As the saying goes, "The ducks are the first to know when spring comes to the river." It only took a few vague words from Jing Yu's assistant to spread the news across the company — Jing Yu had locked himself in his office again.
Fans and outsiders might not fully understand, but his colleagues did. People inside Bluestar Film & Culture Company knew exactly what this meant.
Writer's block? Emotional burnout? Creative obstacles?
Those things didn't apply to Jing Yu.
Whether or not he produced new work had nothing to do with inspiration or pressure — it was simply a matter of whether he wanted to create something. In past cases, as soon as he shut his office door and cut himself off from outside disturbance, that was the unmistakable signal: Jing Yu was back in creation mode.
Naturally, chatter exploded throughout the company.
"No idea what the new project is this time. A game? A movie? A drama?"
"Whatever it is, the hype's about to go off the charts again."
"Of course. His projects aren't even in the same league as the scripts the rest of us write. Especially the drama team — we got used to dramas pulling 9% or 10% viewership. The ones we've made this past half-year barely crack 6%. No motivation at all."
"It's about the results. His projects make billions in profit. Even if he throws just a tiny portion to the team as a bonus, it's a big payday. We're talking a hundred or so core staff getting huge payouts. Not like now..."
"It's not just the fans who want him to work harder — we do too!"
"No lie, ever since the boss started chilling, we've been coasting too. Just can't get fired up."
"Easy to go from poor to rich. Hard to go back once you've tasted wealth. After years of working under him, going back to new screenwriters' projects just feels... hollow."
"Before I joined Bluestar, I was in a crew that celebrated 4% viewership. Now I see 5–6% and get mad. Like — how did we drop this far?"
"But I get why he releases less now. He's already the top in Great Zhou across movies, TV, and games. Dropping something average isn't just underwhelming — it could damage his reputation."
"True. I still believe he'll one day surpass even his peak, but let's be honest — I can't even imagine a film doing better than 'Spirited Away' at the box office, or a drama that outshines 'Attack on Titan'."
"We'll know soon enough. With his speed, give it two weeks max, and we'll be looking at a full script and production team."
"Time to start cozying up to my department head. If I can get into the production team for this new drama, it'll be a sweet ride for the whole year."
"You rat! Take me with you!"
Just the news of Jing Yu locking himself in the office had the entire company fired up. People who normally slacked off during work were suddenly hyper-focused. Employees who used to clock out the second their hours were up now stayed late, hoping their burst of dedication would get noticed and land them on the production team.
This vibe wasn't new. Ever since the company's founding, it was common knowledge: working on a Jing Yu project meant your income could double or triple.
As chairman, Jing Yu naturally didn't care about these minor dramas. He was deep in his office, writing non-stop. Two weeks later—
Two new scripts emerged and were passed to the TV production department.
These days, he rarely gets involved in the actual filming. At most, he'd help with music — for example, 'Death Note' already had iconic anime tracks, so some of those would be reused directly.
'Hanzawa Naoki', however, didn't have particularly outstanding music in its original version, so he let the team freely create BGM that matched Great Zhou's style.
Of course, Jing Yu didn't just copy the original works directly. While he typically preserved the storylines faithfully, 'Death Note' was the one exception.
In his view, the story took a dive after L's death. If the protagonist Light were the main character, then L was the soul of the series. After L died, the tone of the entire story shifted. And don't even get him started on M and N — one blond, one white-haired — who somehow managed to take down Light. It felt like the plot gave Light a stupidity debuff in the final arc.
So Jing Yu rewrote the ending.
In his version of the script, he used the ending from the 'Death Note' movie adaptation, where L fakes his death to lure Light into a trap.
Although L successfully exposes Light, he also ends up dying due to his name having already been written in the notebook — fulfilling the notebook's rules.
It was a mutual destruction ending, a battle between two geniuses where no one truly won — and for Jing Yu, that bittersweet finish carried far more weight. Both L and Light died in ways that left the audience deep in thought.
Meanwhile, in the TV department…
The moment the scripts arrived, several department heads locked themselves in the office and pored over them all night.
The next morning, despite looking sleep-deprived, they couldn't hide the excitement on their faces.
"The boss is just… unmatched. These scripts are insane!"
One of them looked out at the clear sky and sighed in awe.
"Truly next level. Just reading the text for 'Hanzawa Naoki' and 'Death Note' made my heart race. The tension is palpable, even on paper."
"Too bad 'Hanzawa Naoki' isn't the type for heavy visual effects, but man, the pacing is incredible. The oppressive work environment, the protagonist constantly breaking through — it's so satisfying. And 'Death Note' — with shinigami, the notebook, and its political undertones — it's perfect for some light VFX work. Bigger audience potential, too."
"And the logic! The internal consistency! It's fresh and tight — the boss's brain is a monster."
"You know that saying? The writer's IQ sets the ceiling for the characters' IQ. Most local crime dramas have smart heroes and dumb villains. But reading 'Death Note', I felt like I was the dumb one. Took me forever to understand the layers behind Light and L's moves. Honestly, the boss would make a killer detective."
"Stop joking. Is there anything he sucks at? Okay — maybe video games. But that's it."
"We might be heading into another golden age. These two dramas could set off a storm like when 'Attack on Titan' aired."
"Rally the team. We've waited half a year for this. Let's not mess it up."
The drama department held an emergency meeting that very morning.
Over the next few days, Bluestar Media & Film Company moved quickly.
Money? No problem. Talent? Plenty. Tech? Ready to go. A good script meant immediate greenlight.
Special effects studios were already sending representatives to discuss VFX for the shinigami in 'Death Note'.
At the same time, casting for 'Hanzawa Naoki' and 'Death Note' went public.
Jing Yu specifically chose the lead from 'Legal High' (his adaptation of 'Legal High') to play Hanzawa, since the actor's vibe was similar to Masato Sakai from his past life, who also starred in both originals.
'Death Note' was a different story.
The biggest hurdle was casting Light and L — young, good-looking actors who could convincingly portray genius-level manipulation and layered psychology. Bluestar's current signed artists didn't meet the criteria, so the company launched open auditions.
The news spread quickly through the industry — and then to Jing Yu's fans.
"Wait, what? The Old Troll is making a comeback??"
"Uh, yeah. You missed the casting call?"
"My cousin works at Bluestar. He said it's two dramas this time, and both are insane. He even claimed the scripts are on par with 'Attack on Titan'."
"No way. On that level?"
"That's what he said. Only downside is they're not action shows, so merch and side revenue might be low. But plot-wise? He swears they're better."
"Bro, I'm crying. The Old Theft isn't retired — he's pushing past his limits!"
"Honestly, mad respect. He could've just retired and lived off his legacy. But no, he's still pushing himself."
"If these two dramas really match 'Attack on Titan' in quality, that's it. He's a legend — end of debate."
"But real talk — don't get too hyped. Both shows probably won't air until next year. For now, just wait for 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' in August and 'Pokémon' in September."
The news of new works from Jing Yu lit up the Great Zhou drama market like fireworks. Fan forums were buzzing like it was New Year's.
Over a thousand actors — from film students to child stars to industry veterans — flooded Bluestar's HQ to audition for Light and L. Reporters camped outside the building all day, trying to catch a glimpse of anything Jing Yu-related.
This was the level of influence Jing Yu had now — every move sent shockwaves through the industry.
He did check in occasionally on the drama production, but his main focus remained on the two upcoming games.
By mid-July, two in-house films hit theaters.
The results? Not great.
Box office numbers were underwhelming. After a week, both films looked likely to lose money — something Jing Yu had never personally experienced before.
Not that he cared much about the financial loss itself. It just felt strange — after so many years dominating the industry, it was his first taste of failure.
But hey — that's business. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.
By late July, Jing Yu had already left the country, traveling overseas with his marketing team to hold press conferences and promo events for the games.
When it came to 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' and 'Pokémon', Jing Yu took foreign markets more seriously than the domestic ones.
Marketing videos and previews for 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' were everywhere in global gaming forums.
By August, the gaming market was fully lit up.
Even players who weren't interested in card games had heard — through ads, word-of-mouth, and social media — that a company from Great Zhou was launching something big:
'Yu-Gi-Oh!'
Thanks to the previous success of 'Rurouni Kenshin' and the lack of major competition this season, retailers and distributors had few concerns about pushing it hard. They were eager to ride the wave — if the game sold well, they'd profit too.
So by August 7th, just a week before launch, a veteran gamer opened their PC and launched a few forums.
Everywhere they looked?
Pop-ups. Ads. Previews. All for 'Yu-Gi-Oh!'.
The iconic image of Yugi Mutou, surrounded by stylish monsters, filled their screen.
Whether or not 'Yu-Gi-Oh!' would take the global market by storm was still unknown — but one thing was certain:
It was getting the royal treatment. A full-scale, AAA launch — and the whole world was watching.