Animation Studio

Shin and Lee Han were left alone in the meeting room.

Shin inquired, "How much does it cost to acquire a financially struggling animation company here in Japan?" He asked this question because the anime industry in this world was still in its initial stages, and animation studios were not in high demand compared to his previous life.

"I haven't checked yet, but I'll look into it," replied Lee Han, somewhat puzzled but willing to investigate.

Shin nodded and continued, "If you happen to find a promising animation studio on the brink of bankruptcy, consider purchasing it and making it a subsidiary of KiShin."

Lee Han's confusion grew. He had initially thought they needed to find ways to spend funds more efficiently and cost-effectively. Why was the CEO considering buying an animation studio and turning it into a KiShin subsidiary? Wouldn't that be too costly?

Shin noticed Lee Han's doubts and simply smiled, knowing that he was the only one with knowledge of the future of the anime industry.

His plan was to acquire an animation studio and produce an animated series based on "The Legend of Zelda." He intended to strike agreements with popular broadcast channels in Tokyo to promote KiShin's upcoming "The Legend of Zelda" game.

"Please educate the key employees at KiShin, Mr. Han," Shin said as he stood up and patted Lee Han's shoulder.

Lee Han nodded and replied, "I will. To be honest, they've become rather complacent as the company has grown."

After their conversation, Lee Han respectfully bowed to Shin before leaving to search for a suitable animation studio to acquire.

This task wasn't originally part of his job, but over time, he had assisted Shin with various tasks, both trivial and important, especially when Mira was attending university.

Lee Han then called his team to help him identify an animation studio that met Shin's criteria.

---

Meanwhile, in a certain animation studio in Tokyo's Nakano ward called "MadRanch," there were approximately 40 hardworking employees. The studio director and CEO, Ishigi Nurakami, who appeared to be around 30 years old, was the son of the studio's founder.

MadRanch was facing financial difficulties, and Ishigi was racking his brain to find a way for the studio to survive. Funding from Tokyo Movie, which had been supporting MadRanch, was being discontinued due to financial constraints. As a result, MadRanch found itself struggling with limited funds.

Due to this, many interested TV giants, such as Nippon TV, Suzuki Entertainment, and Tora Entertainment, expressed their interest in acquiring a stake in Madranch. Madranch was a privately held company, meaning it was not publicly listed, yet these entertainment giants were eager to secure a piece of the company or acquire it outright.

However, Ishigi Nurakami couldn't make a hasty decision and agree to the demands of these corporate giants. They sought complete control over Madranch, both inside and out. They even imposed restrictions on the hardworking employees who put in overtime for additional pay, limiting overtime hours. If an employee exceeded 50 hours of overtime, the company would cease paying them for overtime work, and this clause was not disclosed to the employees. Even with this knowledge, employees were compelled to continue overtime work or risk losing their jobs, as the culture of overtime was deeply ingrained in the company.

Ishigi refused to accept such terms. He couldn't bear to wrong his employees, who were already struggling to earn extra income through overtime. He felt it was unjust, and he believed that not agreeing to these conditions was the only course of action he could take.

Sitting in his office with him was the creative director of Madranch.

"Why don't we just agree? We're running out of funds, and it won't be long before we go bankrupt," the creative director, Hikaru, suggested.

"No. Even if I have to use my own money to fund the company, I will never agree to the heartless demands of these big corporations!" Ishigi stated firmly.

"We may not have a choice..." Hikaru sighed in helplessness. "I'm willing to contribute my own funds as well. How much money do you have in the bank?"

Ishigi felt a bit awkward but replied, "I have about 15 million yen in the bank..."

Hikaru looked at him in disbelief. "Then our company is in dire straits. Even if we pool our money together, it probably won't be enough to cover the employees' salaries for several months."

Ishigi appeared troubled, but he said, "Please, let's wait a while. Maybe there's a company out there with a shred of humanity left that will be willing to fund us."

Hikaru shook his head in response. "A company with a bit of humanity left? Such a company may exist, but it's rare in Japan." He had worked for various companies before and found that many of them mistreated their employees through overwork and inadequate compensation.

Ishigi couldn't help but chuckle helplessly. "Have a little faith in your country, won't you? You can't be so certain..."

Hikaru snorted and remarked, "Do you truly believe that a big company would retain any humanity? Even small companies can be cruel. In fact, small companies often tend to be more abusive and desperate than large ones."

Ishigi simply shook his head with a sigh.

---

Meanwhile, Lee Han sifted through stacks of papers containing information about animation companies. He eventually stumbled upon an animation company that met Shin's criteria.

This company was currently struggling with limited funds and was actively seeking potential partners to provide funding for an animation project. While the company was originally searching for a customer to assist with an animation-related project, Lee Han saw a different opportunity.

He believed this company was not only suitable for Shin's requirements but also a strong candidate for acquisition. Additionally, the animation company had a reputable history, having previously partnered with The Tokyo Movie, an influential entity in Japan.

He continued to examine the various animation companies but ultimately concluded that the one he had come across earlier was the most suitable choice.

Without wasting any time, he sprang into action and dialed the studio director's number for that particular animation company.

The phone rang for a moment before it was finally answered.