Masami Kurumada, Long Time No See

This is not just about forcing Toei back down; it's about directly demanding that Toei relinquish control over the creative direction of its intellectual property in collaborative projects.

Yoshimura felt a chill run down his spine.

He knew perfectly well that Nakayama Takuya was capable of doing what he said.

Sega now has that capability.

If he doesn't agree to this condition today, forget about Saint Seiya, Toei won't get a single penny of the profits from any of Bandai's popular tokusatsu and anime merchandise in the Bandai.

If TBS found out, they'd love to kick Sega while it's down.

"Understood!" Yoshimura answered without hesitation, his voice firm and resolute.

He stood up again and bowed deeply.

"President Nakayama, please rest assured. In the future, for all projects in cooperation with Sega, Toei will absolutely follow Sega Galaxy's opinion."

"In terms of creation, I will absolutely not create any unnecessary complications!" Yoshimura declared loudly, fearing that Nakayama Takuya might change his mind.

Nakayama Takuya looked at Yoshimura, who had just finished expressing his loyalty, and nodded in satisfaction.

He leaned back in his chair, picked up his slightly cold coffee, and took a sip.

"Alright. Go and do it."

Nakayama Takuya put down his cup and explained the specifics.

"Go and schedule a time with Mr. Kurumada, avoiding work hours."

Yoshimura placed the notepad flat on his lap, removed the cap from his pen, and looked up at the young company president opposite him.

"Don't schedule it in the company conference room, and don't go to Kurumada- sensei's studio either." Nakayama Takuya tapped his finger twice on the table.

"Not to the studio?" Yoshimura paused, his pen hovering over the paper. "Then where to go? Find a business suite in a high-end hotel?"

"What's the difference between talking in a hotel and talking in a conference room?" Nakayama Takuya leaned back, adjusting to a more comfortable position. "Last time, you guys went to their studio with a bunch of proposals, all dressed up, clearly trying to force them to produce something. When creators hit a creative block, they hate this kind of pressure from capital. They instinctively resist it."

Yoshimura recalled the scene from his visit to the studio a few days ago.

A group of producers surrounded the already small workbench, making the atmosphere quite oppressive.

"So what do you mean?" Yoshimura asked humbly, his attitude extremely humble.

"Play to his interests." Nakayama Takuya picked up his Mark, the bottom clinking softly against the wooden table. "Besides drawing, what's Kurumada- sensei's biggest hobby? Has Toei done any research on that?"

Yoshimura's mind worked incredibly fast. He was in charge of liaising with Masami Kurumada's team, so he definitely had this basic information.

"Fishing!" Yoshimura blurted out, "Mr. Kurumada is very fond of sea fishing. I heard he has more than a dozen high-end fishing rods that cost tens of thousands of Japanese yen each."

Nakayama Takuya nodded.

"Let's find a suitable place near Tokyo," Nakayama Takuya gave specific requirements. "Not the crowded public fishing spots. Find a private, quiet members-only fishing club, preferably one with a Japanese-style inn and a private dock."

Yoshimura quickly scribbled down the words "private fishing spot," "membership system," and "private dock" on his notepad.

"The time is set for a weekend afternoon. Don't bring those Toei producers, and I won't be bringing any assistants from Sega Galaxy either," Nakayama Takuya set the tone. "Just you, me, and Mr. Kurumada. The three of us."

Yoshimura's subordinate paused. The three of them were discussing a large-scale IP project worth hundreds of millions of Japanese yen?

"Too many people will make things too noisy and prevent a deep conversation." Nakayama Takuya saw right through Yoshimura's concerns. "Dress casually when you go, no suits or ties. You'll be in charge of preparing the best fishing gear. If Mr. Kurumada wants to bring his own equipment, you'll be responsible for preparing all kinds of bait, groundbait, and other accessories."

"Understood. I'll have someone procure the complete set of top-of-the-line sea fishing gear tomorrow." Yoshimura readily agreed, afraid of missing a single detail.

"Once we get there, don't mention anything about project proposals, outlines, or animation remakes. Don't bring up any of those words." Nakayama Takuya began to plan the day's schedule. "Spend a quiet afternoon fishing with him. Talk about the weighting of the fishing tackle, the direction of the current, and the movement of the float. Let him completely unload the pressure that's been building up at his workbench."

Yoshimura frantically took notes while secretly marveling at the achievement.

In the past Toei's approach to project negotiations was to throw money at the problem, push for progress, and force them to create artwork.

Now let's see how Sega's president orchestrated this.

This isn't about doing business; it's about providing core creators with a full range of psychological support.

No wonder all the comic artists who collaborated with Sega were so devoted to the Sega.

"When it gets dark, pack up your lines." Nakayama Takuya drew a circle on the table with his finger. "Have the chef from the restaurant come over and process the fish we caught this afternoon. Kill the live fish on the spot and make several plates of top-quality sashimi; the rest can be salt-grilled."

The image flashed through Yoshimura's mind.

"Let's light a charcoal stove and warm a few pots of fine sake," Nakayama Takuya, looking at Yoshimura. "The three of us will sit around the stove, eating fish and drinking. After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere will be completely relaxed. At that point, I'll naturally steer the conversation towards the artwork."

Yoshimura swallowed hard and closed the notepad.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

In that extremely relaxed, slightly tipsy state, when talking about the creative concepts they had discussed together back then, Masami Kurumada's defenses would quickly crumble.

Once inspiration strikes, the subsequent planning and implementation will proceed smoothly.

"I've noted it all down!" Yoshimura tucked his pen back into his suit's breast pocket. "This afternoon I'll contact several high-end deep-sea fishing clubs near Tokyo Bay and make sure the environment and service are perfectly arranged. Once the time is set, I'll report it to your secretary's office immediately!"

"Go ahead and do it," Nakayama Takuya waved his hand.

Yoshimura stood up, grabbed his briefcase from beside him, Nakayama Takuya once again.

This time, his movements were fluid and natural, without any of the previous restraint.

"President Nakayama, thank you for your guidance today. Toei will fully cooperate with Sega's strategy!" Yoshimura turned and strode towards the office door.

On the Lake Okutama Shore, a secluded members-only leisure club.

A black Toyota Century was parked in front of the main building of the clubhouse.

Yoshimura was already waiting on the steps. As soon as the car came to a stop, he quickly went to open the car door.

"President Nakayama, everything is arranged. Professor Kurumada is at the private dock behind here." Yoshimura lowered his voice, "I followed your instructions and didn't dare to get any closer."

"You stay here and we'll arrange dinner after dark."

Nakayama Takuya got out of the car.

He wasn't wearing a suit today; instead, he wore a loose-fitting gray-blue windbreaker and dark work pants, with a baseball cap casually placed on his head.

This outfit made him completely abandon his usual airs and demeanor in the mall.

After walking along a path paved with gravel and around a windbreak forest, the sound of water lapping against the wooden boardwalk reached my ears.

On a private dock.

Masami Kurumada, wearing an old khaki multi-pocket fishing vest, was fiddling with a dark red carbon fiber surf rod.

Several expensive, high-end fishing boxes were scattered on the ground nearby.

Two young assistants were frantically tidying up the tangled mess of nylon threads.

Hearing footsteps, Masami Kurumada looked up.

Upon recognizing the person, he immediately handed the fishing rod to his assistant, wiped his hands on his vest, and straightened up.

"President Nakayama."

Masami Kurumada instinctively reached for a bow, "I'm so sorry to have troubled you to travel such a long way in your busy schedule—"

--"

Nakayama Takuya took two steps forward, reached out and supported his elbow, stopping him from bowing.

"Mr. Kurumada, the president of Sega isn't here today."

Nakayama Takuya pulled over a folding chair and sat down.

"There are no Shueisha editors rushing for manuscripts here, no Toei producers pressuring for project proposals, and no Sega Galaxy project managers," Nakayama Takuya pointed to the shimmering lake. "Today, there are only two anglers looking for a quiet place to relax."

He leaned back in his chair, adjusting to a comfortable position.

"Let's take advantage of the nice weather today, enjoy the breeze and sunshine. Let's not dwell on any of that work mess today."

Masami Kurumada stood there, stunned.

His tense shoulders slowly relaxed.

These past few days, Yoshimura from Toei has been going to his studio every day.

They keep talking about big projects, complete overhauls, and ample funding.

The way they practically wanted to pin him down in front of the easel and have him draw the storyboard kept him up for several nights in a row.

Today, Yoshimura called to say that Sega's president, Nakayama, wanted to see him. He thought this was a final attempt by the capitalists to force him out of the company.

He even went over his reasons for refusing several times in his head.

As a result, the moment this young Sega leader showed up, he welded the door shut.

Let's not talk about work.

"Then I'll do as you say." Masami Kurumada's features softened considerably. He turned around, pulled a properly tuned fishing rod from his tackle box, and handed it to Nakayama Takuya.

The two chose two fishing spots that were neither too far apart nor too close.

The early spring sun shone on me, and the water shimmered with white light.

The assistant deftly baited the fish with bloodworms and retreated to the rest shed a dozen meters away.

Only the two of them remained on the wooden boardwalk.

The axle made a soft, rustling sound as it turned.

Nakayama Takuya gripped the handle with his right hand and suddenly exerted force with his wrist.

The fishing line drew a taut arc in the air, and the sinker fell into the water more than ten meters away with a "thud," splashing up a small circle of water.

"That casting technique is quite skillful." Masami Kurumada was somewhat surprised and turned to look at Nakayama Takuya.

"Back in college, I often sneaked out late at night to go with my classmates to the breakwater in Tokyo Bay to cast a few lines." Nakayama Takuya set up his fishing rod on the stand and reached out to pull up the collar of his windbreaker to block the wind.

Their gazes fell on the bobbing floats on the water's surface.

For the first half hour, neither of them spoke.

The only sounds were the gentle breeze rustling across the water, and occasionally a few water birds would skim by in the distance.

This complete emptiness and quiet is exactly the rhythm that Masami Kurumada needs most.

"Yoshimura really found a great place." Masami Kurumada stroked his stubble. "Normally, I'm too lazy to even open the curtains in my studio. This steam has cleared up a lot of the fog in my head."

"He complained to me a few days ago that the waves have been too big lately, and it's easy to get cold at the beach." Nakayama Takuya stared at the buoy without turning his head. "So we chose Lake Okutama. For peace and quiet."

Upon hearing Yoshimura's name, Masami Kurumada's eyelids twitched.

He thought this was just a prelude, and that the other party would soon get to the point.

Nakayama Takuya turned his head away.

"I see that the set of poles you brought is extremely lightly weighted. The handle sections are even custom-made."

Masami Kurumada was taken aback for a moment, then became interested.

"You can tell that?" He reached out and touched the rod. "It's all carbon fiber, hand-polished. I've been spending long hours drawing original manuscripts these past few years, and my wrists have developed problems; they can't handle heavy loads. Using this lightweight rod makes it easier on my wrists when playing a fish."

"It's a good rod," Nakayama Takuya said, pointing to the translucent fishing line on Masami Kurumada's spool, "But the line weight is a bit too high. With such a thick line, wary fish won't even bite."

"You wouldn't know this, would you?" Masami Kurumada perked up and immediately retorted, "There are big fish lurking beneath Lake Okutama. Someone once caught a grass carp over a meter long here. If your line is too thin, a big fish can snap it in one bite—that's truly frustrating."

The two chatted casually about the action of fishing rods and the matching of fishing lines.

We talked about everything from the nylon material of fishing lines to the grain formulas for baiting, and then about the most outrageous fish we'd ever lost.

Masami Kurumada's prepared defensive arguments were all rendered useless.

He discovered that Nakayama Takuya didn't play by the rules at all.

Not only did they not discuss an anime remake, they didn't even touch upon the manga.

The conversation gradually veered off course.

The two chatted about which Tokyo in Tokyo had recently changed chefs, and which off-road vehicle chassis was better suited for mountain roads.

Nakayama Takuya casually complained about the endless financial meetings at Sega Headquarters and grumbled about the cumbersome approval processes.

Masami Kurumada empathized and joined in, complaining about the insane deadlines and inhumane methods used by Shueisha's editorial department during the serialization period.

A tacit understanding, stemming from shared experience as office workers, quietly spread between the two.

The barriers of identity have been completely broken down.

Before I knew it, two hours had passed.

The buoy on the water suddenly sank sharply.

The movements were extremely large.

"He's been blacklisted!" Masami Kurumada shouted, jumping up from his folding chair.

Nakayama Takuya faster, grabbing the fishing rod and flicking his wrist upwards.

Stickleback!

The tip of the fishing rod instantly bent into an exaggerated crescent shape.

A considerable pulling force came from underwater, and the spool made a rapid "squeaking" friction sound.

"Hold on! Don't pull it! Let it run free!" Masami Kurumada shouted instructions from the side.

Nakayama Takuya loosened a section of the line and slowly pulled it back in the direction the fish was swimming.

A man and a fish engage in a tug-of-war on the water's surface.

After several rounds, the underwater activity gradually subsided.

A large crucian carp with shimmering scales was pulled out of the water and struggled desperately on the surface.

The assistant, who had been waiting in the shade, quickly ran over with a landing net, scooped up the fish, and brought them onto the wooden boardwalk.

"Well done! We've opened for business!" Masami Kurumada looked at the lively fish with a broad, satisfied smile on his face.

Although it wasn't a massive object, it finally broke the air force's deadlock.

Not long after, Masami Kurumada's float also moved.

His movements were extremely skillful; he lifted the rod, set the hook, and reeled in the line all in one smooth motion.

It was also a crucian carp of roughly the same size.

The two threw the fish into the plastic bucket, looked at each other, and burst into laughter.

The joy of anglers can sometimes be as simple and direct as this.

The sun gradually began to set in the west.

A golden halo appeared on the surface of the lake.

The spring breeze was blowing, and the temperature had dropped, carrying a hint of chill.

Nakayama Takuya stood up, stretched his slightly sore shoulders, and looked down at the main building of the clubhouse not far away.

The restaurant on the first floor was lit up with warm yellow lights.

The drinking party arranged by Yoshimura should begin soon.