they clashed.
'Fate/Zero's first full-on battle scene had officially begun.