RBCT Chapter 237 Hideaki Anno's Cry for Help, IP Sale
Chapter 237 Hideaki Anno's Cry for Help, IP Sale
Chapter 237 Hideaki Anno's Cry for Help, IP Sale
In mid-December, the theatrical version of "Bayside Shakedown" officially wrapped up filming at the Wangan Police Station's set.
There was no extravagant wrap party. Kitahara Shin simply had Ota book a few tables of upscale food to reward the crew, then offered a toast and left early. For him, the end of filming was just the beginning; the real meat grinder was in publicity and theater scheduling.
In the following days, the entire Kitahara Office sped up.
With the funds approved by Kitahara Shin, Ota Masakazu and his team began a frenzied buying spree of movie tickets that theater managers had scheduled for "ghost hours." Meanwhile, Secretary Aida efficiently crammed the film's actors into variety shows and talk shows on various television stations, launching a comprehensive pre-release publicity campaign.
As a supporting character who gave a stunning performance in the theatrical version, Rie Miyazawa naturally received a lot of promotional appearances.
In the afternoon, outside the meeting room on the first floor of the firm.
Secretary Aida, carrying a stack of call sheets, walked over in high heels and happened to bump into Rie Miyazawa, who had just finished getting her hair and makeup done.
"Ms. Miyazawa." Aida stopped and handed over a schedule, speaking in a businesslike manner, "This is your schedule for two radio interviews tomorrow. The car will be waiting for you downstairs half an hour in advance."
Rie took the schedule, glanced at it, then looked up and smiled at Aida: "Thank you for your hard work, Secretary Aida. If Nobu-kun didn't have someone as meticulous as you to handle these trivial matters, he would definitely have a headache."
These words sounded like a compliment, but the extremely natural use of "Shin-kun" and the familiar tone as if he were speaking to someone as if they were his wife made Aida's fingers, which were adjusting his glasses, pause slightly.
However, as the chief secretary of Kitahara's office, Aida's emotional control was already impeccable. She looked at Rie, her eyes behind her glasses showing no emotion whatsoever, and her professional smile remained unchanged, not even in its curve.
"Ms. Miyazawa, you're too kind. It's my duty as your secretary to help the president," Aida said calmly and steadily. "Also, please try to keep tomorrow's interview focused on the film itself. The president has instructed that he doesn't want any personal gossip that obscures the main point to appear in the newspapers. Please get some rest."
After saying that, Aida nodded slightly, turned around, and left decisively in her high heels.
Rie stood there, watching Aida's retreating figure, and raised an eyebrow slightly. She wasn't angry, but she felt that the women around Kitahara Shin all exuded an aura of unwavering composure.
This chief secretary usually seemed like an emotionless work machine, but when it came to protecting that man's territory, she was surprisingly unyielding.
Meanwhile, in the top-floor CEO's office.
Kitahara Nobumasa was leaning back in his boss's chair, reviewing the pre-sale data for the entire venue that Ota had just sent over. Just then, the landline on his desk rang.
Secretary Aida's voice came through the intercom: "President, there's a private call for you. The caller claims to be from GAINAX."
-
The animation company's director is Hideaki Anno. Judging from his tone—he seems very anxious.
Hideaki Anno?
Kitahara Shin's hand, which was flipping through the reports, paused slightly.
A bespectacled, messy-haired, neurotic-looking nerdy guy quickly flashed into his mind. It was an animation director he had met briefly about half a year ago when he visited Miyazaki Hayao's studio, Yoshishita Riki, through Miyazaki's introduction.
At the time, Hideaki Anno was preparing a mecha anime, and Nobuyuki Kitahara casually mentioned, "If you need money, you can come to me." However, for the next six months or so, both were busy with their own things and basically lost contact.
"Bring him in." Kitahara Shin put down the report.
When the call connected, the voice on the other end was hoarse and tired, and in the background noise, you could even hear the scratching of paintbrushes on paper and the faint sounds of arguing.
"Mr. Kitahara—I'm so sorry to bother you so abruptly." Hideaki Anno's voice sounded like a zombie who had been pulling all-nighters for half a month straight. "You said to Director Miyazaki before that if my new project encountered difficulties, I could ask you for investment—I wonder if that statement still stands?"
At this point, Hideaki Anno had indeed been forced to the brink of disaster.
His beloved "Neon Genesis Evangelion" (EVA) is scheduled to premiere next year, but the production budget is currently facing severe shortages. The money from investors is simply not enough for his almost obsessive spending on production. It looks like he won't even be able to pay for the original animation for the last few episodes, and all his attempts to beg for sponsorships have been rejected.
Desperate, he finally pulled out the business card that Kitahara Shin had left behind. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure, since Kitahara Shin was now a big shot in the live-action film industry; how could he possibly spend real money to fill the bottomless pit of his animation business?
"count."
Kitahara Shin's reply was only two simple words, but it made Anno Hideaki on the other end of the phone gasp.
"But I never give money blindly," Kitahara Shin continued calmly. "I need to see the finished product you've produced so far, as well as your future business plans. Let's meet."
"This—Mr. Kitahara, could we postpone the meeting for a few days?" Hideaki Anno's tone suddenly became extremely anxious and troubled. "I really can't get away from here! The line drawings for the last few episodes are due soon, and I'm even sleeping under my desk right now. I simply can't find the time to go to your place—"
"It's okay."
Kitahara Shin interrupted his anxiety, his tone calm and unwavering: "You're at the studio, right? Give me the address, I'll come straight to you. It won't take you long, half an hour will be enough."
After hanging up the phone, Kitahara Shin picked up his suit jacket draped over the back of his chair, stood up, and prepared to leave.
Ota Masakazu and Aida's secretary exchanged a glance, both seeing confusion in each other's eyes.
"President, are you planning to enter the animation industry?" Ota couldn't help but ask. "Our current focus is entirely on live-action films and physical merchandise. Isn't it too risky to cross over and invest in those money-burning TV anime?"
Kitahara Shin put on his coat, straightened his collar, and smiled at Ota.
"Daita, don't limit your vision to the three-dimensional world."
Kitahara Shin walked to his desk and tapped the sales report for the M-51 trench coat on the surface with his finger: "You think the clothing merchandise we're making now is very profitable, right? But this is just the beginning. The profit ceiling for everyday practical items like clothing is clearly visible; it can only account for a maximum of 40% of the future merchandise market."
"But the world of anime is different."
Kitahara Shin's eyes deepened as he recalled the terrifying money-grabbing ability of EVA from his previous life: "Figures, models, art books, even mugs printed with characters—it was the ultimate blue ocean where practicality didn't matter at all; faith and fanaticism alone could make consumers willingly empty their wallets."
"If the M-51 trench coat is a money-printing machine, then this messy animation director I'm going to meet is an untapped gold mine. If we can win him over, the remaining 60% of our business empire's profits will be secured."
Ota and Aida were somewhat stunned. They found it hard to believe that a few little figures drawn on paper could make more money than selling clothes.
But Kitahara Shin did not offer any further explanation.
Half an hour later.
The black sedan smoothly drove into a secluded street in Musashino City.
Kitahara Shin pushed open the car door and looked up at the office building in front of him, its exterior walls mottled and bearing a worn-out "GAINAX" sign. The lights inside the building appeared dim in the cold winter night, and the air faintly carried the mixed smell of instant noodles and cheap coffee.
The motion-sensor lights in the hallway were somewhat dim.
As Kitahara Shin stepped out of the elevator, he heard a series of dragging footsteps. The door at the end of the corridor opened, and Anno Hideaki, with his messy, bird's-nest-like hair and a pair of worn-out slippers, came out to greet him.
It had only been less than two years since we last met at Yoshishita Riki's studio. But Hideaki Anno looked as if he had aged ten years in an instant. His eyes were sunken, his eye bags were frighteningly large, and his complexion was a grayish-white as if he had never seen sunlight in years. He exuded a withered feeling that he might collapse and die at any moment.
"Are you alright?" Kitahara Shin asked, looking at him as if he could die at any moment.
"It's alright, it's alright, I'm still alive." Hideaki Anno chuckled dryly, ran his fingers through his hair, and said, "Mr. Kitahara, please come in. It's a bit dirty and messy inside, but if you don't mind—"
"If you don't mind, come on, show me around." Kitahara Shin followed him into GAINAX's studio.
As soon as you push open the door, a mixture of instant noodles, cheap coffee, cigarettes, and the sweaty smell of someone who hasn't showered in a long time hits you.
The spacious open-plan room resembled a disaster scene. Scattered discarded artwork and empty cans littered the floor. More than half of the workstations were empty, and at the remaining few, the few remaining animators lay slumped over their lightboxes like corpses, their coats haphazardly covering them, their paintbrushes clutched tightly in their hands, fast asleep.
"You flatter me." Hideaki Anno looked at the miserable state and gave a wry smile.
He's always been an extremely perfectionist when it comes to quality. During the early production of *Neon Genesis Evangelion*, he burned through the entire budget in pursuit of the ultimate visual presentation. With no money left, he couldn't pay salaries, and the constant overwork caused many employees to quit. Now, only a few die-hard fans are still sticking with him, but without funds, they can't even begin writing the final, most crucial episodes.
Hideaki Anno led Shin Kitahara through the "minefield" to a relatively spacious private office. He scrambled a pile of storyboards on the sofa to make room for Kitahara to sit down.
"Mr. Kitahara, I'm not very good at socializing, and I'm not very good at talking." Hideaki Anno poured Kitahara a glass of water, his eyes gleaming with dark circles, and his voice was somewhat hesitant. "I've actually asked everyone I know who could lend me money, but in the animation industry—nobody's willing to throw money into this bottomless pit. I remember you and I had a few words together when I was with Director Miyazaki; you understand my work. That's why I—"
"Director Anno."
Kitahara Shin interrupted his stammering preamble, leaning forward slightly, and delivered a powerful reassurance: "You don't need to worry about the money anymore. The fact that I'm sitting here today means I'm willing to invest. Just name your price for how much funding this animation needs to finish."
Hideaki Anno froze, his hand holding the water glass hanging in mid-air.
He thought he was going to have to go through an extremely difficult struggle, and he was even prepared to be scolded by the investor. But the other party didn't even ask to see the script and directly asked him to name his price.
"Besides funding, there's something else I want to talk to you about today."
Kitahara Shin looked at him and got to the point: "I currently have several physical manufacturing companies under my control. I have high hopes for your work, so I've requested that you entrust me with all the brand IP licensing and merchandise sales rights for the future of 'Neon Genesis Evangelion'."
Hideaki Anno blinked, his mind momentarily blank.
"IP merchandise? But—this anime hasn't even officially started airing yet." Hideaki Anno scratched his head with some self-doubt. "Although I have high standards for myself, I have absolutely no idea whether this kind of mecha theme can be popular in this day and age. Does it really have that much commercial IP value?"
Whether it has value or not is my business; you don't need to worry about it.
"9
Kitahara Shin smiled faintly and directly revealed his trump card: "Let's talk about the revenue sharing for the licensing. I'll take the exclusive license, and all subsequent risks related to mold making, production, distribution, sales, and inventory will be borne by my company. We'll split the net profit generated from related products 40/60."
Kitahara Shin paused, then looked at Anno Hideaki: "You take forty percent. How about that?"
Upon hearing this, Hideaki Anno froze on the sofa, his face filled with shock.
In the Japanese animation industry of that era, the production committee system was extremely exploitative. The profits from the works that animation companies worked themselves to the bone were almost entirely devoured by toy manufacturers and distributors. Giving the original author and studio a licensing fee of five percent to a few percent was considered extremely generous.
Now, Kitahara Shin has taken over all the sales channels and inventory risks. All he has to do is nod and sign off on the IP, and he can just sit back and collect 40% of the profits?! This is simply a windfall, an unbelievable, heaven-sent deal!
"Mr. Kitahara—what is this—" Hideaki Anno's voice trembled slightly.
"Don't overthink it. This is my recognition of your talent," Kitahara Shin said calmly. "I value long-term cooperation more."
I hope GAINAX can live a more respectable life in the future, without having to beg people for money for a few key animators. Just focus on making good animations; leave the money-making to me.
Hideaki Anno's eyes suddenly welled up with tears.
In this cold and indifferent capital market, he was so moved that he could hardly speak. He met a boss who was not only willing to spend money to save his life, but also respected creators and was willing to share huge profits.
"I'll sign!" Hideaki Anno nodded heavily without any hesitation.
The two signed the contract very decisively.
After finishing his work, Hideaki Anno let out a long sigh of relief, as if he had come back to life. He stood up and said, "Mr. Kitahara, could I take up a little of your time? I'd like to show you the finished product we've produced."
"certainly."
Kitahara Shin followed him into the editing room.
The screen lit up, and the wild scene of Unit-01 running rampant in the sunset, Shinji Ikari's struggle in the cockpit, and the visually striking paneling and religious metaphors were vividly presented to Kitahara Shin.
Looking at these images, Kitahara Shin felt a surge of indescribable emotions.
In his past life, he could only sit in front of the television as an ordinary viewer, gazing up at this "masterpiece" that caused a social sensation. But now, he stands personally in this dilapidated editing room, using the hands of capital to steadily lift this cultural bombshell that is about to ignite the entire anime and manga era before the world.
He was not only a witness, but also a true creator.
After watching the clip, Kitahara Shin didn't disturb their work any further. Before leaving, he asked Aida's secretary to order dozens of lavish eel rice dishes from the most upscale restaurant nearby and have them delivered directly to the studio.
Watching the artists, who had been starving for days, rush towards the takeout like zombies unleashed from their cages after smelling the aroma, Kitahara Shin smiled, shook his head, and turned to walk out of the building.
The next morning, Kitahara's investment funds were deposited into GAINAX's account precisely on time.
Like rain after a long drought, receiving the money was like a shot in the arm for Hideaki Anno, and the entire studio instantly resumed operation.
All the owed wages were settled, the artist who had run away was brought back with a high salary, and a batch of new people were even recruited.
With the production lines completely restarted, the final episodes of "Neon Genesis Evangelion" entered an unprecedented period of frenzied production, supported by ample funding and resources.
With this anime-themed money-printing machine poised to launch, Kitahara Shinya has poured all his energy back into the upcoming theatrical release of "Bayside Shakedown." A fierce theatrical battle is about to begin.