Fence-Sitter Gu Xue

"Cough, cough."

Whatever Gu Xue was thinking, the animation meeting was not going to stop because of it.

After everyone in the Ore-sama production, with Misawa Hiroshi being the last, had taken their seats, he coughed to draw back the attention of those whose minds had been captivated by the two beauties. "Everyone, please quickly look over the storyboards on the table, then choose the cuts you want to work on and are good at..."

"Please wait a moment." Before he could finish, Mihara Chisa interrupted him.

She lowered her arms from where they had been crossed over her chest, braced both hands on the table, and stared at Misawa Hiroshi. "Before that, please explain the reason for changing the storyboards, as well as how cuts 301 through 317 are supposed to be completed. I've just joined your company and only recently started working with this production team. I really don't understand why you would do something so reckless at a time when the budget and schedule are so tight."

She really was a forceful girl...

Seeing this, Gu Xue could already imagine what would happen next.

The conflict between "content quality" and "budget and schedule" was one of the most common contradictions in the animation industry.

Sure enough.

"It's to present better content to the audience." Misawa Hiroshi, who had seemed timid just moments ago, stiffly threw out that line.

In truth, the fact that Misawa Hiroshi had changed the storyboards at such a critical juncture made it clear that his career as an episode director was probably still quite short. He had yet to learn how to "give up" certain aspects of a production's quality, and he still lacked a sense of balance. Whenever he saw even the slightest hope, he wanted to make the animation as perfect as possible. As for schedules and budgets, he probably considered them minor problems that could be solved through sheer perseverance.

Episode directors with this flaw were basically all former animators. This kind of director lacked experience overseeing productions on-site, and they often encountered countless difficulties when they first took on directing work. Only after running into a wall a few times would they change a little—or rather, learn how to strike the right balance.

When this kind of animator-turned-director first started working, they were far less capable than directors who had risen from production assistant roles. Those former production assistants understood from the outset how to make daily adjustments, how important it was to deliver work on time, and how to allocate personnel reasonably. In short, they were very capable.

Of course, they were not without flaws either. Most directors who came from production assistant backgrounds did not understand animation, or were simply terrible at drawing. If they handed the storyboards to another episode director, they would have very little say over the visuals.

Both kinds of episode directors had their own strengths and weaknesses.

If Gu Xue had to choose, rationally, she would of course prefer the latter type—the ones who would not act recklessly. Emotionally, though, she was more inclined to work with the former.

After all, she worked in key animation.

But if it was someone like Mihara Chisa...

Unless Gu Xue wanted to experience the feeling of having a kitchen knife pressed to her neck—cold neck, even colder heart—she would not choose her, either rationally or emotionally.

While Gu Xue's thoughts wandered far away, Mihara Chisa had already fired back.

"I respect your ideas, and I understand your desire to present better content. But please compromise a little. With your revised storyboards, especially the final storyboard designs for Part B... forgive me for being blunt, but no one here can complete them. Or rather, no one can complete them on schedule. If we need to outsource, all the major production teams are wrapping up their own work right now, so we simply can't find anyone to draw them. Even if we do find someone, to achieve the result you want, the Restraint Fee will definitely be unavoidable. Setting aside the budget for later processes, we can no longer afford dozens of Restraint Fees. We can't even afford half of them."

That was your job. Go find me the money and the people.

Misawa Hiroshi, irritated by her relentless pressure, wanted to roar those words out. But when they reached his lips, he forcibly swallowed them back down.

They were not enemies. Everyone just wanted to complete their own duties. Shouting would not do any good, and Mihara Chisa was clearly trying to establish authority in her new position. Considering her status, Misawa Hiroshi accepted it.

"There are people here who can draw them. You don't need to worry about the key animation for cuts 301 through 317." He might have accepted it, but verbally, Misawa Hiroshi refused to yield and stiffly shot back.

The implication was probably that she just needed to do her own job, while he could find someone himself to handle the revised storyboards.

"Who?" Mihara Chisa remained aggressive.

The two of them looked like they were really about to start arguing.

The bald director... Abe Shinichi stepped in to smooth things over.

"Chisa-san, there's no need to get so worked up. Please proceed according to the current storyboards for now. If problems arise along the way, or if we fail to finish on time, I'll negotiate with Producer Uchida and the producers on the committee's side. Whether we need a recap episode or a broadcast delay, I'll take full responsibility."

Abe Shinichi was not from Snakehead Company; he had been brought in from outside. Still, he had been a director for years and had seen this sort of thing many times. The moment he opened his mouth, he took responsibility upon himself. While the chances of him actually having to do so were not high, saying it now had a very noticeable effect.

After hearing that, Mihara Chisa fell silent for a moment and, sure enough, said nothing more.

Abe Shinichi signaled for Misawa Hiroshi to continue.

"Let's continue." Misawa Hiroshi took a deep breath, looked ahead, and pressed one hand against the storyboards in front of him. "Please quickly look through them, then choose the cuts you want to do and are good at, except for cuts 301 through 317. I know there isn't much time left for everyone to animate, but please work hard with me."

The meeting room filled with the rustling sound of pages turning.

The assignment of shots was not mandatory. Compared to assigning cuts in sequence to the key animators under him, giving them some room to choose—letting them draw the parts they wanted to draw and were good at—produced better results.

Of course, that did not mean episode directors would not interfere.

For example, if a key animator who specialized in everyday acting wanted to choose battle cuts, that would be difficult. The reverse was true as well.

Good steel had to be used on the blade.

Gu Xue, who had been lost in thought the entire time, finally came back to herself. By the time most people had finished flipping through the storyboards, she opened the storyboards for the Final Episode.

As she read, Gu Xue recalled the storyboards for Episode Six from her memories and compared them.

Compared to Episode Six, the storyboards for this Final Episode were indeed much better. Not only were there more shots, but there were also quite a few shots with considerable animation difficulty. No wonder Mihara Chisa had pushed back against Misawa Hiroshi.

Wasn't this like putting a noose around his own neck and looking for a tree to hang from...?

If it went well, everyone would be happy. But if it went badly, it would be courting death.

While Gu Xue was flipping through the storyboards, people had already begun finishing them one after another, identifying the ranges they wanted to take, and approaching the episode director to confirm the schedule and requirements.

There was no mad scramble, nor were there key animators deliberately choosing easy cuts.

Key animation work was paid by the piece.

Cuts with different levels of difficulty naturally paid different amounts. Although the difference was not huge, everyone had to make a living. Anyone with even a little ability wanted to earn more money.

Besides, who among those who worked in animation production and stuck with it did not want to improve?

Basically no one.

Coasting through life would really get you killed.

At least, that was how it was in the animation industry.

Gu Xue was still looking through the storyboards. As time passed, her relaxed expression vanished, and her pretty brows gradually furrowed. By the end, her whole face was nearly scrunched up.

She vaguely realized something.

These two baldies were plotting against me!

After finishing the final page of the storyboards.

Gu Xue set down the storyboard book and looked toward Misawa Hiroshi, about to seize the initiative.

"Gu Xue."

Unfortunately, Misawa Hiroshi had been waiting for this moment. The instant he caught sight of Gu Xue looking over from the corner of his eye, he immediately turned toward her. "I hope you'll take on the key animation work for cuts 301 through 317..."

"Hah!?"

Misawa Hiroshi's words confirmed her suspicions, and Gu Xue immediately lost her composure. She shot to her feet, her voice rising sharply.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Gu Xue.

Mihara Chisa also cast puzzled looks at Gu Xue and Misawa Hiroshi respectively before finally turning to the director.

Seeing Gu Xue's expression, which practically screamed, "Are you fucking kidding me?", Misawa Hiroshi looked somewhat awkward. Still, he forced himself to say, "I know this is asking too much..."

"Don't say another word." Gu Xue's face turned cold. "I refuse."

After saying that, she looked at Mihara Chisa again.

"Miss Chisa, I'm on your side. Please stop these two bald—no, these two, the director and the episode director, from acting recklessly. This isn't merely asking too much. This is making an impossible task even more impossible, putting someone in an impossible position!"