*Saint Seiya* Series Plans

"Authorize the rights to suitable fan comic artists, or those emerging artists with solid fundamental skills. Let them use your designs to draw prequels and spin-offs."

Nakayama Takuya outlined a grand blueprint.

"For example, the previous Holy War. How did Shion and Dohko survive more than two hundred years ago? What were the personalities and temperaments of the twelve Gold Saint of that generation? The origin of the rosary in Shaka's hand that can seal the resurrection ability of the Specters? Even the reason why Deathmask and Aphrodite are not as strong as the other Gold Saint in your drawing of this generation of Gold Saint can all serve as drawing ideas for the previous Holy War."

"Take War God Ares, for example, which you just mentioned. Since the main storyline can't accommodate that, you could start a serialized series about a particular Holy War, specifically telling the story of fighting Ares."

Masami Kurumada was stunned.

This operation was beyond the comprehension of a traditional cartoonist like him.

"You set the outline, solidify the framework. Let the young people work themselves to the bone on the details," Nakayama Takuya pointed out the core idea. "This is called building an IP universe. Saint Seiya shouldn't just be an idea in your head; it should become a commercial world that can expand infinitely."

The steam from the men's bath swirled under the bright yellow wall lamps.

Masami Kurumada stood frozen in place, his white porcelain wine glass hovering in mid-air.

Hire someone else to paint your artwork?

This is undoubtedly a provocation against the professional bottom line he has upheld for over a decade.

"Brother Nakayama, this is taking too big a step." Masami Kurumada placed his wine glass on the floating wooden basin, the water rippling. "Every Saint Cloth and every character in Saint Seiya was meticulously crafted by me, stroke by stroke. If I let outsiders take over, the art style will change, the story will lose its flavor, and the readers' spittle will drown me."

Nakayama Takuya leaned against the warm pool wall, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the terrazzo.

"Back when Marvel changed its lead writer, United States readers complained too. And what happened? Now, the Avengers, the X-Men series—they're printing money all over the world. Dozens of writers and artists revolve around one IP, creating a hundred times the commercial value of working alone." Nakayama Takuya leaned forward, the sound of rushing water filling the air. "Get your head straight. I'm not asking you to abandon the main storyline; I'm asking you to build this framework into a self-sustaining commercial empire."

Masami Kurumada touched the stubble on his chin, his eyebrows furrowing into a tight knot.

"You need to understand one thing." Nakayama Takuya picked up the sake bottle and poured himself a glass of sake. "Saint Seiya can no longer be just another serialized work; it must now become your core business."

"Core base?"

"A solid foundation that continuously generates real money." Nakayama Takuya downed his sake in one gulp and turned the cup upside down in the wooden basin. "With this foundation, this money-printing machine can keep supplying you with funds. From now on, if Masami Kurumada wants to draw any niche themes or do any stream-of-consciousness style, he won't have to worry about the editors' opinions or whether the sales of his collected volumes will be halved. Because you have enough capital to back it up."

Masami Kurumada's eyes lit up, and he straightened his back, which had been leaning against the pool wall.

Creating without commercial constraints is the dream of every professional cartoonist.

In recent years, his painting "Shō: The Silent Knight" has been canceled, which is ultimately due to low popularity and lack of investment.

"Let's be more realistic." Nakayama Takuya wiped the water droplets from his face. "This huge, profitable base is enough to shut up Toei's partners. They want the numbers on the financial statements, and you want control of the IP and creative freedom. Everyone gets what they want. Give them a satisfactory explanation, and they won't be harassing your studio like 'dead menacing ghosts' every day."

Masami Kurumada sighed heavily and rubbed his neck.

"Those partners, they helped push Saint to the top back then, and now things have gotten so tense, I can't save face for them—" He hesitated.

"You're too loyal," Nakayama Takuya interrupted him, getting straight to the point.

Masami Kurumada suddenly raised his head.

"In your manga artist circle, loyalty is a virtue. You protect your assistants, are considerate of your partners, and even grit your teeth and cooperate with their cheesy original storylines to save face for Toei." Nakayama Takuya tapped his finger on the water, making a splashing sound. "But capital doesn't recognize loyalty. Their specialty is manipulating people. They exploit your sense of responsibility, use sentimentality and the big picture to blackmail you, and finally squeeze you dry."

Masami Kurumada clenched his fists, his knuckles turning slightly white.

All the hidden losses he had suffered over the years, and the messes he had to take on, were thoroughly exposed by this young man who was almost ten years younger than him.

"Since we're reviving this IP, Sega Galaxy will take over all of Saint Seiya's overseas business." Nakayama Takuya abruptly shifted the conversation, moving directly to the next step. "Video rental websites in the United States, Europe, and South America..."

Television broadcasting rights, and related merchandise. This business involves a massive cash flow and is subject to the laws of multiple countries.

"My studio has dedicated staff to handle finances and legal matters. They're all old friends who lived with me in rented apartments back in the day, pulling all-nighters to draw storyboards. You can trust them." Masami Kurumada subconsciously defended his team.

Nakayama Takuya sneered and shook his head.

"Japan's outdated, workshop-style accounting methods are no match for tax authorities in Europe and America. To avoid double taxation and to cope with antitrust and cross-border financial audits in North America, your studio must undergo a complete compliance upgrade."

"Compliance?"

"I will have Sega's Legal Department and Finance Department send specialists to assist you in establishing a multinational tax structure." Nakayama Takuya give Masami Kurumada a chance to argue. "But Sega's people alone aren't enough. To ensure absolutely clean accounts that can withstand scrutiny in the international market, you must regularly hire international accounting firms to conduct comprehensive audits of your operations."

Masami Kurumada's brows furrowed completely.

For someone who works in creative fields, hearing these business terms is enough to give them a headache.

"Is it really necessary to make such a fuss? I just pay my taxes on time. Besides, for something like auditing, we can just leave it to Sega."

"No." Nakayama Takuya said firmly.

He was all too aware of the hidden dangers of Masami Kurumada Kurumada's makeshift studio.

In his early years, Kurumada longed for a gangster life. He was extremely arrogant, extremely generous and completely unguarded to the people around him.

In his past life, his studio had produced quite a few troubles.

His cronies took kickbacks, resold discarded manuscripts for profit, and created a host of other messy accounts.

If these blemishes aren't removed in advance, they will definitely become time bombs that detonate the entire IP in the future.

The most troublesome thing is that if Sega's people are allowed to audit the accounts and find problems, Masami Kurumada will definitely step in to protect people out of brotherly affection, and then Sega will be caught in the middle, not pleasing anyone.

Nakayama Takuya issued a strong directive.

"Not only should we investigate, but we absolutely cannot use Japan accounting firms. Those slick people in a society built on personal connections can be bribed with a single drink. The first year, use PricewaterhouseCoopers in the United States; the second year, switch to KPMG in the United Kingdom; the third year, use Hong Kong or..."

Australia's top-tier audit team. Changes occur regularly, and audits must be conducted unexpectedly.

Masami Kurumada's eyes widened, and water splashed onto her chin.

"Frequently changing audit teams? And all of them are foreign? That's Honda! My people are just calculating royalties, buying printing paper, and contacting printing plants. Is it really necessary to make things so difficult for them? If they feel I don't trust them, how can I lead this team?"

"Sega will pay. You just need to nod." Nakayama Takuya leaned against the pond, his tone calm but leaving no room for negotiation.

While seemingly paving the way for overseas tax compliance, it actually puts a dead end on Kurumada's studio.

Those tough auditors from abroad don't follow the seniority system of Japan workplaces.

Any internal spies involved in unclear accounts, receiving salaries without working, or misappropriating funds will be exposed under this cross-checking international audit system.

In this way, Masami Kurumada saved face, avoided the embarrassment of personally investigating his old subordinates, and completely eliminated internal hidden dangers.

If a mole is indeed found in the future, it will be considered a "cross-border compliance requirement," and the old comrade won't be blamed on Masami Kurumada.

Masami Kurumada looked at the young company president opposite him.

Despite the steam, Nakayama Takuya appeared relaxed, but his previous remarks were tightly packed together, each point leading to the next.

First, he broke through the creative bottleneck with a high-quality OVA; then, he used an IP matrix to make grand promises; next, he exposed his personality weaknesses; and finally, under the guise of overseas expansion, he reached into the studio's management structure and forcibly put on a bulletproof vest.

This is a complete solution covering everything from creation and business to back-end management.

"You little rascal—" Masami Kurumada rubbed his face, then suddenly laughed, the laughter echoing in the men's bath. "Not only are you good at setting up schemes, but you've even managed to scheme against your own people."

"Business is business. Let's plug the worst loopholes first, so that we won't fall out when it comes to splitting the profits later." Nakayama Takuya grabbed the towel around his neck, stood up, and water trickled down his muscular physique.

"Get soaked. Go change your clothes. Yoshimura from Toei is still outside, hungry, waiting for us to deliver the verdict."

Masami Kurumada also stood up and stepped out of the hot spring.

The huge weight that had been pressing on my mind, called "creative block" and "pressure from investors," has now been shattered into pieces.

Instead, a long-lost ambition and drive have emerged.

After leaving the men's bath, the moisture in the corridor was quickly sucked away by the ventilation system.

Nakayama Takuya and Masami Kurumada, dressed in dark blue cotton yukatas, turned and entered the club's treatment room.

Two massage beds were laid out on the tatami mats.

The two elderly blind technicians were skilled, pressing their thumbs on acupoints on the backs with a forceful intensity.

Masami Kurumada lay on the mat, letting out a muffled groan that was both sour and pleasurable.

He turned his head to the side, resting his chin on the towel.

"These past few days have been worthwhile," Masami Kurumada said in a deep, resonant voice. "I used to spend all my time hunched over my workbench drawing storyboards, but these two massages have really loosened up all the stiff muscles in my back."

Nakayama Takuya lay face down on the bed next to him, his eyes closed.

"After you're done, go downstairs for dinner. I've already asked the front desk to call Yoshimura."

Masami Kurumada gave a short laugh.

"You left him hanging at the club all day; he's probably so anxious he's about to bang his head against the wall in his room."

"Let's put up with him." Nakayama Takuya rolled over and lay flat on his back. "He won't waste time talking nonsense when we get down to business."

at the same time.

Inside the guest rooms on the third floor of the clubhouse.

Yoshimura sat cross-legged at the low table, his tie already torn and tossed aside.

The ashtray in front of me was overflowing with cigarette butts, the last one still emitting wisps of smoke.

He stared intently at the wall clock.

5:30.

He didn't dare go anywhere all day.

They didn't even dare to move around much in the lobby downstairs, for fear of angering Sega's young president.

Toei headquarters made two phone calls in the afternoon to inquire about the progress.

He evaded the issue entirely by negotiating.

If he can't get a definite answer soon, he really won't be able to explain himself to the board of directors when he returns to Tokyo.

The sound of wooden clogs clicking on the wooden floor echoed down the corridor, followed by a soft announcement from outside the door.

"Mr. Yoshimura, President Nakayama invites you to dine in the Matsu-class private room."

Yoshimura suddenly stood up.

He had been sitting cross-legged for too long, and his left leg went numb. He staggered a bit before regaining his balance.

He grabbed his suit jacket from the chair next to him, stuffed the neatly organized Toei project proposal into his briefcase, carefully combed his hair, opened the door, and walked out.

The "Song" private room is located at the very end of the clubhouse and is extremely spacious.

The long, narrow rosewood table was already filled with exquisite lacquerware.

When Yoshimura entered, Nakayama Takuya and Masami Kurumada had already finished washing up and changed into clean casual clothes, and were sitting on either side of him.

"President Nakayama, Professor Kurumada." Yoshimura stopped at the door and bowed.

"Sit down." Nakayama Takuya gestured to the empty seat opposite him.

Yoshimura walked to his seat, knelt down properly, placed his hands flat on his knees, and put his briefcase at his feet.

The waiters filed in.

Several cold dishes were removed and replaced with freshly grilled Wagyu beef and steaming matsutake seafood soup.

Finally, two jugs of warmed sake were brought out and placed on a small charcoal stove on the corner of the table.

Nakayama Takuya raised his right hand and waved towards the door.

The waiter immediately bowed and withdrew.

The sliding door slid along its track with a soft click and closed perfectly.

The private room fell silent instantly, with only the soft crackling of the charcoal stove remaining.

The hairs on Yoshimura's back immediately stood on end.

The dishes on the table emitted an enticing aroma, but no one touched their chopsticks.

Nakayama Takuya picked up the hot towel in front of him, wiped his hands, and casually tossed it into the bamboo tray next to him.

"Managing Director Yoshimura, you've been starving all day, don't just stand there watching."

Yoshimura swallowed hard, unable to eat anything.

He reached for the briefcase at his feet. "President Nakayama, regarding the project with Toei— "

"Take that proposal back and tear it up," Nakayama Takuya interrupted him directly.