Video Game Tycoon in Tokyo-Chapter 1018: An Animated Film

"Mr. Takayuki, this is Shinji Asami, the best animation director at our production bureau."

At TV Tokyo, Takayuki was meeting with an animation producer in one of the station's best reception rooms.

Not long ago, during the peak of the box office success of Metal Gear, Uncharted, and Ready Player One, Takayuki had reached out to TV Tokyo, asking them to help him find an experienced animation director. He specifically wanted someone with a strong background in sci-fi and dystopian themes.

In this world, TV Tokyo was considered a holy ground for many in the anime industry.

Even with their success in live-action dramas and variety shows, TV Tokyo never gave up on animation. They continued to reserve fixed timeslots every day to air quality anime series.

Other TV stations had looked down on anime in the past. They believed it didn't generate much profit, and that advertisers weren't interested in placing ads during animated shows.

But they didn't expect TV Tokyo to carve out its own path — investing heavily in building an animation industry from the ground up, much like how Gamestar Electronic Entertainment had built the game industry.

TV Tokyo created its own anime production factory, which went on to produce many popular IPs. Instead of placing ads in the shows, they licensed the IPs for toys, trading cards, and all kinds of merchandise.

These products might seem like they only appeal to kids, but kids were desperate to get their hands on them. And since kids don't have money, they'd pressure their parents — who rarely refused.

Even without ad revenue, the profits from anime-related merchandise far exceeded that of most hit live-action series.

By the time other stations realized the potential and wanted to catch up, it was too late. TV Tokyo had already built a complete industrial system. Others would have to start from scratch or poach talent at high cost — not easy at all.

So if Takayuki wanted a truly top-tier animation director, only TV Tokyo could help.

The current director of TV Tokyo personally welcomed Takayuki — after all, Takayuki also held shares in the station and was a key supporter.

The director fully supported his request and soon found the most suitable candidate:

Shinji Asami — a veteran of over 20 years in the anime industry, with countless successful works to his name and a highly respected reputation.

At first, Asami didn't want to come. But since the request came from the station director, he had to show up.

Takayuki placed a document on the table and pushed it toward Asami.

"Mr. Asami, it's a pleasure to meet you. Let's skip the small talk. This is the rough draft of a sci-fi story I've written. It still needs refinement, of course — but I'm confident that with your skill, that won't be a problem."

Asami glanced at the script and asked bluntly, "Can I ask first — are you serious about making this? Or is it just for show?"

The TV Tokyo director quickly jumped in. "Apologies, Mr. Takayuki. Mr. Asami is known for being direct — I hope you don't mind."

Takayuki smiled and waved it off. "No problem. What I can tell you is that I absolutely plan to take this project seriously. The budget may not match that of a major film, but I'm prepared to invest $50 million into the production."

Pfft!!! — Asami nearly choked on his drink.

$50 million for an anime? That would be the biggest single investment he'd ever worked with.

For a second, he thought Takayuki might've meant 50 million yen — but that would barely cover two or three episodes of a short series.

"$50 million. It's not a huge amount. But based on your past work and reputation, I believe you're more than capable of handling a project of this scale."

Not a huge amount... Asami felt he needed to change his attitude toward Takayuki.

This guy was a serious big spender.

Even someone as proud as Asami couldn't resist the pull of money.

Nobody dislikes money — that's just human nature.

So even if Takayuki wanted him to direct something completely meaningless, he'd still take the job.

(Of course, unless he was paid more, he wouldn't intentionally make it bad...)

Still, hearing that number made him worry a little. What if this game industry guy's script was garbage? And what if Takayuki got upset if he rejected it?

Oh well — for that much money, he'd make it work.

Asami straightened up and asked more seriously, "Mr. Takayuki, how many episodes are you planning, and what's the average length?"

He was a bit worried that Takayuki might want a long series with 80–100 episodes. That would still be profitable, but Asami preferred short, high-quality series — maybe 10 episodes per season.

Takayuki replied, "Including the opening and ending songs, each episode should be no more than 25 minutes. I'm planning about 10 episodes to tell the story. But if you come up with ideas to expand the world or add more depth, I'm open to that too."

Takayuki wasn't an animation expert. He could recreate cultural works from his original world, but sometimes a direct copy wouldn't work here. It was better to leave the adaptation to the pros and let them localize or improve upon the material.

If they could make something even better than the original — all the better.

This anime Takayuki wanted to make was a spin-off of Cyberpunk 2077 — the anime that had once revived interest in the game:

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners.