Entertainment to the death, make a tokusatsu film that will crush the entire internet.

On the first day after the conclusion of "Armor Hero: Legend of Light and Shadow", the sun shone into the office building of the Land of Light as usual.

Su Xiaoran clocked in at 8:30 in the morning and, as usual, made a detour to the director's office area of ​​the special effects department first.

At this time normally, at least half of the six special effects directors would have already arrived.

But today, the lights in the special effects department director's office area are off.

The workstations were neat and tidy, the whiteboards were spotless, and even the trash cans were empty.

Su Xiaoran stood in the middle of the corridor, paused for three seconds, and then took out her phone to check WeChat for business purposes.

There was no notification of any personnel changes.

There was no announcement regarding the adjustment of working hours.

There were no team-building activities planned.

So here's the question: Six people, all at the same time, disappeared.

Her phone vibrated the next second.

The OA system's approval notifications included six leave requests, all submitted between 12:30 AM and 1:00 AM last night.

The applicants' names are listed in order: Wu Dashan, Guo Fan, Tian Xiaopeng, Jiaozi, Sakamoto Koichi, and Abe Yuichi.

Su Xiaoran opened the six leave slips one by one, took a deep breath after reading them, and walked towards Yang Qian's office as fast as she could.

"Director Yang, something's happened in the special effects department."

Six leave slips were laid out side by side on the desk.

In the "Reason for Leave" section, all sorts of things can be written.

Wu Dashan wrote: If I don't rest soon, I'll turn into a superhuman beast.

Guo Fan wrote: The brain's CPU needs forced cooling when overloaded.

Tian Xiaopeng used one word: tired.

The dumplings quoted Lao Tzu: "Knowing when to stop prevents danger, and knowing contentment prevents disgrace."

Sakamoto wrote in machine-translated Chinese that he needs to relearn how to smile.

Yuichi Abe's most practical answer is +999.

Yang Qian held her teacup and read through all six leave requests from beginning to end, then chuckled.

"Miscalculation."

Su Xiaoran stood across from the desk, hesitant to speak.

She saw that Director Yang had already clicked "approved" in the OA system.

Without asking a single question or attaching any conditions.

In the Land of Light, you never need a reason to ask for leave.

This is a rule set by Yang Qian, and he never breaks it himself.

The notifications that the leave requests of the six directors had been approved were sent to their respective mobile phones almost simultaneously.

At this moment, the six people are sitting in a dim sum restaurant three blocks away from the company, with shrimp dumplings, siu mai, rice noodle rolls and chicken feet laid out in front of them.

Wu Dashan's phone rang first. He glanced down at it, half a shrimp dumpling stuffed in his mouth, and mumbled, "Director Yang approved it."

Guo Fan put down his chopsticks, glanced at his phone, and then picked up his teacup: "The boss is generous."

"I had prepared an explanation."

Dumpling put down her phone, her expression complicated. "I wrote hundreds of words in my head, but it was useless."

"Do you regret having prepared your speech in advance?"

Tian Xiaopeng leaned back in his chair, his eyes half-closed.

"no."

Dumpling thought for a moment, "It's because this company feels too comfortable; it's a bit unreal."

Upon hearing this, Hiroshi Sakamoto put down the char siu bao he was holding and replied in his much-improved Chinese.

"In Japan, directors who ask for leave are considered irresponsible."

He paused, then said, "But that's what being responsible means. Being responsible to yourself, and being responsible to your work."

Yuichi Abe, who was eating his porridge nearby, simply nodded without saying anything when he heard this.

His reason for requesting leave was "+999", a meme that originated from a word game they played in their group chat late last night.

Wu Dashan was the first: I'm exhausted.

Guo Fan: Me +1.

Tian Xiaopeng: Me too.

Dumplings: I second that.

Sakamoto: +1.

Because Abe types slowly, by the time he finished typing the Chinese text, there were already dozens of messages in the group chat.

So he simply wrote +999, and then casually filled in the reason for his leave.

The mental state of this group can be roughly gleaned from this group chat record.

The laughter from the morning tea table didn't reach Yang Qian's office, but Yang Qian could roughly imagine the state of those six people at that moment.

He knows his director too well.

He knows this group of people who have worked with him from scratch to where they are now, and he knows each of their work habits, creative rhythms, and mental limits like the back of his hand.

These people are not machines, but they often treat themselves like machines.

The fact that six people took leave at the same time seems like an interesting story on the surface, but if you think about it more deeply, it's a signal.

The directors of the Land of Light definitely have a lot of work to do.

This problem did not exist before.

When the Land of Light was just starting out, it only had one or two projects on hand. Although manpower was tight, the buffer time between projects was enough for everyone to catch their breath.

But how many projects is the Land of Light currently pursuing simultaneously?

Regarding tokusatsu (special effects) series, the Armor series has just concluded, and the planning for the next tokusatsu series is already on the agenda.

The same applies to both 2D and 3D animation teams.

And the production of every work is inseparable from the director.

Yang Qian can write the script and storyboards, taking on the most difficult creative part for them.

However, the specific filming location, actor scheduling, and post-production quality control are all crucial.

Those jobs that require keeping your eyes glued to a monitor are irreplaceable by any script.

A director is not a cog in an assembly line.

We can't just randomly hire someone from the market and put them in the position.

The Land of Light has recruited people this year, but the number of directors who can truly stand on their own can be counted on one hand.

It's not that the Land of Light has high requirements; it's just that this is the nature of the industry.

A good director needs talent, experience, and time to work with the team; none of these three things can be achieved quickly.

Yang Qian's thoughts began to unfold in her mind.

Hiring?

We are always hiring.

However, there are only a handful of professional special effects directors, and the circle of animation directors is even smaller.

Expanding the recruitment scope is possible, but the gap between the number of candidates selected and the project's needs is difficult to bridge in the short term.

So, there's another option: find a partner.

Penguin Video and Lizi Entertainment.

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of Tanuki Entertainment, in the office of the animation division.

Zhang Ming was standing under the air conditioner vent with a freshly brewed cup of coffee in his hand, his back to the cold air blowing directly on him, and he squinted his eyes in comfort.

Then he sneezed.

"Ugh! Why is the air conditioner so cold?"

He rubbed his nose and turned to look at the temperature display on the wall.

Twenty-six degrees Celsius, perfectly normal.

But the chill on his back wouldn't dissipate, as if some unknown thing was watching him from somewhere far away.

"Achoo!" He couldn't help but cover his nose and sneeze again.

On Tencent Video, even the wisteria flower sneezed.

She was sitting at the conference table having a meeting with the content department when suddenly her nose itched and a sneeze interrupted the operations director who was giving a report.

There was a two-second silence in the meeting room, and several people looked at her with concern at the same time.

"Ms. Zi, you have a cold?"

The assistant sitting next to her asked in a low voice.

The wisteria flower looked confused.

"I didn't catch a cold yesterday."

She frowned, and for some reason, a face flashed through her mind.

Wisteria put down the meeting materials in her hand, and her tone became serious.

"That concludes today's meeting."

As she stood up, she couldn't help but shiver again, instinctively pulling her coat tighter around herself, as if something big was about to happen.