Cooperation Reached
Miyagawa Yasuo passed on the tiered reward plan.
"If the viewership rating is below 0.5%, this US dollar 500 is the entire fee; we will not charge a penny for subsequent rebroadcasts."
"If the viewership rating is between 0.5% and 1.5%, we need to take 15% of the GG revenue."
"If the viewership rating exceeds 2%, we want 30% of the revenue from GG, and we also want an additional cut from the sales of related merchandise."
The executives at CN huddled together and started clicking away on the calculator.
A few minutes later, they exchanged a knowing glance, a secret delight at seeing a fool deliver money to their door.
Cartoon Network's average viewership rating is currently barely maintaining around 0.8%, and that's only thanks to its classic old shows.
Two completely unfamiliar Japan robot anime series—even with the best-made toys—can they possibly achieve a 2% viewership in a market like the United States, where cultural barriers are so strong?
That's utterly absurd.
In their view, these Japan were clearly desperate to open up the United States market, which was why they signed such a treaty that was practically charitable.
"Since you insist, we have no objection." The content director suppressed a smile and quickly signed his name on the contract, afraid that the other party would change their mind. "However, let me make it clear from the beginning that the time slot we can arrange for you is 4:30 pm, which is when most children have just finished school and haven't gone home yet."
"No problem," Miyagawa Yasuo readily agreed.
Watching the United States happily put away the contract, as if they had just gotten a great deal on the street, Nakayama Takuya stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the busy streets of Atlanta, gently swirling the coffee cup in his hand.
These United States clearly don't understand that there's a business model called "free is the most expensive."
As soon as that little savior wielding the Dragon Sword appears, as soon as he shouts the line "The opportunity has come," the United States kids sitting in front of the TV will sooner or later be begging their parents to empty their wallets at the toy store.
United States children definitely rush home after school.
When the ratings pick up or the phone rings off the hook with requests to change broadcast times, that's when we'll turn things around.
At that point, this pitiful copyright fee will probably not even amount to a fraction of what Bandai sells in the United States and surrounding areas.
"Let's go, President Miyagawa." Nakayama Takuya put down his glass, in high spirits. "Let's try the Michelin Samsung restaurant Mr. Turner treated us to. This meal is the result of trading tens of millions of US dollar in future profits; we should eat our fill."
Looking at the thin contract in his hand, Miyagawa Yasuo was still a little apprehensive, but seeing Nakayama Takuya's resolute back, a strange sense of confidence welled up inside him.
He straightened his suit and quickly followed.
"Executive Director, do you think Turner will regret treating me to dinner if he knew how much money this movie will make?"
"Probably. But that's Bandai's problem to worry about, since it's Bandai that has to pay the GG fee. I'll trouble President Miyagawa to convey the details of this collaboration to President Yamashina; they certainly won't mind having another golden channel for selling toys in the United States."
Miyagawa Yasuo also in a great mood, and said with a smile, "Is the executive director afraid that President Yamashina would complain, so he only contacted me and not him?"
Nakayama Takuya shook his head. "Of course not, I'm just a middleman. The specifics are Sunrise's business, so of course Sunrise needs to inform the partner."
Back at the hotel, Nakayama Takuya didn't forget to make a phone call to the other side of the ocean.
It was just past the morning rush hour in Tokyo, Nakagawa Jun had probably just finished reviewing last night's ratings report, which was probably when he was at his most irritable.
When the call connected, Nakayama Takuya didn't exchange many pleasantries and briefly reiterated Ted Turner's request.
There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end of the receiver, with only the crackling sound of electricity remaining.
"You mean, CNN's Turner wants to buy the rights to our quiz show?" Nakagawa Jun's voice was a little unsteady; clearly, this news surprised him greatly.
It's a well-known fact that Japan television stations have always been the ones spending money to buy copyrights from Hollywood or Europe; why would United States media mogul turn around and try to buy Japan Variety formats?
This is unprecedented.
If this gets out, TV Tokyo will stand much taller among the five major commercial broadcasters, and they'll be able to bang on the table more often when negotiating GG fees with Dentsu.
"That's right, Father. I've already recommended the person to you. As for the specific price, tell the copyright department not to miss this opportunity. It's free money." Nakayama Takuya loosened his tie, his tone relaxed. "Anyway, Mr. Turner is definitely willing to pay now to expand his empire."
"This is the proposal you came up with for the station back then." Nakagawa Jun snapped out of his reverie, his tone brimming with barely concealed excitement, even his address to his son-in-law became a little more affectionate. "Logically speaking, you should get a share of this copyright fee. It's not just about the money, it's also about the station's reputation. Without you, how would we have gotten this program and the benefits from TV Tokyo?"
"We're family, no need for formalities," Nakayama Takuya smiled. "Besides, if the station is doing well, Eri will be very happy too."
Nakagawa Jun chuckled and cursed at the brat on the other end of the phone, clearly in an extremely good mood.
This son-in-law, who clearly delivered a tremendous political achievement, insisted on making it sound like it was just a casual gesture.
Having spent his entire life in television, Nakagawa Jun knew perfectly well that this wasn't luck; it was clearly a scheme orchestrated by Nakayama Takuya long ago.
Selling Japan Variety to United States was a brilliant move; it even brought him, the station director, prestige.
"Alright, go ahead and take care of your important business. When you get back to Tokyo, I'll save that bottle of whiskey that's been stored for twenty years for you; we'll have a drink together."
"Then I'll thank you in advance, Father."
After hanging up the phone, Nakayama Takuya threw himself onto the soft bed and let out a long sigh.
Having secured the animation project and connected with Turner, he also boosted his father-in-law's reputation, solidifying his own standing at TV Tokyo.
This trip to the United States can be considered a success, exceeding expectations.
While Miyagawa Yasuo was still haggling with CN executives in Atlanta over a few percentage points of GG revenue sharing, Nakayama Takuya had already boarded an early morning flight back to San Francisco.
Upon returning to Sega of America Headquarters in Redwood City, he caught up with Mark Cerny by a vending machine in the hallway.
The architect, hailed as a genius, was now leaning against the wall in a completely unseemly manner, clutching a can of chilling Dr Pepper in his hand, with dark circles under his eyes, looking as if he had just been abducted and released by aliens.
"Hey, isn't this our hero?" Nakayama Takuya walked over with a smile, put in a coin to buy a can of coffee, and said, "I thought you'd stay in Tokyo to enjoy the celebratory kaiseki meal."